Angela Ant's Arc

Chapter 6 of 10

The next morning, Angela stood at the mouth of the anthill with a plan and a problem. The route worked. She had proved it. But the log had been empty when the magpie chased her in. No water. No place to sit. If a second bird came and pinned her longer, she would leave the log weaker than she entered it. She could not run the second leg on shaking legs. She needed to stock the log before she needed it. She went back into the tunnels and found a water pod the foragers kept for long trips, a smooth bead of water sealed shut with sap. She rolled it out into the dirt. It was heavier than she was. She pushed it with her head and front legs, one shove at a time, across the open field. She did not look at the sky. Looking would not help. She counted shoves instead. At forty she stopped to breathe. At eighty the log threw its shadow across her. She rolled the pod up the lip of bark and into the dark slot. Inside, the log smelled the same as before. Moss. Old rain. She pushed the pod against the far wall where the timber curved down and pinned it in place with a wedge of bark. It would not roll. It would not crack in the sun. She pressed her feelers to the sap seal. Still tight. She rested. Her legs stopped shaking sooner than last time. Then she ran the second half to the cottage step. Summer Sun was already kneeling. She set her palm down without a word and Angela climbed on. "You're early," Summer Sun said. "I stocked the log." "Stocked it with what." "Water. Sealed in sap. Enough for one rest. Maybe two." Summer Sun looked out at the field. The log sat small and brown in the middle of the dirt. Her eyes stayed on it a long moment. "Good," she said. "Now the middle has a roof and a cup." "I can carry more. Bark for a seat. A crumb of sugar." "One trip at a time." Summer Sun's thumb touched the yellow sash. "Don't load the log in one morning. Birds notice a pattern." Angela sat down. She had not thought of that. A single ant crossing was one thing. An ant crossing back and forth with cargo was another. The sky learned. "Then I bring one thing each trip," she said. "One thing. And you tell me what's in there. So I know what you have if you don't come out." Angela looked up. Summer Sun's face was flat and calm, the way it always was when the words were heavy. "Water pod. Far wall. Wedged." "Water pod. Far wall. Wedged," Summer Sun said back. The log had a cup in it now. The road between the hill and the cottage had a middle that could hold her a little longer. The sky was still the sky. But Angela had bought herself time inside the wood, and Summer Sun knew where to look for her.