No person who can read is ever successful at cleaning out an attic.
Ann Landers
ePub
A4Chapter 21: Last Day
C
harlotte and Wilbur were alone.The families had gone to look for Fern.
Templeton was asleep. Wilbur lay
resting after the excitement and strain of
the ceremony. His medal still hung from
his neck; by looking out of the corner of
his eye he could see it.
"Charlotte," said Wilbur after a
while, "why are you so quiet?"
"I like to sit still," she said. "I've
always been rather quiet."
"Yes, but you seem specially so
today. Do you feel all right?"
"A little tired, perhaps. But I feel
peaceful. Your success in the ring this
morning was, to a small degree, any
success. Your future is assured. You will
live, secure and safe, Wilbur. Nothing
can harm you now. These autumn days
will shorten and grow cold. The leaves
will shake loose from the trees and fall.
Christmas will come, then the snows of
winter. You will live to enjoy the beauty
of the frozen world, for you mean a great
deal to Zuckerman and he will not harm
you, ever. Winter will pass, the days
will lengthen, the ice will melt in the
pasture pond. The song sparrow will
return and sing, the frogs will awake, the
warm wind will blow again. All these
sights and sounds and smells will be
yours to enjoy, Wilbur - this lovely
world, these precious days..."
Charlotte stopped. A moment later
a tear came to Wilbur's eye. "Oh,
Charlotte," he said. "To think that when I
first met you I thought you were cruel
and bloodthirsty!"
When he recovered from his
emotion, he spoke again. "Why did you
do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't
deserve it. I've never done anything for
you."
"You have been my friend," replied
Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous
thing. I wove my webs for you because I
liked you. After all, what's a life,
anyway? We're born, we live a little
while, we die. A spider's life can't help
being something of a mess, with all this
trapping and eating flies. By helping you,
perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a
trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can
stand a little of that."
"Well," said Wilbur. "I'm no good
at making speeches. I haven't got your
gift for words. But you have saved me,
Charlotte, and I would gladly give my
life for you - I really would."
"I'm sure you would. And I thank
you for your generous sentiments."
"Charlotte," said Wilbur. "We're all
going home today. The Fair is almost
over. Won't it be wonderful to be back
home in the barn cellar again with the
sheep and the geese? Aren't you anxious
to get home?"
For a moment Charlotte said
nothing. Then she spoke in a voice so
low Wilbur could hardly hear the words.
"I will not be going back to the
barn," she said.
Wilbur leapt to his feet. "Not going
back?" he cried. "Charlotte, what are
you talking about?"
"I'm done for," she replied. "In a
day or two I'll be dead. I haven't even
strength enough to climb down into the
crate. I doubt if I have enough silk in my
spinnerets to lower me to the ground."
Hearing this, Wilbur threw himself
down in an agony of pain and sorrow.
Great sobs racked his body. He heaved
and grunted with desolation. "Charlotte,"
he moaned. "Charlotte! My true friend!"
"Come now, let's not make a
scene," said the spider. "Be quiet,
Wilbur. Stop thrashing about!"
"But I can't stand it," shouted
Wilbur. "I won't leave you here alone
to die. If you're going to stay here I
shall stay, too."
"Don't be ridiculous," said
Charlotte. "You can't stay here.
Zuckerman and Lurvy and John Arable
and the others will be back any minute
now, and they'll shove you into that crate
and away you'll go. Besides, it wouldn't
make any sense for you to stay. There
would be no one to feed you. The Fair
Grounds will soon be empty and
deserted."
Wilbur was in a panic. He raced
round and round the pen. Suddenly he
had an idea - he thought of the egg sac
and the five hundred and fourteen little
spiders that would hatch in the spring. If
Charlotte herself was unable to go home
to the barn, at least he must take her
children along.
Wilbur rushed to the front of his
pen. He put his front feet up on the top
board and gazed around. In the distance
he saw the Arables and the Zuckermans
approaching. He knew he would have to
act quickly.
"Where's Templeton?" he
demanded.
"He's in that corner, under the
straw, asleep," said Charlotte.
Wilbur rushed over, pushed his
strong snout under the rat, and tossed
him into the air.
"Templeton!" screamed Wilbur.
"Pay attention!"
The rat, surprised out of a sound
sleep, looked first dazed then disgusted.
"What kind of monkeyshine is
this?" he growled. "Can't a rat catch a
wink of sleep without being rudely
popped into the air?"
"Listen to me!" cried Wilbur.
"Charlotte is very ill. She has only a
short time to live. She cannot accompany
us home, because of her condition.
Therefore, it is absolutely necessary that
I take her egg sac with me. I can't reach
it, and I can't climb. You are the only one
that can get it. There's not a second to be
lost. The people are coming - they'll be
here in no time. Please, please, please,
Templeton, climb up and get the egg
sac."
The rat yawned. He straightened his
whiskers. Then he looked up at the egg
sac.
"So!" he said, in disgust. "So it's
old Templeton to the rescue again, is it?
Templeton do this, Templeton do that,
Templeton please run down to the dump
and get me a magazine clipping,
Templeton please lend me a piece of
string so I can spin a web."
"Oh, hurry!" said Wilbur. "Hurry
up, Templeton!"
But the rat was in no hurry. He
began imitating Wilbur's voice.
"So it's 'Hurry up, Templeton,' is
it?" He said. "Ho, ho. And what thanks
do I ever get for these services, I would
like to know? Never a kind word for old
Templeton, only abuse and wisecracks
(joke; sarcastic remark) and side
remarks. Never a kind word for a rat."
"Templeton," said Wilbur in
desperation, "if you don't stop talking
and get busy, all will be lost, and I will
die of a broken heart. Please climb up!"
Templeton lay back in the straw.
Lazily he placed his forepaws behind his
head and crossed his knees, in an
attitude of complete relaxation.
"Die of a broken heart," he
mimicked. "How touching! My, my! I
notice that it's always me you come to
when in trouble. But I've never heard of
anyone's heart breaking on my account.
Oh, no. Who cares anything about old
Templeton?"
"Get up!" screamed Wilbur. "Stop
acting like a spoiled child!
Templeton grinned and lay still.
"Who made trip after trip to the dump?"
he asked. "Why, it was old Templeton!
Who saved Charlotte's life by scaring
that Arable boy away with a rotten
goose egg? Bless my soul, I believe it
was old Templeton. Who bit your tail
and got you back on your feet this
morning after you had fainted in front of
the crowd? Old Templeton. Has it ever
occurred to you that I'm sick of running
errands and doing favors? What do you
think I am, anyway, a rat-of-all-work?"
Wilbur was desperate. The people
were coming. And the rat was failing
him. Suddenly he remembered
Templeton's fondness for food.
"Templeton," he said, "I will make
you a solemn promise. Get Charlotte's
egg sac for me, and from now on I will
let you eat first, when Lurvy slops me. I
will let you have your choice of
everything in the trough and I won't touch
a thing until you're through."
The rat sat up. "You mean that?" he
said.
"I promise. I cross my heart."
"All right, it's a deal," said the rat.
He walked to the wall and started to
climb. His stomach was still swollen
from last night's gorge. Groaning and
complaining, he pulled himself slowly to
the ceiling. He crept along till he
reached the egg sac. Charlotte moved
aside for him. She was dying, but she
still had strength enough to move a little.
Then Templeton bared his long ugly teeth
and began snipping the threads that
fastened the sac to the ceiling. Wilbur
watched from below.
"Use extreme care!" he said. "I
don't want a single one of those eggs
harmed."
"Thith thtuff thticks in my mouth,"
complained the rat. "It'th worth than
caramel candy."
But Templeton worked away at the
job, and managed to cut the sac adrift
and carry it to the ground, where he
dropped it in front of Wilbur. Wilbur
heaved a great sigh of relief.
"Thank you, Templeton," he said. "I
will never forget this as long as I live."
"Neither will I," said the rat,
picking his teeth. "I feel as though I'd
eaten a spool of thread. Well, home we
go!"
Templeton crept into the crate and
buried himself in the straw. He got out of
sight just in time. Lurvy and John Arable
and Mr. Zuckerman came along at that
moment, followed by Mrs. Arable and
Mrs. Zuckerman and Avery and Fern.
Wilbur had already decided how he
would carry the egg sac - there was only
one way possible. He carefully took the
little bundle in his mouth and held it
there on top of his tongue. He
remembered what Charlotte had told him
- that the sac was waterproof and strong.
It felt funny on his tongue and made him
drool a bit. And of course he couldn't
say anything. But as he was being
shoved into the crate, he looked up at
Charlotte and gave her a wink. She knew
he was saying good-bye in the only way
he could. And she knew her children
were safe.
"Good-bye!" she whispered. Then
she summoned all her strength and
waved one of her front legs at him.
She never moved again. Next day,
as the Ferris wheel was being taken
apart and the race horses were being
loaded into vans and the entertainers
were packing up their belongings and
driving away in their trailers, Charlotte
died. The Fair Grounds were soon
deserted. The sheds and buildings were
empty and forlorn.
The infield was littered with
bottles and trash. Nobody, of the
hundreds of people that had visited the
Fair, knew that a grey spider had played
the most important part of all. No one
was with her when she died.
