“Okay. Seriously, [Top Hat Spider]. Why are you hanging around here? What is it about this house that keeps you here?” His body is mostly obscured by the large black top hat he keeps with him constantly. His ten legs look very much like a spiders, and two of the legs are used to keep the hat firmly in place when he’s crawling on the walls or ceiling.
I’ve seen the hat slip enough to know, his “body” is actually a human head. When he “faces” me, I can recognize the remnants of the structure of the neck. The hat covers the face. I can’t tell if he talks from the mouth, or if he is just vibrating sound.
I call him “Top Hat Spider”, because of his initial impressions on me. But when I’m talking to him, or referring to him for other Regulars, I have no name. None is needed. We all just know who we are talking about. He knows I use this moniker when referring to him in my writings. It makes him chuckle.
“I like to see you writing. Well, typing, to be precise. Either way, you’re placing words in sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into rivers of ideas that just flow.” He settles on the wall above my television, two legs holding the top hat firmly in place, nearly perpendicular to the wall.
“So… you eavesdrop on me.”
“Well… er… um… Yes.” Did he sound embarrassed about it? He quickly added, “But only your writings! I don’t… peek… at your body. That would be rude. Very rude. And improper.”
There was once a time when I would have been horrified to be reminded that the spirits can, and do, see all things physical. That I’ve never been alone in this room. That I’ve always been watched. Such is the paranoid sentiment that drove me into madness before.
Now? “Think I’m losing weight too fast?”
Top Hat Spider paused for a moment. I had actually shocked him into silence with the question. He shuffled on the wall slightly, before settling down and surrendering to the obvious. “No. You’re progressing quite fine. But you should drink more water. It will help with your headaches.”
He quickly regained his matter-of-fact vocal presentation, but I was too busy laughing. After banishing the tension, I asked him about his existence before coming to this house. He tightened his legs under him and asked that I not ask him about that again. He did not want to discuss it. “It doesn’t matter anymore. That did not come with me.”
I asked him what keeps him here. He said he has no other place to go. He continued without prompting, “I wasn’t here when you were a child. I’ve only been here a few years. I heard you reading your words out loud and thought they made a lovely sound. I now have a place to repose, and two writers to enjoy.”.
Two? At my glare he quickly continued with, “I respect your daughter’s privacy! She reads her stories out loud to herself as well. It is possible that she has picked up that habit from you.”.
“So… aside from allowing you to continue to eavesdrop on my writings, and starting to make proper tea… what do you want from me?”
He moved closer to me, but still remained high on the wall. “Conversation. So few in here remember words. And fewer of them remember how to use them effectively.”
I can do that. I started to ask him what he does for the house. He interrupted me with formal severity. “In return, Madam, I shall do my best to keep the house secure from those that would upset the peace you are trying to place here.”
I can accept that.
I asked him if I had his permission to write of our “meeting”. He was delighted and a few legs wiggled in gaiety. Of course, that meant he had to proofread the entry. Of which I am poking fun at him now, because we have had words over which words to use. “Gaiety”, such as. (He won that one.)
I suppose the only thing left really is to give him a better pseudonym than “Top Hat Spider”. He said he’s willing to consider suggestions, as long as they are not “that droll, trite, and classless babbling that passes for names these days”. He went on a little more about refined names such as “Reginald”, and “Alexander”. He caught himself in mid-rant, realized I was taking notes of his rant, and excused himself.
“You have a post to finish, and I am distracting you.”
I have finished the post, and I am greatly amused.