The Spiders' Tale

8. Pushing Potatoes

Mr. Bence VanDer, the mayor, had returned from work. Dragomir was surprised to see him at the dinner table, his fingers pressed under the skin of his bushy eyebrows, blocking most of his face save his long, rounded nose. For so long as Dragomir had been sitting in the living room, he had not seen Vivian’s father enter the front door. He couldn’t believe he was so distracted as that.

Mr. VanDer and Dragomir watched in silence as Morgana sat little Mari atop the books atop her chair. Satisfied with her daughter’s height in comparison to the table, Morgana pushed Mari’s chair in and then sat herself. Vivian emerged from the kitchen with a tray of steaming baked chicken and placed it atop a lace doily beside the dilled potatoes, squash with herbs, and fresh string beans. After holding hands and saying grace, everyone served themselves and thus dinner commenced.

All was silent except for the scraping of utensils against plates. Dragomir peered across the table at Vivian, who returned his passive gaze. The boy turned his eyes to Morgana, then Bence, then Mari, and realized all of them were merely doing a combination of playing with their food and looking up at one another expectantly.

Bence sighed. “Well, if someone must take the first bite...” He took it upon himself. In slow succession, the remaining VanDers followed suit while Dragomir continued to push potatoes about his plate. Still, no one spoke.

Dinner carried on in this manner until Bence, again, broke the silence. “Dragomir,” he began, “There was a town meeting today, sometime after the... The incident. Did you attend?”

The boy shook his head.

“I thought not,” continued the mayor, “I couldn’t recall seeing you, though I had hoped you were there anyway.”

“I was not informed.”

“It was announced not too long after your arrival,” murmured Vivian, staring down her plate. “You must not have heard the crier.”

“...Oh.” He didn’t realize he was so distracted to not have even heard the loudest citizen in town.

“Well, never mind that,” Bence continued, cutting his chicken into even smaller bits, “I understand today has taken a most devastating turn, for you especially. Though, I presume the topic of our meeting would have been of interest.”

Dragomir glanced at Vivian as she curiously peered up from her plate, and then at Morgana as she shot her husband a warning stare. Bence didn’t appear to notice.

“Of what did you speak?” Dragomir politely inquired.

“Manners, Bence,” muttered Morgana, though Mr. VanDer still didn’t take any notice.

 The mayor lowered his voice and leaned closer to the recent orphan when he answered, “We intend to kill the monster; figured you might want to join, all things considered.”

There was a moment of silence whereby Dragomir pondered how best to respond. In this moment there sounded a little sniffle, followed by a shaking procession of hiccuping sobs. Upon looking over his shoulder, he found Mariana with tears streaming down her face and chewed squash dripping from her mouth.

Morgana abruptly stood, her chair harshly screeching over the hardwood floor. “Manners, Bence! I do not say such things for sheer pleasure of hearing my voice!” Mrs. VanDer’s loudness only encouraged Mariana to match her in volume, and so she sat wailing, mouth open to reveal the rest of her masticated victuals. 

Mr. VanDer stared at his wife with widened eyes, as if surprised by the unfolding of events.

After throwing up her hands, Morgana tended to her youngest daughter, muttering a string of comforting phrases and carrying her out of the room. The distance they went was marked by the gradual quieting of Mariana’s cries. Not a word was said between the three left at the dining room until Vivian, quiet and polite, excused herself from the table. After sharing an apologetic glance with Dragomir, she, too, left.