Colt

My phone buzzes from under my pillow.

I know it's nowhere near 8 AM... the sun isn't even up.

Bzzzt... bzzzt...

That's not an alarm, that's ringing. What inconsiderate idiot is calling me at this hour?! It has to be spam...

I ignore it.

Bzzzt... bzzzt…

"Oh for God's sake."

I rip my phone from its place, squinting at the screen.

You have to be joking...

With a click, I bring the phone to my ear.

"Colton Michael Grace-Seavers, what the fuck are you doing on my line at 2:17 anti-meridian on a Thursday. You have exactly five seconds, and the clock starts now." I growl into the receiver.

"Ryland! Oh thank god!"

"Are you dying or bleeding out?”

"N-no?"

"Is your apartment on fire?"

"No! Ryland- hold-"

"Then you're out of good excuses. Call Court. Goodbye."

"WAIT WAIT! Would you give me a sec?!"

I say nothing.

"H-hello?!"

"Speak."

"Okay! I need help."

"Ohhhh my goooooddd..."

"Please! Please... I need help."

"With what." I hiss.

"…I feel like you’re gonna be pissed.”

“Oh I promise you, I will be, so just get on with it.”

“…”

“…”

“Rylie there’s a spider on my wall…”

“Are you…”

“Ryland!”

“…Joking right now…”

“I’m serious dude, this thing is the size of a Ford Escape- oh- OH- it’s moving-!”

I can hear him shuffling around the room, pacing the other side of the line. Oh he’s scared scared.

“It could be the size of the Discovery Shuttle, and I still would not govern a shit at 2 in the morning.”

“Ryland!”

“What do you want me to do about it?!”

“COME GET IT!”

“GET OUT OF MY BED, PUT PANTS ON, AND DRIVE TWENTY MINUTES ACROSS SAN FRAN TO REMOVE A SPIDER?”

“PLEASE!”

“WHY ME, COLT?! JUST PUT A CUP OVER IT AND BE DONE!”

“AAAH- IT’S RUNNING.”

“You are a fully grown man.”

“WITH SPIDERPHOBIA.”

“Arachnophobia, you dim bulb- CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT THEN! CALL THE GHOSTBUSTERS FOR ALL I CARE. GOODNIGHT.”

"NONO NO WAIT! Please... I- I'l make it up to you- I’ll buy you lunch this weekend- wherever you want on me. Please""

…

-

I swing open the door of Colt’s apartment, keys in one hand, a clear cup and sheet of card stock in the other.

Colt is already waiting for me, pacing circles around the cluttered living room, halting at the sound of the door.

I stride up to him, in the most ridiculous outfit ever assembled, consisting of NASA pajama pants, a shirt spelling out ‘bacon’ with element sumbols, a blue bathrobe, and slippers.

“Thank god- finally!” Colt sighs.

“Steak dinner, and three fruity drinks.” I hiss, scowling at him through askew glasses.

“Three? Jesus…”

“Just for that, two appetizers, too.”

“Fine! Fine, whatever…” Colt sighs, giving me a once over. “Yeesh- your glasses are crooked, and your outfit is insane.”

“Well I’m not exactly at the Ritz Carlton, now am I? Didn’t realize there was a dress code for the Shitz Colton.” I fire back. A little meaner than my typical brotherly greeting, but I blame it on the exhaustion.

Clearly, Colt doesn’t mind, snickering at my comment.

“Anyway- where is this titanic, behemoth spider?” I ask, settling my knuckles on my hips and scanning the room.

Colt gestures over his shoulder, down the short corridor, to the closed door at the end.

“It’s in my room- last I saw it, above my computer.”

“Pause.”

“What?”

“Last you saw it?”

“…yes?”

“You abandoned the intruder uto roam around as it pleases?!”

“I wasn’t gonna stand there with it!”

“You idiot! You’re supposed to keep eyes on the spider at all times! Who KNOWS where it’s at now!”

“It’s probably still there! A-at least nearby/ish!” Colt shrugs.

“You screamed ‘it’s running!’ On the phone FORTY. MINUTES AGO.”

“YEAH BUT JUST FOR A SECOND!”

“Show me where it was.”

Without another word, Colt stomps off to his room, I’m only a few paces behind him. He e pushes open the door, and points up at the wall right above his desk.

“Right here, see?” He says, staring back at me instead of the wall.

“Mhm… glaring issue, I’m noticing here…”

“Hm.”

“There’s no spider..”

“Wh- what?!”

“I told you!”

“There’s no way!”

“Moron… IT RAN AWAY BECAUSE YOUUUU LEFT IT ALONE.”

“WHERE THE FUCK DID IT GO?!”

“I dunno, probably in your bed.”

“Stop.”

“In your pillowcase, I’d guess. Nice and warm in there.” I smile with a shrug.

“STOP, you freak!”

“IT’S ON YOU!” I shout, pointing at Colt’s chest, taking a dramatic step back.

Colt shrieks, jumping nearly a foot in the air, clambering to rip his t-shirt off, stumbling into half the furniture in the room before he successfully removes it.

I snort, doubling over with my hands on my knees, cackling while Colt shakes out the fabric.

It takes him far too long to realize I was joking.

“You motherfucker.” He recovers from his shock, rolling his shirt up and whacking me across the shoulder with it.

“Ohhh that was great! I can’t believe you still fall for that!” I stand up, steadying myself.

“Yeah, hilarious- torturing your bugphobic brother. This is not what I called you here to do.” Colt grumbles, tossing the discarded shirt onto the bed.

“It’s arachnophobia. You’re not entomophobic.”

“What the fuck was that second one?”

“entomophobia. Fear of bugs. Which you do not have.”

“Spiders are bugs.”

“FACTUALLY incorrect, actually.”

“They are!”

“Eight legs, two body segments, no antennae. They’re arachnids. Hence arachnophobia.”

“Centipedes have a hundred legs and they’re bugs!”

“Still wrong. Myriapods. Listen- I’m not arguing with you on this. And anyway, there’s no spider, so really there’s nothing I can do, Colt. I dunno what to tell you.”

“What?! You’re not just gonna leave, are you?!”

“No spider, no job.”

“No spider, no lunch.”

“What!?” How dare he.

“No spider, no deal. No lunch.”

“No spider no job.” I throw my hands up. “No spider, no job, but still drive. Still drive 20 minutes to dumb brother’s house.”

“Find spider, do job, get lunch.” He counts off each point by raising three fingers.

“NO SPIDER TO FIND. SPIDER GONE.”

Why are we arguing like this? I’m not sure.

I start for the door, shoving the cup and paper into my robe pocket.

“NO! Help me find the spider, Rylie, that’s the entire point of you being here! I-if you leave you’ll have wasted a trip!”

Colt rushes past me, slamming the bedroom door closed. I take a step back.

“Let’s just- check the walls, a-at least! I’m not sleeping in this room with a rogue tarantula prowling around.”

“Oh he’s not rogue…”

Colt furrows his brow.

“I found it.”

“I- what?”

“Do not turn your head, just take for steps towards me, and turn around.”

Colt’s face drains of color, big blue eyes staring into mine with horror.

“Ryland.”

“You’d better start moving before it does.” I chuckle.

Colt does as I instruct, ducking forward, and leaping towards me, turning around to look at the door.

“EeeeEEEEHEEEE EW EW!!”

“That’s your guy, right?” I ask calmly.

“THAT THING WAS RIGHT NEXT TO MY HEAD.” He stands close behind me, and I can see him shaking.

“Colton, calm down, it’s not gonna kill you.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”

“Shhh- okay okay. I didn’t think you were this afraid of spiders…”

“WHY DO YOU THINK I CALLED YOU TO TAKE CARE OF IT?!”

“Bring it down- you’ve got neighbors, dummy.”

“Would you just shut up and get it?!” Colt whisper-shouts at me.

“If you’d get your claws out of my shoulder, I’ll get right on it.” I chuckle, looking down at Colt’s hand, clung viciously tight to my shoulder, the rest of him cowering behind me.

Colt’s grip loosens, then he steps sheepishly to the side.

“Sorry… Oh my god it’s massive…”

“Yeah, he is pretty big… or is that a she…” I take a step towards the spider, who couldn’t seem less interested in me or my shivering, wide-eyed doppelgänger.

“Oh god please let it be a man…”

“Woah! Spider sexist…”

“What if it’s a girl spider and she’s pregnant?!”

I tilt my head, examining the spider.

“It’s not pregnant, you goddamn baby. Its a he. It’s weirdly big for a house spider though…”

“I fuckin’ told you!” I can hear Colt pacing around behind me.

“Looks like a false wolf… Zoropsis spinimana.”

“You would know it’s full, government name…”

“Where’s my cup?” I ignore Colt, and take my eyes off the spider, patting myself down for the creature catching supplies.

“RYLAND!”

“What?!” I startle, looking back at my brother.

“THE SPIDER- YOU LOOKED AWAY, DIPFUCK, ITS MOVING!” He shrieks, pointing at the little trackstar, as it scampers farther up the door, heading for the upper wall.

“Shit- goddamnit- I can’t reach that- roll me your chair!” I snap my fingers, holding the cup at the ready.

Colt scrambles over to his desk, wheeling the chair over to me just as the spider crossed above the trim of the door.

I hop up on the chair, one hand steadying myself, and the other trapping the creature safely under the cup.

“Ohhh hang on….” I mutter

“What?!”

“SHIT. The paper! I need paper to slide under!”

“Where’d you put yours?!”

“In my robe pocket!”

“GRAB IT.”

“IM HOLDING THE SPIDER AND THE CHAIR. I’M FRESH OUT OF HANDS.”

“UGHHH. WHICH ONE.”

“LEFT- I- I THINK.” I shout, standing as still as I can with a now very pissed off spider running itself dizzy under the cup.

“Okay, hold still.”

Colt sighs, coming up behind me, searching for the pockets on my dark blue robe.

“Where the hell are the pockets?! Hello?!”

“Lower. No- yes, thehehre- stOP.”

“I don’t feel anything!” Colt shoves his hand into my pocket, searching around with his fingers, poking me in turn through the fabric.

“StohoHOP-! COLT. just- GRAHAB IT.”

“THERES NOTHING THERE.”

“OHOHOTHER SIDE, THEN!”

Without a word, he reaches his other hand around me, searching my right pocket with the same fervent prodding.

“Wihihill you STOP that?!”

“What?!”

“Y-you’re pohOHOKING ME! I’m trying to hold the spider in place, d-DOHON’T TICKLE ME.”

“I’M NOT! THIS IS ME TICKLING YOU.” Colt squeezes my side sharply, and I shriek, bringing a knee up.

“STOOOHOP, ARE UOU INSANE?! I’M GONNA FALL!”

I twist and contort my body, trying to keep myself torso out of reach without jostling the spider, or tumbling off the chair while Colt returns to clumsily turning out my pockets.

“GET A GRIP.” He hisses.

“I’M TRYHYHYING.”

“Oh my god- you wiggly fuckin’ worm…” Colt retracts his hands from my pockets, holding the chair steady while I stand there, wobbling and giggling.

“Shut up and check the floor, maybe I dropped the paper- this guy’s getting antsy.”

I can’t see him, but I take it that the moment of silence was him scanning the floor.

“Here! Yes!” He picks up the cardstock, and hands it to me.

I take it, sacrificing my balancing hand, and gingerly sliding it under the cup, securing the spider inside, shockingly, and thankfully, without incident.

We breathe a collective sigh of relief.

I step down from the chair, holding up the cup to look at the spider closer.

“This your ugly ass roomate?” I ask.

“Yeah. His lease is up. Get him out.” Colt sneers.

“I was talkyto the spider.”

“Oh fuck you.”

I snicker, carrying the critter to the window.

I peer out, but make no move to release it.

“What’re you waiting for, his uber to show up?”

“Nohoho, no. We’re too high up to let him out from here. He’ll fall.”

“Ohhhh Mother Teresa, everybody.”

“Well we don’t wanna kill him!”

“It’s not gonna kill him.”

“Let’s drop you from the fifth floor and see how you land.”

“Literally my entire job is falling out of, off of, and into things.”

“Onto straight concrete, you Looney Tune? Yeah, I don’t think so.” I scoff.

Colt looks blankly at me.

“Besides, If you wanted Pete dead you would have fabreezed him or sucked him up with the vacuum. You called me to get him, we’re taking him outside humanely.”

“Pete?”

“Yeah! Like Peter Parker! Spider-Man?”

“I know who Peter Parker is, thank you.”

“Wanna say hi?” I extend the cup his way, and he genuinely jumps back.

“NO, I do not want to say hi.”

“Well, C’mere anyway, I wanna show you something.”

“Ew. What.” Colt takes a tentative step toward Pete.

I hold up the cup, presenting it to my brother with a smile. “Look, see his eyes?”

“Unfortunately.”

“He’s only got two rows of them. Real wolf spiders have three. That’s one way to tell False Wolf’s from real ones.”

“The fact that you think I’d ever get close enough to a spider to count its eyeballs is bananas.”

“Just a fun fact.” I chuckle.

“Not fun. I actually wish you’d Un-show me that.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Please get that Goliath bird-eater out og my house.”

“Impressive species pull!” I say proudly.

“Thanks, Irwin. Out.” He points a finger towards the door.

“Right away, mate.” I put on my best Australian accent, snickering on my way to the door.

-

“Mission accomplished.” I toss the plastic cup in Colt’s recycling box, kicking the door closed behind me.

“Thank god… where’d you put him?” He replies, tugging his shirt back on.

“Suddenly you care?”

“About the potential of him returning, yes.”

I roll my eyes. “I put him out back in the bushes, relax.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter, shuffling into the kitchen, taking a can of Coke from Colt’s fridge.

“The hell are you doing in my kitchen, you little raccoon?”

“Twin tax.” I crack the can, walking back to the couch, sitting down beside my brother.

Twin tax? I already promised you lunch! That’s twin tax enough!”

“That was a down payment.”

“Unbelievable…”

“Mhm… And many times do you walk into my place and open my fridge?!”

“Like- once.”

“A WEEK.”

“BULLSHIT! I haven’t been in your dweeb den in forever!”

“Then why do I CONSISTENTLY find cans missing from my fridge that I didn’t take?”

Colt throws me a guilty side eye.

“Huh? Whys that? Curious…” I set my can down.

“What kind of psychopath keeps count of all the cans in their fridge…”

“One with a brother somehow in possession of his spare key.”

“You have my spare key too.”

“Holding it for ransom until I get mine back.”

“Whatever, man- Your place is on the way to my job! God forbid I drop in every once in a while!”

“Oh so you admit it” I snap back. “Stay outta my Apartment when I’m not home!”

“Ugh- don’t scold me with a bathrobe and slippers on, you look like mom.”

“Stay. Out. Of. My. Apartment.” I lean over, poking a finger infer into Colt’s chest with every word.

Colt snorts, curling up on himself, teetering backward.

“Seriously?”

“Whahat?!”

“I barely touched you- what’re you laughing at?”

“Oh come on! You were cackling like a witch like a half hour ago!”

“You were deliberately tickling me! While I had a spider in hand, mind you!”

“I was not! I was looking for that stupid paper!”

“Bullshit!” I squawk.

“I WAS. It is not my fault that a fast enough gust of wind against you could make your goofy ass laugh.” Colt huffs.

“ME?!”

“YES, YOU, RYLAND GRACE.”

“HAVE YOU MISPLACED YOUR MIND?! YOU’RE JUST AS BAD!” I laugh incredulously.

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE?!”

“I bet you ANY money, if Pete were to walk up your arm, you’d be in stitches.”

“I can tell you one thing for certain, and two things for sure - if Pete was walking up my arm, he’d soon be dead.”

“Don’t you dare say that about Peter. That’s my little guy you’re talking about.”

“Dead.”

“Stop.” I jab Colt in the shoulder. He smiles, scrunching it up towards his ear.

“SEE?!”

“Stop poking me!”

I point my finger at him sharply. Close to him, but not touching.

“Stohohop!” Ply giggles nervously, tense, leaning further away.

“I’m not touching you.”

“Get awahay from me, you weirdo!”

“I’m not touching you, though.” I chuckle, spinning my finger quickly in a circle.

“You’re so childish, my GOHOHOD!”

I latch my hand onto Colt’s stomach, gently scribbling against his t-shirt.

“Yeah, because I’m sleep deprived, thanks to you.”

I bring my other hand out to join the first, crawling my fingers out to Colt’s ribs.

He slumps back, cackling frantically.

“Because someone, at their grown age, needed help catching a spider in the middle of the night.”

“AH-! h-hahAHEHE- BUT YOU STILL CAHAHAME.”

“I did, out of the brotherly love in my heart.” I say, drawing a heart on the left center of Colt’s chest, earning something between a squawk and a yelp.

“BuhuHULLSHIT-! Y-you came behecause I prohohomised you food!”

“Yeah… that too. And I’ve been thinkin’ about that ribeye steak and potatoes this whole time.”

“STEHEHEAK?!” Colt shouts through laughter.

“You said whatever I wanted!”

“AND YOU CHOOSE STEHEAK, YOU BOUGIE BITCH?!”

“With three strawberry daiquiris, correct.”

“NOHOHO!”

I frown, stopping for a moment, looming over Colt.

“Absolutely nohohott! You’re gonna pick someplace insanely expensive.”

“Shoulda considered that before you offered.” I shrug.

“Outback strakhouse.” Colt proposes.

“Hell no! The Vault.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yes.”

“NO!”

Yes.” I hold clawed hands threateningly over Colt.

“StohOHOP, you maniac! I’m not buying you a four billion dollar steak from The Vault just for capturing a spider.

Oh yes he will.

I frown at Colt, backing off of him and plopping back into my spot on the couch, my brother still laid perpendicular to, legs bent at the knee.

“You can get your stupid fruity little girly drinks at Outback, I proHOHOHAHA- NOOONONO WAIT- WAIT!”

The moment I find him distracted enough, I grab one of Colt’s legs, yanking it straight in one arm, holding it tight to prevent him from kicking my teeth out.

With the other arm, I reach under his knee, ruthlessly dragging my nails into the hollow space.

“RYHYHYLAAAND-!” Colt barks out, kicking his free leg against the couch, laughter frantic, loud, and panicked.

Though the rest of him was numb from the years he’d spent getting… I dunno- shot out of cannons-? I who knows what they have him doing on those movie sets… the spot behind the knee had always remained something of an Achilles heel for Colt.

I feel him grip the collar of my robe, yanking it, and me backwards in an attempt to pry me away.

The effort is minimally effective, serving only to rip a few stitches in the fabric.

“Steak dinner, two appetizers, three drinks.”

“NOHOHO!”

“Fine.” I quickly slip an arm free from my robe, and reach down to instead grab Colt by the ankle.

“OKAAAY OKAHAHAY, OKAY. FINE- DON’T!”

“Fine what, Colton?”

I look over my shoulder at him.

“YOU CAN HAVE YOUR STUPID BOUGIE MEAL. PLEHEASE-“

“Where?” I claw a hand across the bottom of Colt’s foot.

Okay, so two Achilles heels.

“THE VAHAHAULT! THE VAULT! STAAHAHAP!!”

Colt shouts, slamming his hand against the couch in intervals of three. Okay, enough.

I let go immedietly. Colt scrambles up, clumsily scampering off the couch, banging into the table, as well as the wall, finally standing a safe coffee table’s length ahead of me, panting like a dog, hands on his knees.

“Good! You free this Saturday at 2-ish?”

“Fuck… you…”

“Mmmno, sorry I’m not free at Fuck You’o’clock, sorry, latest I can do is 4.” I sit back with crossed arms.

“Oh I can’t stand you.”

“Have a seat, then.” I snicker.

Colt stands up stomping around the table towards me again.

“No- nO NO, TRUCE. Truce, enough, it’s late…” I lean away, kicking a leg at him.

I wasn’t sure what he was planning to do, but I figured that would be a good enough defense.

“Ohhh sure, okay.” Colt grumbles, flopping down on the couch beside me.

“No more.”

We both sigh, relishing the silence. My ears faintly ring, recovering from Colt’s shooting and hollering.

“…”

“…”

“Saturday at 3, I’ll be at your building.”

“Yes!”

“Five minutes, and if you’re not in the car, I’m doing a donut in the street, and going home.”

“Deal!”

I extend my hand to Colt.

He accepts it with a firm shake.

“And thank you- I guess- for getting rid of Pete.”

I smile. “No problem. Call me anytime.”

“For the low low price of a Michelin star meal…”

“Stop it- you offered that.”

“Would you have come if I didn’t?”

“With a little more convincing, yes. I know you’d hopefully do the same.” I shrug, shifting to lie down on the couch.

“I would. But I’m gonna charge an arm and a goddamn leg.”

“I don’t have movie set money, Colton.” I mutter

“Sucks to suck.”

“…”

“…”

“What’re you getting so comfy for? Your job is done, you’re free to go.”

“I know… I thought I’d throw in night spider security as a bonus. Free of charge.” I say through a yawn.

“That’s what that is?”

“Mhm”

“Security with your eyes closed?”

“Yeah.”

“My god…”

“It’s four in the morning, I’m not driving home, I’ll fall asleep behind the wheel.”

I hear Colt stand up, muttering under his breath.

“Fine. Please don’t snore.”

“I don’t.”

“You do, like a chainsaw. Especially sleeping on the couch.”

“Okay! Okay, I won’t.” I roll over, my back to Colt.

He says nothing.

I hear him shuffling around the room for a minute or so. I don’t bother turning around to see what he’s doing. It’s his apartment anyway, he’s free to march around if he likes.

I’m already half asleep anyway, the energy to move quickly draining from my body.

The living room light clicks off.

“Night, Loser.” I mutter.

A heavy weight drops on top of me. A blanket. It unfolds over me, covering my body completely.

Colt gives me a pat on the shoulder.