He sat perched on my chest a few seconds longer, then grunted and rolled off. I sat up, gasping, rubbing my face where he had poked it.
"Sorry," Steve mumbled. "That was over the top. But I'm upset. It hurt, what Mr. Crepsley said, and you ignoring me at school. You're my best friend, Darren, the only person I can really talk to. If you break up our friendship, I don't know what I'll do."
He started to cry. I watched him for a few seconds, torn between fear and sympathy. Then my nobler self got the better of me and I put an arm around his shoulder. "It's okay," I said. "I'll still be your friend. C'mon, Steve, quit crying, okay?"
He tried but it took a while for the tears to stop. "I must look like a total fool," he finally sniffed.
"No," I said. "I'm the fool. I should have stood by you. I was a coward. I never stopped to imagine what you must be going through. I was only thinking of myself and Madam..." I made a face and stopped talking.
Steve stared at me curiously. "What were you going to say?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said. "It was a slip of the tongue."
He grunted. "You're a bad liar, Shan. Always were. Tell me what it was you were about to let slip."
I studied his face, wondering if I should tell him. I knew I shouldn't, that it could only mean trouble, but I felt sorry for him. Besides, I needed to tell someone. I wanted to show off my wonderful pet and the great tricks we could do.
"Can you keep a secret?" I asked.
"Of course," he snorted.
"This is a big one. You can't tell anyone, okay? If I tell you, it has to stay between the two of us. If you ever talk..."
"You'll talk about me and Mr. Crepsley," Steve said, grinning. "You have me over a barrel. No matter what you tell me, you know I can't blab, even if I wanted to. What's the big secret?"
"Wait a minute," I said. I got off the bed and opened the door to the room. "Mom?" I shouted.
"Yes?" came her muffled reply.
"I'm showing Steve my flute," I yelled. "I'm going to teach him how to play it, but only if we're not disturbed, okay?"
"Okay," she called back.
I closed the door and smiled at Steve. He looked puzzled. "A flute?" he asked. "Your big secret is a flute?"
"That's part of it," I said. "Listen, do you remember Madam Octa? Mr. Crepsley's spider?"
"Of course," he said. "I wasn't paying much attention to her when she was on but I don't think anyone could ever forget a creature like that. Those hairy legs: brrrr!"
I opened the door to the closet while he was speaking and got out the cage. His eyes squinted when he saw it, then widened. "That's not what I think it is, is it?" he asked.
"That depends," I said, whipping off the cloth. "If you think it's a deadly performing spider you're right!"
"Oh man!" he gasped, almost falling off the bed in shock. "That's a...she's a...where did...Wow!"
I was delighted with his reaction. I stood over the cage, smiling like a proud father. Madam Octa lay on the floor, quiet as ever, paying no attention to me or Steve.
"She's awesome!" Steve said, crawling closer for a better look. "She looks just the same as the one in the circus. I can't believe you found one that looks so similar. Where'd you get her? A pet shop? From a zoo?"
My smile slipped. "I got her from the Cirque Du Freak, of course," I said uneasily.
"From the freak show?" he asked, face crinkling. "They were selling live spiders? I didn't see any. How much did she cost?"
I shook my head and said: "I didn't buy her, Steve. I...Can't you guess? Don't you understand?"
"Understand what?" he asked.
"That's not a similar spider," I said. "That's the same one. It's Madam Octa."
He stared at me, as though he hadn't heard what I'd said. I was about to repeat it, but he spoke up before I could. "The...same...one?" he asked in a slow, trembling voice.
"Yes," I said.
"You mean...that's...Madam Octa? The Madam Octa?"
"Yes," I said again, laughing at his shock.
"That's...Mr. Crepsley's spider?"
"Steve, what's wrong? How many times do I have to say it for you to..."
"Wait a minute," he snapped, shaking his head. "If this is really Madam Octa, how did you get your hands on her? Did you find her outside? Did they sell her off?"
"Nobody would sell a great spider like this," I said.
"That's what I thought," Steve agreed. "So how did..." He left the question hanging in the air.
"I stole her," I said, puffing up proudly. "I went back to the theater that Tuesday morning, crept in, found where she was, and snuck out with her. I left a note telling Mr. Crepsley not to come looking for her or I'd report his being a vampire to the police."
"You...you..." Steve was gasping. His face had turned white and he looked like he was about to collapse.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"You...imbecile!" he roared. "You lunatic! You moron!"
"Hey!" I shouted, upset.
"Idiot! Dumbo! Cretin!" he yelled. "Do you realize what you've done? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're in?"
"Huh? "I asked, bewildered.
"You stole a vampire's spider!" Steve shouted. "You stole from a member of the undead! What do you think he's going to do when he catches up with you, Darren? Spank your bottom and scold you? Tell your parents and make them ground you? We're talking about a vampire! He'll rip out your throat and feed you to the spider! He'll tear you to pieces and..."
"No, he won't," I said calmly.
"Of course he will," Steve replied.
"No," I said, "he won't. Because he won't find me. I stole the spider the Tuesday before last, so he's had nearly two whole weeks to track me down, but there hasn't been a sign of him. He left with the circus and won't ever come back, not if he knows what's good for him."
"I dunno," Steve said. "Vampires have long memories. He might return when you're grown up and have kids of your own."