Grandpa shouted instructions. “Coat your swords with acid. Stick your sword inside a dead ant’s bottom.” Surprisingly, Sarrah was the first to understand and to do that. She stuck her sword deep into a dead ant and drew out its poisonous goo on her sword. Then, she did the bravest thing I have ever seen her do. She ran beside that spider, the one that tried to focus on the boys, and jabbed all two feet of that poison-tipped sword into the spider’s abdomen. The spider, now out of control, immediately started to spin like a hairy top. Sarrah somehow got caught in the flurry and failed to remove her sword from the spider’s abdomen. She hung on, though, but was being spun round and round inside the dancing circles of a whirling spider. She held onto the hilt of her sword and spun with the spider at least a half dozen times before the spider dropped dead to the floor. Sarrah bounced to her feet and ran back to Grandpa. By this time, the boys had made their escape from the prison of flashing legs and coated their own swords. Their intent was to make sure that the next spider met the same fate. Brian was there with his poison-tipped sword before that spider could react to the first one’s death. He pounded his acid-coated sword all the way into that spider’s body, pulled it out, and ducked for cover before the spider could spin even once. The monster died quickly. We, Grandpa, had just discovered a new weapon. The death tide was about to turn.
Thomas did the same thing with his sword. It seemed wrong to be stabbing the dead ants, but it worked. Sarrah reloaded her sword, and the three of them each attacked the nearest three spiders. Soon, the three hunters discovered just like the spiders did, that teamwork gave them the greatest advantage. The easiest spiders to kill were those already busy with other ants. Every time they stabbed poisoned swords deep into those spiders, the spiders died. In fact, they died rather quickly. We just needed to get some of the concentrated acid from a dead ant. Thomas suggested later that it might have worked so well because we put the formic acid deep into the spider. The ants just sprayed the acid on their victims, and that mostly caused confusion or pain rather than death.
We watched as the ants changed tactics. The ants began to understand the concept of the double team. They seemed to understand that the easiest spider to kill was one busy with another ant. While one ant was being attacked by a spider, five or six would attack that spider, then ten more would attack its partner. The ants learned quickly and soon realized that they might actually win.
The spiders, on the other hand, began to see that they were losing this battle, and they retreated from the ant hill in a big hurry. The five of us started chasing them, waving our swords and yelling like the things could actually hear us. I’m pretty sure that we attacked the spiders to chase them away. I’m certain also, that it would have occurred to us soon enough that the spiders knew the way out of the tunnels. If we had been thinking more clearly, we could have escaped by following the spiders, but the ants had that part figured out before we did. A wall of the red and black ants suddenly appeared between us and the retreating spiders. We ran right into that wall. The ants captured us, again. Each of us was locked tight in the jaws of a single ant, and as before, we were never harmed, but carried directly back to our chamber. Indeed, the ants were taking care of us, even protecting us, but still keeping us prisoner. I couldn’t help but wonder why. There had to be a reason.
*****
23. Back at the Chamber
The trip back to our chamber was strange in many ways. All five of us were along for the ride; there was nothing else we could do. Not one of us struggled or fought; we had already learned that there was no escaping the super strong jaws of the ants. We didn’t talk, so I don’t know what the others were thinking. Personally, I was lost in awe. What we had seen and done beginning the second we arrived in this world was way beyond truth, beyond even nightmares. I also realized during the ride that the trembling of the earth brought on by battle had stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
The wave-like rhythm of six walking legs takes a little getting used to. As we rocked closer to our chamber, it was easy to see that the ants had already begun their work; the chamber’s entrance was even smaller than it was before the quake. Apparently, the ants wanted to make it more difficult for us to escape. The ants that carried us lined up in single file to deposit us into this newly remodeled home. There was a definite logic to the way we were carried in, almost a ranking of sorts. Grandpa was first. Sarrah was second. Thomas was next, followed by Brian. I got the feeling that the ants realized that Grandpa was “the elder,” the one in charge. He had, after all, been here much longer. Then, they brought in the true warriors before they brought me in. I know this could have been a total accident, the result of random selection, but it sure didn’t seem like it.
After the ants had so delicately released us, they went through the same routine as before, which was, undoubtedly, a show of reverence and respect. The five ants that carried us here, along with the six that were doing repairs, all participated, and all bowed to our group of tiny humans. Their movements somehow signaled the entire mound. The walls began to rumble again, but this time it was more like a cat’s purr, more of a feeling than a sound. We could all sense the mashing of a million jaws vibrate the air; we could hear the sandpaper grit of two million rubbing antennae and the chanting clicks of every ant in the mound. I could sense that the ants were thanking us for helping, all of them at the same time.
The eleven ants that were in our chamber waited until the mound stopped purring. When it did, they left one by one in single file through the tiny hole that was now our door. Only two remained close at hand: the two that posted themselves outside the chamber door. The reality was that for all the good that we had done, for all of their reverence, and for all of the gratitude, we were still prisoners.
That was okay for awhile. Actually, I had hoped that things would slow down for awhile so we could finally have some peace. There hadn’t been any earthquakes or spiders or mice for the last few minutes. Clearly, we were not going to be allowed to go back home. I just hoped that we could sit long enough to talk. God knows that there was plenty to talk about. I had a huge list of questions. In fact, I had more questions than the others. While they were busy fighting, I was busy watching.
None of the others spoke up, so I began. “Did those six ants really protect us from those two spiders?”
Grandpa answered. He had actually begun to talk about this before. “I toldja that the ants have been taking care of me. They’ve never had the opportunity ta protect me before, but they’ve carried me without hurting me. They’ve fed me obviously nutritious food, and they’ve supplied me with clean water. They must be doing this for a reason that we don’t yet understand. Seeing as how these ants have gone ta such lengths ta keep us alive, I don’t think it’s too far of an imagination jump that they would also protect us.”
“So, all this fighting with the spiders has only begun since us kids arrived,” I commented, but my question was unheard.
Thomas cut me off. He didn’t exactly follow Grandpa’s line of thought, but what he said was almost more interesting and raised even more questions that we had no answers to.
“I know that ants are extremely intelligent in their way, but these ants are demonstrating a certain appreciation. They’ve thanked us for assisting them. They’ve displayed something akin to emotions or feelings. They bowed to us with reverence, and that was before we supported their fight against the spiders. Why would they do that, unless they somehow know who we are and why we’re here? Someone, please explain that to me.”
“They think you’re a god,” snickered Sarrah.
We all got a small chuckle out of that, but Brian brought that moment of humor to an end when he said, “No, but they might think that you are, Sarrah.”
Brian, normally the funny man in our group, was being quite sober. He stared straight at Sarrah without so much as a blink. His lips showed not the slightest beginnings of a smile. His look was concentrated; his words focused. Brian was totally serious, but none of us
had a clue what he was talking about. Sarrah moaned in a tiny, unbelieving whisper. “What?”
“Think about it,” said Brian. The ants had to line up single file to bring us in here. Grandpa was first. You, Sarrah, were second. Grandpa told us to use the dead ants as a source of poison. You were the first to do it. The ants saw that happen. It was the turning point of the battle. If Grandpa hadn’t shouted those instructions, an if you hadn’t followed them, all of us, including the ants, would be dead.”
I agreed with Brian. “I noticed that too, but I didn’t interpret it the way you did. Way to go, Brian! Did you also notice how I was the last one in the door?”
This time, it was Thomas’s turn to throw in the jab. “Gee. I wonder why that was, oh swordless one.”
“You took my sword away from me, Thomas! It’s not my fault I don’t have a sword!”
“Took it from you? It’s far more likely that you threw it at me! Hah!” he laughed. “Like you would have known how to use it, anyway.” Thomas had given me a good-natured jab, but you and I both know it was an open door to great argument. Grandpa knew it, too.
“Stop, you two,” demanded Grandpa, who was a little on edge. “We need ta be together. Even if your argument begins in fun, it will surely end in pain. All arguments, even those that were born in fun, can get out of hand way too easily. That’s exactly what we don’t need ta happen right now.”
Thomas helped Grandpa by changing the subject. “Who among you noticed the spiders’ strange behaviors?”
“Like the fact that their big eyes rotate inside themselves?” I asked.
“No,” said Thomas. “That would be perfectly normal. But, since when do spiders hunt in packs? That’s not all, either. Spiders are predators. They hunt for food. That’s not what was going on. These spiders were attempting to devastate this ant colony. For what purpose? Why kill for a reason other than defense or food?”
Brian was quick with his next statement, which was as thoughtful as any of Thomas’. “That’s a good question, Thomas. Supposedly, people fight wars because there’s somethin to win. What do the spiders have to win? For that matter, what do the ants have to win? An if they were fighting to win somethin, I wonder when they’ll be back to finish the job.”
“At least the ants let you keep your spears,” Grandpa pointed out.
Before anyone could answer, Brian nudged Grandpa lightly in the ribs. He pointed at Sarrah, who was sleeping so soundly that she was drooling. She looked quite comfortable, resting her head on Grandpa’s thigh. She had snuggled up there without anyone really noticing.
Just then, the two ant guards moved out of the way while two different ants delivered food and water to the chamber.
Brian quickly put some food and water aside for his sleeping sister, and then, just as quickly, he grabbed some for himself. “Grandpa,” he squeaked while picking up what looked like a springtail appendage with a big chunk of butt attached. “Help me,” he whimpered.
We all laughed hysterically. The memory of Brian holding that springtail butt in the air will stay with me forever. Watching him try to eat it was even more hilarious.
*****
24. The Huge Maple
Brian held that chunk of butt at eyeball level and went cross-eyed as he stared at it. When he sniffed it, his whole face convulsed. He looked at it once. Looked at it again. Stared at it for what must have been a full minute before he finally decided to close his eyes, hold his nose, and attack that bug butt with his teeth. Part of the show was Brian’s style of theatrics, but we all cracked up when he took a huge bite and immediately bolted for a dark recess on the far side of the chamber. Brian could turn any situation into a laugh. That’s exactly what we needed after what we had been through. If we had not all been together; if we had not found Grandpa; if we did not have Grandpa, or freedom, or home to fight for, I’m not sure what would have happened to us. As it was, I looked past my stack of cricket eyes toward the glowing goo that grew from our walls. I suddenly found comfort in the glowing darkness of that den that was also our prison. For just the shortest of moments, I wanted to cry. My eyes were wet; my lips quivered, but I held on. I remember thinking how strange that, up until now, none of us had shed even the first tear. Up until now, we weren’t thinking about home, or imprisonment, or giant ants, or even terrifying spiders. We were thinking about survival. We just felt good because we were together, and for this entire day, we had been depending on each other for our lives. I shifted my glance from Thomas, to Grandpa, to Brian, to the sleeping Sarrah. I discovered a new meaning, a new understanding in my life. I found that we were more than just relatives, more than brothers and sisters, more than cousins. I discovered that we were family. About that time, Brian shattered my thoughts. He had finally gotten down to the business of eating.
All of us except Grandpa watched while Brian chewed some of that springtail behind. It was truly comical. It took everything Brian had not to puke. In fact, he did puke during his first try. Believe it or not, an ant came in right away to clean away that mess. I won’t tell you how it did that. That was even more disgusting than eating dead bugs. Can you imagine it? Brian had crushed thousands of those bugs off his arm months earlier. They had attacked us all in an attempt to kill us. We watched the ants slice them up with their giant mouth parts. And now, Brian was eating one of those big, cheesy, bug butts for dinner. Brian broke the tail off and used it as a knife to slice off chunks of cheesy meat. He almost gagged again while chewing another bite of springtail, but he was determined. He actually forced this one down, but he sure wasn’t making it look easy. Brian’s chest heaved a time or two as if he were trying to vomit, or maybe, he was trying not to. His cheeks kept filling with air, or chewed up food, or something. He had to dam his mouth with the palms of both hands. If he hadn’t, he probably would have heaved that bite of bug meat all the way across our chamber. Finally, he managed to swallow the stuff. After Brian had choked it down, the rest of us stared at him with wide-eyed wonder. All of us expected to see him spew chunks into the nearest corner. Instead, Brian’s face contorted into some kind of nauseating Halloween mask, but he managed a devilish smile just before he managed to say to the whole group, “Mmmmmm. Tasteee! Like chicken. Really! Trust me!” We all laughed until we cried. We had grown so much closer as a family. We had been through so much, but in the deepest recess of our hearts, we feared there had to be more to come.
Grandpa wasn’t watching Brian or his newly discovered feasting antics because, I guess, he was hungry. Grandpa had no trouble eating anything that had been dumped onto the floor of our chamber. He had his choice of all the food he wanted. It was a sure bet that none of the rest of us would eat more than our share. There was a healthy supply of springtail butt, aphid honey, water, and two other kinds of smelly, dark meat that appeared to come off a cricket head or some other kind of head. I don’t even want to think about those thick, meaty sections with black and white hairs on them. Grandpa stuffed this raw bug meat into his mouth as willingly as he did Grandma’s lasagna. I thought I heard him mumble something about wishing we had brought ketchup, but I really couldn’t hear that well over his chewing. Between mouthfuls, Grandpa showed us the finer points of eating the springtail flesh and using the skinny part of the tail as a toothpick. I thought I was going to heave. Brian already had—again. Thomas would have nothing of it. It was bug meat, and it was raw! We all did fine with the aphid honey—as long as Grandpa didn’t tell us what it really was. The ants also brought us some water, and that, by itself, was wonderful. Through it all, Sarrah slept.
After we ate, relaxed, and laughed, we all slept. We slept until the ground shook, and that caused us to jump like we had all awakened from the same nightmare. As time went on, as we became more clearheaded, all of us realized that this was not the same kind of shaking that we experience right before the spiders attacked. This time, the ground vibrated rhythmically; the beat was countable, like a soft drum beat, a living mantra.
The ground pulsated aroun
d us; its vibrating softness conformed to the shape of our bodies as if the earth had decided to swallow us. We were unable to fight the moving earth or the increasing strength of the vibrations. Our bodies just sank deeper into the shifting ground that behaved like dry quicksand. I heard Sarrah scream something at Grandpa, but couldn’t make out exactly what she said because her mouth was full of dirt and dust. I heard Brian and Thomas: strained, incoherent grunts as they tried to fight seemingly unnatural, definitely invisible forces. They could barely stand, let alone run. The vibration quickly evolved into more than a feeling; we began to hear it, as well. The sound, like the dirt, engulfed us at first; it meandered, as if alive, and it soon drew our attention toward the entrance.
Turning our heads was all we could manage, but there, at the entrance, was the cause of our horror. Half a dozen ants were busy tearing our door away, enlarging it, making it practically burst open to the outside. Beyond that entrance, the tiny tunnel that once led to our chamber had been replaced by a vast assembly area. I can’t imagine the amount of work that reconstruction took, and the ants accomplished it in the time we had been asleep. The ants that had been assigned to guard us were gone. In their place were two columns of moving ants, all marching in exact cadence with what could best be described as military precision. When the columns stopped marching, the ground stopped vibrating. It was incredible: one more miracle to add to the rapidly growing list.
Grandpa's Portal Page 9
