Grampy Fernside's Arc

Chapter 6 of 16

That evening Grampy walked the shed line before supper. The bed was ready. The seeds still sat on the top shelf in their basket, three nights from planting. He wanted a quiet check and a quiet walk. He did not get one. At the back corner of the shed, where the boards met the ground, he found a fresh hole. Loose soil fanned out from it. Pale roots stuck out of the walls where something had clawed them free. He knelt and put his hand flat on the dirt. Still warm from digging. He followed the tracks with his eyes. Small prints led from the hole across the bare ground toward the treeline. There a fallen log lay half-buried in moss, mushrooms crowding its bark, roots twisted out at one end. Behind the log the brush was pressed down in a narrow run. Something had been coming and going. Toward his shed. Toward his seeds. He found Togg on the doorsill, tail twitching. "You have a new neighbor," Grampy said. Togg flicked his ears. "Red one. Belly out to here. Been under the boards two nights. She wants the birdseed sack. She'll take the top shelf if she climbs." Grampy looked up at the shelf through the open door. Nineteen seeds. Three nights left. He could move the basket into the house. He could also lose Togg's deal, and the shed stayed open per their agreement. He chose a third way. He went inside and filled a tin cup from the birdseed sack. Then he walked to the fallen log at the treeline and poured a curved trail of seed along the moss, ending at a hollow between the roots. He carried a bundle of dry grass and moss from the shed's rag pile and tucked it deep in the hollow. A bed. A meal. Away from his shelf. He waited at the corner of the shed as the sun dropped. She came out of the brush low and slow, red coat dark in the dusk, sides round with young. She stopped at the first seed. Her nose worked. She followed the curve to the log and climbed into the hollow. She did not look back at the shed. Grampy watched until her tail disappeared into the nest bundle. Then he walked back and packed loose stones into the hole under the boards until it was full. He closed the shed door partway, the way Togg liked it. "She'll stay if we feed her," he told the chipmunk. "Cup a night until her kits come. Cheaper than nineteen seeds." Togg accepted this with a chirr and went inside. Grampy climbed to the top shelf and checked the basket. Dry. Rattling. Three nights to planting. The shed was safe again, and he had one more mouth to feed until the anniversary bloom went in the ground.