Angela Ant's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

The log had a roof, a cup, and a meal. Angela crossed the field the next morning and climbed onto Summer Sun's palm to say so again, out loud, because saying it made it real. Summer Sun listened. Then Summer Sun looked at the field the way she did when something was still wrong. "You can eat in there a full day," Summer Sun said. "I still won't know you're in there." Angela's feelers dropped. She had not thought past the food. If a bird pinned her in the log, she could last. But Summer Sun would sit on the step and wait, and waiting would turn into hours, and hours would turn into Summer Sun deciding Angela was dead. "I need a signal," Angela said. "You need two," Summer Sun said. "Loud for close. Bright for far." Angela went back across the field that afternoon and asked the ladybug in the aphid roses. The ladybug did not ask why. She climbed down from her leaf and led Angela to a hollow acorn she had strung on a bit of stem, seeds sealed inside. She shook it. It cracked like a rock hitting wood. "Old baby toy," the ladybug said. "My children outgrew it. Loud enough for a girl on a step?" "Loud enough," Angela said. The ladybug pressed a second thing into Angela's grip. A round chip of mirror, edged in dried dew beads, light as a petal. "For the sky," she said. "Tilt it. The sun does the rest." Angela rolled the rattle across the field alone and carried the mirror on her back. She wedged both inside the log beside the water, the seed, and the pollen cake. She stepped out into the field and looked back at the log's dark mouth. A cup. A meal. A voice. A flash. She ran the second half and climbed onto Summer Sun's palm. "Rattle in the log," Angela said. "If I'm pinned close, I'll shake it. You'll hear it from the step." "I'll hear it." "Mirror in the log. If a bird sits on the roof and I can't shake, I'll flash the sun at you through the crack." Summer Sun turned her face toward the field and squinted. "Flash it now. Test." Angela ran back. She climbed inside the log, tilted the mirror, and caught the sun. A bright coin skipped across the dirt and landed on Summer Sun's dress. Summer Sun raised a hand. Angela ran home the long way, the log behind her, stocked now for the worst day. If she got pinned, Summer Sun would know within minutes. Summer Sun would come. She reached the anthill at dusk. Tracie was waiting at the tunnel mouth, feelers up. "The witch was at the fence again," Tracie said. "She watched you cross both times."