Excerpt from Spider Love Song and Other Stories by Nancy Au, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

The sun was high in the sky, reflecting off the pond filled with curds of algae. May felt drowsy and overheated. "Look, I've never had a pet before. And there's nothing appealing about having a bird that's missing body parts. Can you blame me? And what about diseases? Don't birds have bird diseases? What if you get sick?"

"I won't get sick."

"You don't know how to take care of anything," said May.

"Just picture it. You and I would come home from work, and Louise would waddle to the front door, nip at our pant legs, hop up on the hall tree, beat her wings, and squawk and wiggle her feathery tail until we pet her little bald spot. We'd be a family!"

"You kill cactuses. If I weren't around, you'd probably kill our rock garden."

"You know," Lai said, squinting into the glare, "I dreamed last night I was right here ... and I was looking for something ... and the pond was melted butter, and full of breadcrumbs. Crumbs crumbs crumbs. Bread all over the place. Soggy, salty, buttery. And I think, now, maybe I was looking for our duck."

"Mmmmm, sounds good. Now I want to go home and eat something greasy."

"Stop it. Anyway, I dreamed that I went in the pond, and I thought it would be warm but it was cold. Cold. And I couldn't see through the yellow ..."

"You are not its mom," said May.

"And I saw ..."

"You don't know how to take care of a duck," said May.

"I saw you. Underwater. I wanted you to climb up. But you were ... down deep. Down and in the dark, and you failed."

"Failed?"

"I don't know." Lai dug her sharp thumbnail into the pad of her pointing finger, a gesture that often meant she was struggling to find the right words. "I just ... I just got this sense that you failed."

"I'm not sorry that I don't want a duck."

"You should be. Is taking care of a duck so difficult?"

"It's more than just bread crumbs, Lai. It's taking time off work for visits to the vet. It's duck-proofing our entire house. You just go through life jumping from one thing to the next. First, it's cooking classes. But you still don't even make your own lunch!" May pointed to the partially eaten bird mattress in the cooler. "Then, viola lessons, but you didn't like tuning your own instrument. Then, it's moving to Ireland—but you hate flying! Seven years of this ... of us. I'm the longest term anything you've ever had. You take this duck in, but who's going to be caring for it in two months?"

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not the person who doesn't travel because I'm afraid I'll hate my life when I return home."

"This isn't about me."

"You don't even have siblings," said Lai. "All you had was a cat."

"I trusted my cat. You can't teach a duck to bury its own poop."

"You don't know love 'til you have a duck."

"I don't know love because I don't have siblings?" responded May, trying to control the heat rising in her cheeks. "I feel love. I feel it every time I hug my friends, or you."

"I didn't mean that you don't know love. I just mean ..."

"I take care of you. I listen to you. I comfort you."

"Louise needs us, and you can't bend."

"Are you telling me that I don't know love because I don't give a shit about this duck? Do you ever listen to yourself? What do you really want? Why do you need this duck?"

"I just do! I just want something more." Lai threw her hands in the air.

"I don't need anything more. My life is full. Full."


May was too hot to walk anywhere. She looked around for the ice cream vendor that circled the park on sweltering days. She wanted a decadent It's-It ice cream sandwich, or a slice of frozen cheesecake, something she'd regret, to keep her mind off what Lai had said. She wanted desperately to dip her feet in the water, despite being disgusted by its coating of lime-green algae. And though she was certain that at least two feet of the pond's depth was a thick underwater carpet of bird shit, she started to take off her shoes. As she kicked off her second sandal, she spotted a figure in green walking with purpose toward them.

Excerpted from Spider Love Song and Other Stories by Nancy Au. Copyright © 2019 by Nancy Au. Excerpted by permission of Acre Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.