Ant's Arc

Chapter 4 of 12

Ant sat down by the roadside and stared at the pile of books. The creature had wanted him to carry something else. He did not know what, but now he thought maybe it was these. Heavy thick volumes full of pressed leaves and faded pages. Someone had carried them once. Maybe many people had. Maybe they all said yes. He stood and walked closer. A canvas bag lay nearby, its straps torn and empty. The books had spilled from it long ago. He crouched and opened one. Every page showed a different leaf pressed flat, with notes written beneath in faded ink. Some pages had two leaves. Some had five. One had so many the spine would not close. Ant shut the book and stepped back. These people had not just said yes once. They had said yes again and again. The trail wound past the books toward a gray shed standing alone among the hills. Dried leaves covered the path, bright orange and gold, as if someone had walked this way many times and left pieces behind. Ant followed the trail to the shed. The door hung open. Inside, bundles of leaves sat stacked against the walls, tied with string. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. All abandoned. Ant turned and walked away from the shed. He did not look back. The creature's question made sense now. It had not been offering knowledge. It had been offering a place to belong. A place where everyone carried more than one leaf, where his burden would not be strange or lonely. But this was not relief. This was surrender. He kept walking, the single leaf still on his back, and he did not feel ashamed of it anymore.