What's more frightening?

My brother left on Friday, and I watched from his house as my sister's plane left on Wednesday. That means I'm really on my own, and doing my best to be self-disciplined. But this morning, Friday, I heard the beach calling my name like a siren song. I arrived by 8:30, and found that there were lots of other folks who had the same idea. The surf at south Kihei was light; the water was clear and flat. Snorkelers were exploring the rocks at the south side of Ulua Beach. There was a clean smell coming from the ocean, like fresh linen on a clothesline. It filled me up with summer. I sat for a while, walked a little, and swam just enough to get sand in places I didn't know I had places.

When my sister was here, she worked almost non-stop on her projects. I finally convinced her to take a break, and enjoy the fancy new tub in the master suite. She went downstairs, grabbed her towel and sleepwear, and came upstairs to settle in to a nice bath.

I need to tell you that when my sister is freaking out, say, when we are driving, she doesn't say "look out!" or "stop!" No, she calls me by my proper name, saying "Patrice Patrice Patrice!" I've tried to get her to modify this, and for the most part, she just doesn't freak out about impending doom or collision. But on that night, I heard her scream my name in rapid succession, so I ran to the bathroom. I threw open the door, and there was my older sister, in the buff, standing knee-deep in a Jacuzzi tub. On the floor was a massive spider creeping toward the tub. I knew it had to be big, because neither of us had our glasses on, and it looked to be the size of a mouse. "Patrice Patrice Patrice!" She was veritably shrieking.

I tried to put her at ease by saying that I would use my "Hawaiian Bug Killer," also known as a flip-flop. I took aim at the spider, and missed. But for some reason it didn't scurry away, and the next blow was fatal. I had bagged my first cane spider.

Jeanette settled down, and I think she enjoyed the rest of her soak. But I was mystified about how that big spider could be in that particular bathroom. This house is brand new, and it's sealed and caulked like nothing I've ever seen. I came to the conclusion that it had hitched a ride upstairs on my sister's towel.

I don't like spiders at all, but I knew I had to come to her rescue since I was dressed. As I thought about the incident later, I don't know what was more frightening, a spider the size of a Buick, or a glimpse of what my body will look like in two more years. In the past whenever we had a sister's shopping trip, I was smug that I was in better shape, only to find that in two years, gravity and similar genetics would play the same tricks on me.

I have a few more days in Maui all by myself. This is the first time in my life I've been alone for more than a day or two. At least I hope I'm alone, and that there are no more cane spiders. I'm just going to be careful to shake out my towels before I use them, just in case.