Three weeks ago I went to see my best friend Kameko in Japan. I had recently had problems with a guy I dated, Chet, turning stalkery when I broke things off, and I wanted some time away from dealing with that. More importantly, I was excited both because I’ve never been to the country (or much of anywhere), and I hadn’t seen her in person since a few weeks after college graduation, which had been almost five years ago. She had lived in Tokyo for a couple of years when she moved back, but when her grandmother had died, she inherited the woman's home out in the country about 20km from Osaki. It was a large house that been in the family for generations, and based on the pictures she had sent me, I was excited to stay in such a neat place too.
She came to pick me up at the airport, and after hugging and talking excitedly for a few minutes, we headed to her car. She seemed just the same as she always had—smart, funny, and full of life—but I know her too well. I could see something was worrying her as we drove through the beautiful countryside, her pointing out this cool thing or that historic site with a fluidity that made me wonder if she was making up some of the facts and names as she went. I laughed inwardly at the idea of her making up tourist facts, but when she took a break from pointing things out, I asked her if everything was okay.
She glanced at me with a nervous smile. “You always do that. Yeah, everything is okay, but I’ve been debating on when to tell you about the….unique feature of my house.”
I had been smiling back, but I felt the expression slipping away at her tone. “What’s that?”
“Well, you know this is an old house I have, right? My great-great grandparents built it over a hundred years ago. And I had never even been to it while my grandmother was alive.” I could tell she was trying to build up her courage to get it out, and before I could respond, she finally did. “Well, the house is kinda haunted? Kinda not really?” Her voice went up at the end like she was asking for my confirmation.
I raised an eyebrow. I had been expecting her to say the plumbing was bad or that the wiring was wonky. Not this. And kinda? What did that even…
“What I mean is, it’s not a ghost. It’s a yokai. Which I can tell you don’t know what that is. Ok. Its kind of a general term for a wide variety of creatures and spirits in Japanese folklore. And apparently they’re real, at least some of them, because I have one.”
I felt disoriented. I’d have thought it was a practical joke, but Kameko hated pranks and I could tell she was serious. I considered if she was on drugs or having a mental issue, but knowing her, that seemed unlikely too. So I decided to just roll with it.
“Okay. Weird. So what kind of thing do you have? Can you see it?”
She nodded slowly. “Oh yeah. And it sounds way creepier than it is. Its just a really big spider.”
Unexpectedly, a burst of laughter pushed its way out of my throat. “Fuck. I thought you were serious.”
Kameko was frowning and shaking her head, her eyes going between me and the road. “I am. And its not really a spider, at least not a normal spider. But its about the size of…well, like that show Lassie. Its about Lassie-sized. And it’s lived there since the house was built, at least according to the letter my grandmother left me when she died. It doesn’t hurt or bother anything or anybody, and most of the time it stays out of sight. Occasionally it’ll come out to watch t.v. if I have it on. It likes game shows for some reason. But the best thing is it keeps the house immaculate.”
I blinked. “Your border collie-sized spider ghost is a maid.”
She shot me a look. “Not a ghost, a spirit, or part spirit, or whatever. But yes, it cleans. Never when you’re around, and it has to be through magic, but I haven’t had to lift a finger since I moved in.”
I turned in my seat to face her more directly. “Okay, what’s the deal? Is this a joke about me being messy? I don’t get it.”
She sighed. “I know how it sounds. But I didn’t want you being terrified when you saw it, and you know I never would have invited you here if I didn’t truly believe its safe. It was weird for me at first too. Now I kind of look at it like having a fucked up family dog that doesn’t die.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but I had no words. Finally, deciding I’d just have to let this weirdness play out, I said okay and settled back in my seat.
When we arrived at the house, I was awestruck by how beautiful the house was. It was also very large, especially by Japanese house standards. We went through an outer gate and into a meticulously maintained garden. I gestured around and mouthed “spider?”, which got me a withering look as Kameko mimicked my gesture and mouthed “gardener”. I grinned and shrugged, and then we went on inside.
The interior of the home put the outside to shame. It was spotless, but I wouldn’t have expected less from Kameko anyway, and it managed to be extremely clean and orderly without looking sterile or uninviting. I glanced around, simultaneously happy to be there and nervous, and finally I asked where it was.
Shrugging, she led me deeper into the house. “It’s hard to say. It keeps to itself mainly, and it won’t ever approach you, even though it doesn’t run if you approach it. I guess in theory, it would let you touch it, but I’ve never tried.” She gave out a short laugh. “This sounds so weird actually talking about it to another person.” She suddenly stopped and turned, giving me a quick hug. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
It wasn’t until that evening, after we had eaten dinner and settled in the living room to watch t.v. that I saw the yokai. I had caught motion out of the corner of my eye, and started to turn when the shape I saw froze me in place. If anything, Kameko had underestimated the thing’s size. It moved silently into the room and slowly moved up a back wall until it was perched against the high ceiling. I heard Kameko's voice near my ear, telling me to breathe, that it was ok. To go ahead and look at it, it was fine, it didn’t mind. With great effort, I turned my head more to see it more fully, taking in its dark form in the flickering of the light from the television. It reminded me somewhat a tarantula, but with large sets of black eyes, 3 smaller surrounding a larger, on both sides of its face. I could feel it glance down at me for a moment, but then it seemed to go back to watching t.v.
If it had been anyone else, I would have run away then. As it was, I spent the next day trying to convince her it wasn’t safe for her to stay, and she spent another two convincing me everything was fine. Ultimately, she won out. I stayed for another five days, had a great time, and by the end I actually waved by to the spider as it crept across the foyer the day I left to return home. It glanced at me again, gave a slight nod, and went about it’s strange business.
By the time I arrived home, the entire trip seemed surreal. I was also exhausted. I put down my suitcase, cleared out a spot on my messy bed, and fell asleep. I woke five hours later, and seeing the piles of clothes, the furry dishes in the sink, and the general messiness that I could only partially blame on preparing for the trip, I found myself wishing I had a ghost spider maid of my own. Shaking away the thought, and after a depressing look in the fridge, I went out for pizza.
When I got back, everything was pristine. I felt a combination of
wonder and terror. Had the spider somehow followed me here?
That’s when I saw my suitcase. It had been set against a wall and emptied, but I when I got closer I could still see a small bulge in the front pocket at the top. The pocket was partway unzipped, and I used the light on my phone to look inside. There was an egg in there. A strange, leathery black egg the size of a large chicken egg, its surface shiny except for intermittent dull flecks of green. Even at a distance I could see the egg had been opened from the inside and was empty.
I ran outside and called Kameko. She answered sleepily, but woke up fast when I told her what I had found. She said her yokai was still there, but she guessed it had a baby? She said she would try to find out what she could, but to be very careful, as not all yokai are the same, and some are very dangerous.
I debated getting a hotel room, but ended up going back in, promising myself I would run at the first sign of trouble. When I entered, I saw it. It was halfway up the wall of the front hall, looking at me with eight small eyes of dark blue, like sapphires. It was the size of a small kitten, and its legs and body were covered in what looked like white fur. It’s head was the strangest part, as aside from its eyes, it looked more like the head of a weasel than a spider. I saw it open its mouth in a toothy yawn before giving me a small warbling greeting.
It was almost cute. Which probably meant it would kill me and fill my body cavity with eggs. I regretted the thought and swallowed.
“Are we cool?” I felt like an idiot talking to a little monster on my wall, but it just blurted out. Then it nodded.
“Going to live here together and get along, not hurt each other?”
Another nod.
“Okay, cool I guess. We’ll try it out. Welcome home.” The creature gave what I decided was a happy warble and nod before moving away down the hall.
In the days since, everything has gone very well. It’s still bizarre, of course, but I’ve adjusted quickly, and had no real concerns until this morning, when I found the body in the guest room closet.
I had gone upstairs to get a raincoat out of the closet, but I had trouble opening the door. When I did, I saw a man’s body, wrapped neatly in silk webbing, sitting in the closet floor. I screamed, but before going into full panic mode I realized the man was wearing a black ski mask. I studied him closer to the extent I could see through the webs. He had dark clothes, and a long skinning knife was clenched in his right fist.
I recognized that knife. Chet used to carry it around in his truck the times we went out. I felt my stomach clench. I managed to slip the knife loose with some effort and used it to free enough webbing to remove the mask. Chet's face was hollowed and drawn, and I could see that his throat had been ripped out.
It’s hard for me to say how long he had been there, but I had seen enough to know what had happened. I grabbed my raincoat and went out. When I returned home that night, every trace of him was gone. For the tenth time I considered calling the police, but what could I say? In the end I sat down and turned on the television. It only took a minute to find a game show to watch.
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