Page 28 of Make Me Scream

She is afraid, though — very much. Her skin’s so pale I’m amazed she hasn’t passed out, and her body trembles in its bindings. Whether or not she’s signaled for help, she clearly needs it.

“Get her out of there,” I tell the guard.

He gives me another look, then shakes his head and points to the sign.

Should she require assistance, a staff member will see to her needs.

“She’s suffering. You have to do something.”

He sneers at me.

“She has a safeword,” he says.

With his head shaved bald and a small, pinched face, he could be almost any age. He’s broad in his upper body but underdeveloped in the stomach and legs. If he wore a singlet instead of a suit, I could picture him in a wrestling ring.

“Maybe she’s too scared to say it,” I say.

“That’s her problem. Now fuck off.”

My jaw drops at the audacity.

Seriously?

What am I supposed to do, just trust a roided-out goon knows what’s best for a woman he’s probably never met? Three padlocks seal the lid shut; there’s no way I could open it myself. Is there a manager here who could help?

I’m not the only one at the exhibit; a dozen others watch as the spider weaves strands of silk, gradually getting closer to the woman’s face. The web shifts and bounces, like a rowboat moored to a dock, as her breath pushes and tugs at it.

Now I know what it must have been like to be in the audience at Alistair Rat’s staging ofDeath of a Salesman.This is clearly fucked up, but… it’s part of the show, isn’t it?

No, fuck that.

I turn to go find Lane when the gallery’s house lights dim and a spotlight shines on “Exposure Therapy.” Chatter ceases as Lane approaches, replaced by excited whispers and soft laughs.

Lane gently knocks on the exhibit’s glass.

“Tabitha, are you okay in there?”

She nods, lips pressed together so hard they could be glued shut.

“Are you still afraid?”

Tabitha nods again.

“You are? You’re handling it beautifully.”

She smiles.

He fishes a key from his pocket and unlocks the lid. The guard reaches behind the case and produces a small, glass terrarium, then gathers the spider in the palm of his hand.

A wave of weightlessness moves through me; I spread my legs to find my balance.

Breathe.

I look when the audience claps, and see the spider’s been put away safely. The guard even clears away the webs.

“Do you think Tabitha here has earned her reward?” Lane asks the audience.

They cheer, causing Tabitha to blush deeply.

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