A little sketch in the tradition of Watership Down, A Bug’s Life and other tales from a non-human viewpoint.
I was born with a memory-song of a world beyond this
one: limitless, bright. So different from the dark warm shelter that I have
always known. I dream of a great destiny that awaits me and all our brood. An
arduous trek full of deadly perils…a journey to high groves of joy. One day,
all of our kind will gather and sing!
“Hey, Sheila, I hear on TV there’s gonna be an insect invasion--those 17-year cicadas are set to hatch. ‘Brood X’, they call ‘em. There'll be millions of 'em crawlin' from their holes in the ground. Sounds like a horror flick, don’t it!”
“Sure does. Oh, Jack, what are we gonna do? I hate bugs!”
The day comes at last: the Day of Emergence. Arise,
brothers, sisters, cousins, kin! For all our lives we have awaited this day.
How patiently we waited, dreaming of wonders we’ve never seen: bright sun! Tall
trees! The glory of flight…the ecstasy of love!
“Ugh, look at ‘em all! I"m scared to go outside. What if they fly into my hair!”
“Now calm down, Sheila darling. You just let Jack-boy take care of everything. Now c’mon, put down that curling iron and gimme a kiss…”
Dig out of the earth in the dark of night. We take our first breath of clear, outdoors air. But have a care: many will perish before even this night is out. I struggle to emerge from my shell and become a new creature. Bright red eyes and gold striped belly, shimmering wings edged with orange--festive colors for the time of celebration. My brave brothers and sisters, dry your wings…climb and fly!
“Sheila, I hope you brought the barbecue sauce and hamburger and ribs. I’ll set out the deck furniture.”
“Sure thing, Jack. Ooh, I can’t wait to get in your hot tub! Wait'll you see my new swimsuit!”
The sun scorches my eyes. This will be no easy climb. We have left safety and comfort behind us for a world of a thousand perils. Enemies gather in swarms—hungry foes with teeth and talons and claws—to feast on our flesh. They attack my siblings with stingers, beaks and hungry jaws. Oh, today thousands die around me to fill the bellies of every creature. But don’t lose heart… there is no turning back. Though we die by thousands, still those who survive struggle toward their destiny: the leafy Heights, the Groves of Song, and the love of a fairest Lady!
“Ooh--look at those huge, disgusting bugs! Must be thousands of ‘em. Makes my skin crawl. They're gonna ruin our party!”
“No they won’t, Sheila. I’ve got some poison here that’ll handle any bug. Just relax and work on your tan. Jack’ll take care of everything for ya.”
Today is a day of struggle and death. Gone is the peace and safety of our childhood. I see my comrades fall to every catastrophe. Birds and dogs and cats ate their fill of us till they could eat no more. Yet my birth memory tells of a worse predator: a dreadful monster that looms over all the earth, filling it with dangers unimaginable…
“Ugly little devils, aren’t they? And they’re all lookin’ for One Thing—if ya know what I mean!” Jack leers, and Sheila blushes. “But you know what, I hear they’re pretty good eating, fried up with barbecue sauce. C’mon, folks, who wants to try one?”
A monster that kills not for hunger but for amusement: pulling off wings and legs to watch us struggle. But even these gross creatures cannot quench our all-consuming determination: we shall reach the High Groves--
"Ahh…GOT’im! Hand me that barbecue sauce, babe. I’ll toss ‘im on the grill—oops! Damn, little bugger got away.”
I wrench out of the killer’s grip. Must not give in to fear…I will not weaken. At last, I reach the leafy bower of our destination: the High Groves of Song. This is the day our brood has dreamed of since our hatching! Now is the time to sing with joy! Sing all day… fill your body with song! Let the call of celebration pass through you and fill the forest and rise to the sky. Wheeee-oh! Brothers all together, sing to bring the lovely ladies! Come, lovely ladies, winsome Brood-mamas, come and visit us, choose who will be yours…”
“Just listen to that
hellish racket they make. Can’t hear myself think! I knew we shoulda had our
party at the VFW hall instead. Oh, when will this plague be over?”
“Aw,
c'mon, Sheila! You gonna get in
that hot tub or not? I wanna see your new swimsuit.”
“I'm
scared, Joe. What if one of those horrible bugs lands on me? Get your sprayer and get rid of
them... please!”
I glimpse her among the leaves, her wings flashing in the sun...there she flies, the egg-bearing queen of my dreams. I call to her. “Wheeeee-oh! Lovely shining one, hear my song, come to me, to me! I love you, love you, love youuuuu….!”
“Okay, babe, calm down. I got my
sprayer ready. It’s that stuff I used on the killer bees last year. Better not
breathe any of this, and get the dogs inside.”
My song pleases her. She turns and gazes at me, flicking her wings in admiration. Saying ‘come , strong singer, bright-eyed high flyer--share an embrace and we’ll make eggs, yes, we’ll hatch lots of babies…’ I fly alongside the lovely one. Sooo beautiful… Your bright eyes gaze at me, your shining wings flash…ahhh. We touch…we move closer… and at last we lie down together…
“Okay, Sheila darlin'
don't worry--Jack ain’t
takin’ no crap from a bunch of horny bugs.” Jack’s killed lots worse things.
He’s hunted deer, moose, bear. And he likes to boast about it to his Sheila.
Chicks dig that kinda stuff. “Jack'll protect ya. All right you little buggers. Take this!”
--then out of nowhere a spray of poison comes from below. Acid—burning eyes—covering wings. My mate, heavy with eggs, barely escapes…she clings to a leaf. Dozens of my brothers fall…I grab onto a branch…
“Great job! But there’s
still lots left. Kill them all, Joe. Keep spraying!”
…I struggle to hold on. Soon my lady will fall to her doom. Save her! Protect our eggs! I turn and face the death rain. My claws loose from the branch…I struggle to make a last flight: straight at the killer giant who threatens the Brood—
“Aagh! One of ‘em flew
in my face!”
“Jack, watch where you’re
sprayin’ that stuff! You’re getting it in the food!”
“I got it all over myself! It got in my eye…my lungs. I think I’m gonna be sick!”
Safe…she is safe. I have stopped the killer…that most dangerous killer of the brothers and sisters and the brood mothers. I fall to the ground… I lie twitching. The light fades…my song is done. But I shall live on, for my lady will nestle her eggs within the branch, and one day they will hatch…
“Can’t breathe! Sheila, …call an ambulance! My heart…”
And in the long darkness the hatchlings will dream the memory-tale: love and death in the High Groves of Song.
email me at greenfeather1@hotmail.com