Saturday, April 19, 2008

Bobby

Bobby had always been warned about this. It was one of the first stories he can remember his mother telling him. Late at night, while trying to sleep, the drunken sounds of the colony elders could be heard through the thinning dirt walls. He would lay up for hours struggling to listen to their tales of bravery, death and survival. Mr. Johnson, the oldest and most decorated soldier could be heard almost perfectly. “I remember it like it was yesterday”, he would loudly grunt for the other eager men to hear. “To this very day I don’t know how I survived. But I did. And, as I stand here before you now, I can tell you quite honestly that no one should ever have to experience what I and countless others have gone through.” A tiny tear pooled at the bottom of one of his eyes, until it finally dropped to the floor. The other men could only look on with ah and respect.

So how was it that Bobby found himself in the exact same predicament? He had followed all the rules. He had heeded his mothers’ parental advice, or so he thought. “Don’t lag behind. Don’t show off. Work hard. And above all else, stay away from the boy!” Where did he go wrong? What missteps had his young, strong legs taken? He was being pulled every which way. It hurt. It hurt a lot. The two tiny metal tweezers the enemy held in each hand held tightly onto Bobby’s limbs. Bobby had seen this enemy before. The 5-year old little boy holding Bobby captive lived in a house an hours’ journey away. Bobby had been warned of the enemy’s previous attacks toward the colony. How, with one stomp from his size two, he had eliminated entire families. Also, there was the one time he had poured an entire glass of Sprite on the workers, ruining their entire day. Bobby had learned to fear the enemy with every fiber of his being. And now here he was, his two front arms being pulled one way and his hind legs being pulled another. How long could this torture last? Eventually something had to give. Either the strain on his arms would pull them right off, or his legs would go. He was sure of it. He was positive that, at the very least, he would be marred for life, if not killed. “It can’t end this way,” thought Bobby. The pulling. The strain. The twisting. He could hardly stand it. It was most definitely going to be one or the other. Any moment now it’s over!

And then . . . silence. Time seemed to stop for Bobby. No sound. No smells. No time. His feelers were feeling, but felt nothing. For a fleeting moment he thought he might be dead. “Am I dead?” said Bobby aloud. “No, I’m not dead.” And indeed he wasn’t. It was in that moment that Bobby knew there was a choice to be made. Not a choice necessarily made by him, but a choice nonetheless. Very shortly, either he was going to lose his arms or his legs. So, as time stood still, Bobby wondered which it would be. If given the option, which would he choose? Bobby thought.

Bobby’s short-lived life as an ant had been filled with a myriad of memories. True he had only been alive for a little more than 2 weeks now, but he had already lived a lifetime. Bobby loved his life. He loved his thousands of friends and his entire family. “Being an ant was awesome,” Bobby thought. And now, given the possibility of losing his limbs, Bobby was at a loss. As everybody knows, ants need their limbs. Bobby was proud of the strong legs that made him run faster than all of his other friends. He was even more proud of the muscular arms that helped him carry more dirt than anyone else in his class at school. How could he choose which would go?

He obviously needed his mighty legs. After all he was an ant and “we ants are runners” his mom always told him. He would be lost without them. Forget working with his friends during the day. Whoever has heard on an ant with no legs? He’d be the laughing stock of the colony. Bobby used to make two or three times as many trips from ant hill to ant hill as his buddies did. He was fast, and everybody knew it. In fact, some of the elders had taken note of Bobby’s incredible speed. Even Mr. Johnson had been over heard saying, “That boy has potential to outshine even me someday.” Bobby had heard him saying it one night as he lay awake in his bed. It brought a huge, proud smile to his face. If he lost his hind legs, that would surely slow him down. The thought of not being a quick little ant put pits in his stomachs.

Bobby thought about all the times he would play with his friends. It was generally known that he was a prankster. His pals always had to be on the lookout. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of one of Bobby’s jokes. Bobby’s favorite prank to pull on his friends took place while they worked during the day. Because Bobby was so fast he would zoom past the other ants at lightning speed, kicking up the earth behind him. They would have to duck to get out of the way of the flying dirt. He could remember one time in particular. Without looking he started to fling dirt behind him as he ran. He was running as fast as he could without a care in the world. He wasn’t looking where he was going and he ran right past a gathering of the colony elders covering them in mounds of dirt. Bobby stopped instantly realizing what he had done. An ant was never, ever permitted to show disrespect to the older ants. He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around. Behind him he saw three men covered in dirt from head to toe. “Oh no, what have I done,” he thought. Work along the ant trail ceased as everyone’s focus turned onto the spectacle. The men started to dust themselves off, cursing under their breaths. It was then that Bobby realized the magnitude of his mistake. The last ant to dust himself off was none other than Mr. Johnson. Bobby swallowed hard. He was a goner for sure. Mr. Johnson slowly looked left, then to the right. After he was sure he had the attention on everyone, he looked Bobby straight in the eye, gave a slight grin, then a wink, and went on with his business. That instant, Bobby became a hero. That exchange between old man and young boy sent Bobby into a whole new level of anthood. All because of his strong legs. And now, in this moment, he could lose them forever.

But he could just as easily lose his arms. His arms that carried all the dirt, leaves and other debris. “What good would I be without being able to carry things,” Bobby wondered. He used his arms everyday. He would wipe his eyes when he woke up in the morning. He would fix his antenna when they fell in his face. After a long hard day working, he would come home to his friends and give everyone high fives, congratulating each on a fine day’s work. Without arms he couldn’t do this. Also he would have to eat using only his mouth. His mother would never allow this. His legs were important, but it was the little things in life that he would not be able to do if he lost his arms. No more high fives. No more hand shakes. No more arm wrestling with the other boys. (He was this close to beating the strongest kid in class) No more blowing kisses to his sweetheart. No more hugs. He loved his family and friends so much. If he couldn’t hug them it would destroy him. His mother's arms held him when he felt sick, or just when he was tired, and he would hug her back. Not any more. The thought made Bobby wail with fear inside.

Bobby decided it was the little things he would miss most. If given the choice, he would choose to lose his legs. The legs that propelled him past his friends and impressed the “higher ups”. But the mere thought of not hugging his family tore him apart. He would never be able to touch anything or anyone ever again. Bobby started to cry. He cried harder and bigger tears than he ever had before.

Back to the moment. Bobby was being pulled and stretched. Through the struggle, for an instant he was able to look down toward the ground. And there, below him, he saw the most glorious sight he had ever seen. Standing on the ground under him was his entire family. There was his mom and his dad. He could easily see all his brothers and sisters. Just behind his parents he saw Mr. Johnson. They were all screaming in terror. “Let him go you monster,” they yelled with passion, tears streaming down. The looks on their faces of love and admiration overwhelmed Bobby. He couldn’t stand the thought of not touching them. This was the moment. The decisions he made right now would dictate the rest of his entire life. Bobby tugged his legs. He could feel the force on his limbs. “Please not my arms!” Bobby screamed. At that moment, the clouds, which had been threatening all day, opened up. An enormous clap of thunder boomed, accompanied by drops of rain. “How fitting,” Bobby thought. Bobby looked up at the enemy. The boy was becoming soaked from the falling rain. It was like something out of a movie. It was the final battle between good and evil occurring in the middle of a storm. The rain fell harder now. The enemy’s mother could be heard calling the boy to come inside. A look of disappointment filled the boys face. So, at that moment of desperation, the boy had no choice but to abandon his torture. He dropped the tweezers incarcerating Bobby and ran to his home. Bobby fell to the Earth. Just as the Sprite that the boy had dropped on the workers ruined their day, the rain falling on the boy had ruined his. Instantly, Bobby was surrounded by the other ants. Hugs from his family bombarded him. He looked down to see that he had been spared of losing any limbs whatsoever. He had lived to tell the tale of survival. He felt as he had never felt before. Through the hugs and kisses from his family he quickly caught a glimpse of Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson, the oldest and wisest of the colony. The ant that Bobby had looked up to his entire two weeks of life. Bobby didn’t know what he would find in Mr. Johnson’s eyes. Mr. Johnson could say nothing, nothing at all. He just stared at Bobby, gave him a grin and a wink, and went on with his business.

4 comments:

Knight said...

This comes off as the most disturbing children's story ever. I love it.

Farmer*swife a/k/a Glass_Half_Full said...

Great story! How come you quit writing over here?

I came to lurk, 'cuz it's Delurking day. I'm here via knight. She's awesome!

Kay, I delurked.

Happy Monday!

Knight said...

See, Farmer*swife is Delurking and would like you to write more. I know you have stories.

Tall Lanky Jew said...

Mmmmm. I still really like this story. I think I'm going to start writing here again :)