BORIS

“Please don’t be jealous, Elizabeth, but I slept with Boris last night.

Love Gran.”

I was surrounded by my school friends when I received this email. I was shocked and horrified. My face turned a bright shade of scarlet. What would my friends be thinking when they looked at me? I wanted to hide. I wanted the earth to swallow me. How could grandma send a message like that? She knows how I feel about Boris. How can she be so cruel? I could feel myself starting to tremble and quiver. Boris, with a heart as black as thunder and looks to match, sleeping with my Grandma? Imagining that revolting scenario is more than embarrassing, it is downright alarming. And Grandma asking me not to be jealous? Jealous of that ghastly, creepy monster? Never. I vowed that I would never ever show the email to anyone, especially not to Grandpa.

I had a strange encounter with Boris recently and it is an experience I do not wish to repeat. Boris, a dark evil name which conjures up unpleasant, nasty images, would have to be the most gruesome fellow that I have ever met. His looks are ‘flesh creeping’ and the image I have imprinted in my brain is one I would rather forget. Let me describe him to you and you will understand completely. He had two dark piercing eyes, eyes that captured and mesmerised me, eyes that could see through into my frightened soul. I could not look away no matter how hard I tried. Something was compelling me to keep looking at his unblinking eyes. Boris sent shivers up and down my spine and I felt completely helpless. I wanted to run away but couldn’t. My feet were stuck like glue to the floor.

Black straggly tufts of hair fell forward concealing his brows so that I couldn’t tell if he was scowling, surprised or indifferent towards me. His nose was long and wide, protruding over his thin unsmiling lips. Teeth that looked like fangs were covered in bits of his last meal. Was he the incarnation of a Dracula-like creature? He certainly looked as if he wanted to bite me and I was scared, extremely scared. An uglier, grislier face I have never seen.

Boris was dressed in dark brown hairy clothing which shone in reflected light, like a sinister alien straight out the film “Star Wars”. His long gangly arms and legs which were sprawled out menacingly in front were covered in a fine black, hairy down. His untidy, unkempt look scared the wits out of me. I was becoming alarmed and agitated as each moment passed in his presence. I wanted him out of the room and out of my life forever. Would he make a move towards me? My mind was racing, thinking of some escape route but I daren’t move, in fact I couldn’t move.

Boris never uttered a sound throughout the whole encounter and neither could I. How could he eye ball me with those two spheres of evil and remain voiceless? At least to give me some idea of his intentions. He just stared and stared silently. His muteness was unnerving and I thought I would scream but my dry mouth and tongue refused to allow any sound to come forth. I was petrified.

After what seemed like an eternity, Grandma eventually found me in a catatonic state. Sounding quite alarmed, she asked me, “Whatever is wrong Elizabeth?”

It took all my will-power to allow me to slowly raise my right arm to the ceiling and point to Boris. “I w-want h-him o-out of m-my r-room”. I stammered.

Grandma was not in the least sympathetic. “Boris is only a huntsman. He won’t hurt you. He is a friendly spider. He eats mosquitoes and cockroaches, not sixteen year old girls.”

“I don’t care. Get him out of here.” I replied.

So Grandma got the soft broom and gently eased Boris out the door and placed him on a tree trunk.

What a relief it was to know that I didn’t have to sleep with nasty Boris that night. Grandma, on the other hand, is such a funny person, don’t you agree? She likes spiders and her house is full of them. One cannot reach the back door without becoming entangled in a cobweb or two. She doesn’t mind sleeping with Boris the spider and I guess Grandpa doesn’t either but there is no way in this world that I would ever sleep with Boris or be jealous of Grandma sleeping with him. Now, why would she send me that Email? Does she have the craziest sense of humour or has she a streak of mischievous evil to match her friend, Boris?