Baby Acorn's Arc

Chapter 5 of 11

Papa Acorn stopped taking extra shifts after two weeks. He came home with paint on his shirt and sawdust in his fur, but he wouldn't talk about the work or how much they'd saved. Mama Acorn started going to the railing again at sunset, standing close to the edge where the third post still held. Baby Acorn carried the old ladder from the shed that morning, dragging it across the deck to where the coiled rope sat near the broken sections. If the third post gave way, he could throw the rope or push the ladder across. He could reach her before she fell. He practiced twice, timing how fast he could move from the center of the deck to the far corner where she always stood. Six seconds. Maybe five if he ran. Mama Acorn stepped onto the deck that evening and walked straight to her sunset spot. Baby Acorn positioned himself two steps behind her, the rope in his hands. She leaned against the rail, and the third post cracked with a sound like splitting ice. The timber railing tilted outward, taking Mama Acorn with it. Baby Acorn threw the rope, but it fell short by three feet. He grabbed the ladder and shoved it forward, but the broken rungs caught on the deck boards. Mama Acorn's arms windmilled as the post gave way completely. Papa Acorn appeared from inside and lunged past Baby Acorn, catching Mama Acorn's wrist as the railing collapsed into the leaves below. He pulled her back onto solid deck and they both fell hard, breathing in gasps. Baby Acorn stood frozen, the useless ladder at his feet, the rope coiled in his hands. He had watched. He had prepared. He had failed anyway. Papa Acorn looked at him with something worse than anger—with understanding that no child should have to carry this weight. "We're leaving tomorrow," Papa Acorn said, still holding Mama Acorn. "No more waiting."