The answer from the government finally came, but is it the answer I was looking for?

Spider Log: 08.2025.4

I haven’t been in the office for a week, but fate was calling me back to the room.

A few days ago, I believed the letter from the government had finally arrived in the form of a spray plane. My heart soared with the thought the government sent the plane to spread poisonous fog onto our property to rid us of the spiders. But no, the spray plane flew over the neighbor’s field. Those pilots fly low over the trees, loud enough to frighten the cats. They are crazy. But they wave at me. Crazy attracts crazy I guess.

I called the post office, because I’ve been waiting for the letter from the government, and if it arrived, only one person would know about it.

“I don’t go through the mail that carefully. If you got a letter from the US government, it would come with a certified notice.”

Thelma the postmaster at our small-town post office. And she was a liar.

I’d known Thelma for years, and when we were on speaking terms, she would tell me all the gossip. Like who had an overdue bill stamp on their power bill, who just got their Columbia House subscription using their dog’s name or who finally won Publisher’s Clearing House.

“Thelma,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’m expecting an important letter. I have no idea if it came certified or not, but…” I gritted my teeth.

The information I was about to give her would be all over the local coffee shop (aka The College of Knowledge), and then it would get back to my husband. And my in-laws, and the entire congregation at church. I might as well attach a scarlet “S” on my shirt.

“Thelma, we have been friends for a long time.”

“Hmph,” she muttered. “Not for years, but go on.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. A headache is coming on. “I would appreciate if you didn’t say anything to anyone about this… it’s top-secret stuff.”

“Top secret?” her voice raised.

I smiled. “Yes, the sort of stuff the government has been keeping secret for years. You know, those conspiracies we always talk about.” I stifled a giggle, but I could practically hear her leaning into the phone, the cord creaking on the other end.

“Yes, I remember. Did you… oh tell me that you finally uncovered one?”

“I did. But Thelma, I can’t tell you about it until I get that letter. The proof is in the letter,” I whisper.

She gasped. “No kidding! Is it bigger than the time they let the mountain lions loose on Owen’s farm because he wouldn’t sell his cows to the governor?”

“Yes, yes it is. Now can you tell me if a letter from the government came?”

The silence on the other end was longer than winter in Nebraska. “Listen, I’m only telling you this if you promised to share with me what the secret is.”

“Ok, I…”

“And maybeeeee,” she trilled, “I will forgive you, and we can be friends again.”

I considered. Not a bad deal. “Deal! Now did the letter come?”

She tapped her nails against the phone receiver. “Yep, that letter came last week. It wasn’t certified though. Just had a return address of the US government in Washington DC. I thought maybe you finally sold the farm or someone claimed…”

“Thelma, listen…are you listening?”

“Yes, my beloved friend.”

I stifle a groan. “The secret is what we’ve suspected all along. When the fog is just barely a trickle in the fields, it’s the mucus hanging in the air from the coyotes sneezing.”

“I knew it! I knew the coyotes were involved somehow. Always howling all night, stealing my chickens. Foxes always get blamed, but it was always the coyotes. What else do you know?”

“Well the government is injecting pollen in the air to save the bees. It’s making the coyotes sneeze, and their slimy mix of electrolytes and mucins and leukocytes is hanging in our air.” Thank you Webster’s dictionary.

“Their what? I can’t even pronounce that luke-o-tightie-whitey.”

“Yep, just keep it to yourself, Thelma. The bee people would protest with their flower power signs outside the post office if they knew what we know. You don’t need that kind of drama.”

“Oh yeah, right. Sure. I’ll keep it to myself,” she stammered.

“Good girl, Thelma!” I slammed the phone down on the receiver. I had no intention of telling the real story of why I wrote the government. This would keep her mind churning for a while until the

I stood before the front door as if I was about to meet the Queen of England. The door was large and loomed tall above me. Intimidating me. What if I opened the door, a thousand little spiders would come rushing out in a swarm.

I shivered.

I’m not ashamed to say that when I threw in the mail and slammed the door, the action rattled the house a bit. Maybe it rattled any other spiders hiding in the dark crevices of the basement or the closet or the cupboard to vacate the property.

I doubt it but one could hope.

I decided to open the door a crack and scream really loud because that scares everything away. Except raccoons. They are not scared of me.

Having emptied my lungs, I step gingerly into the room, staying away from the corners or dark places or the closet. My precious books have no webs, so that’s a good thing. I consider trying to grab one, but I have going to finish “Fairy Tale” by Stephen King, even though I’m really bored 100 pages in. Great writing, but I keep waiting for the old man to die.

I flick the envelopes on the floor with my toe and finally uncover the official-looking letter. Nothing black or scary or eight-legged on it. I slip out the door, scream one more time in case they were waiting for me and see the certified letter is indeed from the government.

Office of Public Inquiries and Environmental Affairs

999 Constitution Avenue, NW Washington, DC 20500

Ref: 887-B/45-C

Date: August 17, 2025

---

Regarding Your Recent Correspondence on Public and Environmental Matters

This letter serves as a formal response to your recent inquiries regarding two separate matters: the global eradication of the arachnid species known as “spiders” and your proposal for the implementation of “clear mailboxes.”

With respect to your initial request for the eradication of all spiders, the appropriate committees within this department have conducted a thorough review of your proposal. Following a comprehensive analysis of the available scientific data, our researchers have unanimously concluded that the systematic elimination of this species would have a detrimental effect on the global ecosystem. Spiders, as a keystone species, play a critical role in maintaining the delicate balance of our planet’s flora and fauna. Therefore, any efforts to remove them on a large scale would be counter to public policy and would result in an ecological catastrophe of unprecedented proportions. We regret to inform you that we are unable to fulfill this request. In the interest of your personal comfort, you might consider relocating to a colder climate where arachnid populations are less prevalent.

Furthermore, your secondary proposal regarding “clear mailboxes” has been received and logged in our system. We will be forwarding this idea to the appropriate subcommittee for review and further investigation. Please understand that all such proposals are subject to a rigorous and lengthy evaluation process to determine their feasibility and public benefit. We will contact you should we require further information or if any developments arise concerning this matter.

Please refrain from further contact with this office. We will initiate all subsequent communications as deemed necessary.

Sincerely,

A. P. A. Bureaucrat

Interdepartmental Correspondence Division

Well there it was. They are doing nothing. Not surprising. It’s the government. I know. I know. They have wars, climate change, poverty, budgets, blah, blah, blah. Whatever. Got it. It’s on me.

But it can’t be on me. I am terrified of spiders, and even burning down the mailbox would not stop them from coming back. We’d put up a new mailbox, and they’ll still come back. It’s weeks before frost, and they are preparing to come into my house.

I can feel their army amassing in the fields outside the house. Once the harvest is brought in, they’ll find somewhere new to live. And where else but a great, big warm building with fleshy humans to feast on all winter.

I must rise above. Be a hero for the world. I hear the call, but to be honest, my hearing isn’t the best, and was that a call to kill spiders or a call for dinner?

Wait… even heroes in novels get help. Where would Luke be without Han? Where would Spiderman be without his friends? Where would King Arthur be without his knights (well except for Lancelot. That didn’t end so well.)

There were people who helped me when I was a child. I would run down the steps yelling, “Bug, Bug, Bug. Bug, Bug.” They saved me many times. I’m not sure I would be the woman I am today without them.

They would not fail me.

They would honor me in my hour of need.

They would know exactly how to eradicate the spiders from my life!

Who you gonna call?

Not the Ghostbusters.

The bugbusters! My childhood babysitters.

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