Category: Isaac’s Adventures Underground

Knowing that the queen was behind him listening, Isaac felt his mind start racing. Would she feel insulted that he thought she was scary?   He didn’t want to be dragged away by the guards. This time it might not be as easy to escape. What could he say to fix this?

“I’ve never met someone as important as she is,” he said quickly. “I’m not really sure how I should act.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the butterfly said.

“Who is this?” the queen asked sharply. “And why is she staring at me?”

“I’m a butterfly,” the butterfly said.

The guards rushed past Isaac and surrounded the butterfly. “She has extra eyes,” one of the guards said, examining the eyespots on the wings. “They’re really big.”

“Perhaps she’s here to spy on us,” another guard said.

“I can’t see with them,” the butterfly said.   “They’re just for show.”

“Showing what?” the first guard asked.

“For decoration,” the butterfly said.

“I thought you said they were for show,” the second guard said. “But now you say they’re for decoration.”

“Mighty suspicious.” The first guard turned and looked at Isaac. “And you, you were here with her, weren’t you? Perhaps you’re a spy too.”

“He did show up out of nowhere,” the second guard said. “Maybe he’s the one that brought the wind that spoiled the picnic.”

“I shared my baseball with you,” Isaac said.

“He did do that,” the first guard said. They turned and looked at the butterfly again.   “So, what do you have to say for yourself?”

The butterfly flapped her wings and looked thoughtful. “One morning, the warm sun came up and pop! –I hatched out of my egg onto a large green leaf. I was a tiny, and very hungry caterpillar. I started to look for some food.”

“I thought you said you were a butterfly,” the second guard said.

“I am. I just used to be a caterpillar.”

“Mighty suspicious. And you didn’t answer my question.”

The butterfly shrugged. “Then maybe you asked the wrong question.”

The queen started tapping her foot. “This is taking too long,” she said.

Isaac coughed a little, to catch everyone’s attention. “I think she knows Miss Muffet.   Maybe Miss Muffet can tell us what you need to know.”

“Miss Muffet will be bringing the honeydew barrels soon. Very well.” She turned and began walking away. “Guards, escort the butterfly to the game and keep an eye on her,” she called over her shoulder. “And bring the baseball.”

The first guard looked at the butterfly. “Am I keeping an eye on her if her eyes outnumber my eyes? Or is she keeping an eye on me?   Wouldn’t that just be her spying again?”

The second guard thought for a moment and then counted on her fingers. “If we both keep an eye on her, then I think we’re even. If we find someone else, then we’re ahead.”

“That is where the eyes go,” the first guard said.   “Come along butterfly, formerly known as caterpillar. We need to find someone to help us keep an eye on you.”

The butterfly launched into the air and started to fly in the direction of the baseball game. The guards scrambled to keep up. “Hey, that’s not fair. We’re supposed to be watching you. You didn’t say you could fly,” one of the guards yelled.

“Bring the baseball,” the other growled at Isaac as they ran past.

Isaac picked up the baseball and followed them back over the hill.   “Throw it over here,” several ants called. He tossed it towards the pitcher, who had to take a step forward to catch it. Then the queen stepped up to bat and the game began again.

Luckily, this time the ball landed close enough to the crowd that someone else ran for it and tossed it to the pitcher. Isaac looked for the butterfly. She was fluttering over the crowd watching the game. A group of guards were staring at her without blinking.

Isaac turned to an ant standing nearby. “What inning is this?” he asked.

“Who knows,” the ant said. “I don’t think anyone is keeping track.”

If no one kept track, how would they know when the game was over? Isaac started to worry that the game would never end. If the game never ended, would he ever get home?

After twenty minutes, Isaac decided that maybe he wasn’t a very good teacher. Or maybe the ants weren’t very good at playing baseball.   He looked around the field at the chaos and sighed.

At first, he’d been disappointed not to be picked for a team. However, seeing the number of ants dragged away by guards or injured, he was happy to fade into the background a bit. Besides, it wasn’t like they were playing real baseball. They weren’t following the rules at all.

The three ants chosen as bases were running back and forth listening to conflicting directions from the ants around them.   Initially, the queen ordered anyone at bat for the opposing team to not hit the ball.

One poor ant, when the pitcher managed to throw the ball directly at her bat and get a hit, ran in the opposite direction of the bases. Then, the queen remembered that they could tag her out. She sent her teammates to capture the runner.

The runner disappeared under a pile of determined ants.   The queen applauded, and declared that after that, everyone must get a hit on their turn at bat. Several players had to be replaced when they struck out and were dragged away by the guards.

Others were replaced when they staggered around, dizzy, after being at the bottom of an antpile. It seemed like there was a never-ending supply of new players. The crowd around the edges of the game seemed to keep growing. Where were all the ants coming from? Did they live nearby? How many ants lived in an ant colony?

The queen always stole all the bases when it was her turn at bat. Isaac was certain that none of the other ants dared to tag her out. She was much larger than the other ants, so it was only a few steps between the bases for her anyway, even if they hadn’t been scooting closer to make it easier for her. She could hit the ball much further away, too.

For some reason, it was always Isaac’s job to fetch the ball when the queen had knocked it into the grassy hills again. She would hit the ball and walk between the bases, and everyone would stand and cheer until Isaac returned with the ball, and they could start the game again.

The queen seemed to be up at bat more often than her teammates. Isaac decided not to say anything about that. He sighed again as the ball sailed over the hills and far away. He left the cheering crowd behind and trudged over the hill.

It wasn’t always easy to find the little baseball in the tall grass.   Sometimes, he could tell that there was a patch of flattened grass where it landed. Other times it landed where the grass was thinner and he could see it.   This time, he had no idea where it went. So he walked in little spirals around the general path he thought the ball took.

This time, it seemed impossible to find. Was the cheering growing fainter? He hoped that the queen wouldn’t decide he was taking too long and order the guards to drag him away.

He looked around again. Finding a lost baseball in a field of tall grass seemed hopeless.   Isaac considered walking away and continuing his search for the way home. But it wasn’t his baseball. It was Jimmy’s. He’d like to bring it back with him. Looking for it got him into this mess after all.

Besides, the queen might know the way home. He couldn’t leave without asking her. He had no idea which way to go. He could end up wandering around here forever.   Wherever here was.

He pushed some more grass out of the way. A giant eye looked back at him. Isaac yelped and jumped back. A familiar voice chuckled. It was the butterfly.

“Did I scare you?” she asked.

“No,” Isaac said. “I was just surprised. That’s all.”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for my baseball. It’s little and white and round…”

The butterfly held up the baseball. “And nearly hit me on the head.”

“Thank you for finding it,” Isaac said. “I don’t know what the queen would have done if I couldn’t find it.”

“Does the queen scare you?” the butterfly asked.

“Maybe,” Isaac said. A large shadow fell around him and the air seemed colder. Somehow he knew that the queen was standing behind him, listening.

An enormous ant marched over the top of the hill, surrounded by smaller ants the size of the ants holding down the picnic blanket. The procession walked up to the edge of the blanket and paused.

Isaac recognized the guard ants by the sticks they carried. The others all seemed to be workers of some kind. Or maybe they were the royal court. Did ants have a royal court? Some of the ants were carrying leaves and seeds.

The enormous ant stepped forward and tapped her foot impatiently.   “Well?” she said. “Are you going to greet your queen?”

The ants on the blanket bowed. “We can’t,” one of the ants said with a quavering voice. “We can’t move.”

“And why not?” the queen asked.

“If we move, the blanket will fly away.”

At that moment, the wind blew through, and the free corner of the blanket slapped forwards and hit the queen right in the middle of her belly. The queen swayed backwards. The entire procession gasped. Several ants darted forward to steady the queen. The ants on the blanket dived at the corner to secure it, leaving their corners free to bat at the queen as the wind continued to blow.

Guard ants stepped forward and used the sticks they were carrying to knock away the flapping blanket corners. Finally the wind died down again. Isaac stepped off his corner of the blanket and stepped back, hoping no one would notice him. The two ants left in the middle of the blanket pushed away the corners of the blanket and stood up.

They looked around for a second, and then fell flat on their faces.   Both of them began to talk at once.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“There just weren’t enough of us.”

“We didn’t expect the wind to be so strong.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Silence,” the queen said sharply. She turned to the guards. “Take them away. And take the blanket too.   It’s obviously not the right weather for a picnic.”

The guards dragged away the sobbing ants and the blanket. A worker ant approached the queen and bowed. “My queen, the food we’ve prepared…”

“Take it all back inside. We can eat later.”

The ant bowed again. “Of course.   It will be done. Miss Muffet will be coming soon with the honeydew barrels.”

The queen sighed. “She can leave them here. They won’t blow away in the wind anyway.” She looked around at the meadow. “What is there to do out here besides picnic?”

Some of the ants left, carrying away the leaves and seeds. “We could play hide and seek?” A worker ant suggested.

“This isn’t the forest. There’s nowhere to hide,” another said. “We should play tag.”

“That didn’t go so well last time,” someone said. There was a long silence.

The queen turned and looked at Isaac. She was so much bigger than the other ants. He hoped she was a vegetarian ant. There was no way he could outrun her, he had no idea where he was, and the door was gone.

His mother once told him that the trick to safely meeting a new dog was to appear confident, because if you seemed afraid, they’d decide it was okay to chase you. It might be the same with enormous ants. He straightened his shoulders and held up his head. Then he bowed, just in case.

“Who are you?” the queen asked. “What are you doing here?”

“My name is Isaac, and I’m lost. The door said Come In, so I did, but now the door is gone.”

“Hmmmm.” The queen leaned a little closer and pointed at him. “Do you know any games we could play out here?”

Isaac’s mind went blank. In desperation, he patted his pockets. He felt the baseball. “I have an idea,” he said. “Have you ever played baseball?”

“No,” the queen said.

“Then I’d be happy to teach you all how to play.”   He took the baseball out of his pocket.   “This is a baseball. It’s not edible so don’t eat it. Mostly you throw it and catch it and use sticks to hit it. Let me explain the rules,” he said.

When Isaac was finally small enough to go inside the little door, he opened it and peeked inside. A carpet of clover led from the door to the edge of a meadow. Green grass covered gently rolling hills. He stepped through the doorway.

It was warm outside, but a brisk breeze blew through, making it a little chilly. The grass rippled as the wind passed by, looking like water. If he squinted a bit, he could imagine he was standing at the edge of a bright green lake. Was this another dimension?

He turned to look back through the doorway, but it was gone. The green grass rolled and rippled away in that direction too, leaving him standing on an island of clover in the middle of the meadow.

Now what? Isaac had no idea which way to go. Every direction looked exactly the same. He looked up. The sky was a solid bank of fluffy white clouds, but in one direction there were darker clouds on the horizon.

Isaac decided to walk away from the storm. He walked through the green grass, and it made a shushing noise.   Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang.   It sounded a little like it was singing “Twinkle, Twinkle,” or maybe the ABCs.

Isaac tried singing along to figure out which one it was, but they both sounded the same. He was just about to sing another round, when he heard voices up ahead. It sounded like they were yelling.

Isaac tried to walk quietly, so that he could see what was wrong and run away if it looked at all dangerous. He climbed to the top of the hill, and in the valley below, there were two ants wrestling with a giant blanket.

It was decorated with a cheerful red and white checked pattern, and it was big enough to cover the entire valley floor. The ants each held a corner and tried to spread out the blanket, and then the wind came blowing through and flipped the blanket over their heads.

That didn’t look too dangerous. Maybe they needed some help? Isaac climbed down the hill.   “What do you need the blanket for?” he asked.

One of the ants turned and let go of the blanket. The wind wrapped the blanket around the other ant. “What’s going on?” the ant asked from inside the blanket.

“We’re supposed to set up for the royal picnic, but the blanket won’t stay still,” the first ant said.

“I know that,” the ant in the blanket said.

“The queen will be angry if we don’t get done in time,” the first ant said.

“I know that too,” the other ant said. “Help me out.”

Isaac helped untangle the ant. “I’ll take a corner too,” he said. They spread out the blanket. When the wind blew, only one corner flapped around.

“We can’t let go,” one of the ants said.

“Can’t we just hold down the corners with rocks?” Isaac asked. He looked around. He couldn’t see any rocks big enough to hold down a blanket this large. “Surely there’s something we can use to hold down the blanket?”

The two ants looked at him and looked around. Then, they sat down on their corners of the blanket and looked up at him. Isaac looked around again.   It was green grass and hills in every direction.

Isaac wasn’t sure what to do. If he let go of the blanket, it would flop all over and the ants would be in trouble.   But, he needed to go find a way home.

Then he remembered hearing that the queen might know the way out. If he stayed and helped the ants, maybe he could meet the queen and ask her for help. Isaac sat down on the edge of the blanket.

“How long until the queen comes?” he asked.

“She will come when she is ready,” one ant said.

“And no earlier or later,” the other added.

“But it will be soon, right?” Isaac asked. “We’re not going to be sitting here all day?”

“We will sit here all day if we need to,” one ant said.

“And all night,” the other said.

“And all week.”

“And all month.”

“And all year.”

“But I don’t want to sit that long,” Isaac said. “Besides, I think you’d starve before a month was up.”

“It would be an honor to starve for the queen,” one the ants said. The other nodded.

“But…” Isaac began.

Both ants shot to their feet, standing at attention on the corners of the blanket. “She is coming!”

And, faintly, Isaac heard the sound of many footsteps approaching.

“If you don’t remember the spider…” Isaac began.

“What spider?” the bat asked.

“I eat spiders,” the owl said.

“Right,” Isaac said.

“Left,” the bat said.

Isaac scowled. “Could you tell me the way out?” he asked.

“We could…” the owl said.

“…but we won’t.” The bat cackled.

“Yes we will,” the owl said.

“Why would we do that?” the bat asked.

“So he’ll go away,” the owl said.

“But which way out does he want?” the bat asked.

Suddenly Isaac’s heart felt lighter. “There’s more than one?”

“It all depends on where you want to go,” the bat said.

“Home,” Isaac said. “I want to go home.”

The bat looked at him. “Nope, too far,” he said at last.

“Out of the cave?”

“Nope,” the bat said. The owl hooted and it sounded like laughter.

Isaac’s heart was dropping. “Out of the lobby?”

“Nope.” The owl hooted louder.

“Out of the potted plant?” He was still hopeful, but beginning to be resigned to be directed out of the clearing or the conversation or something like that.

“That we can help you with,” the bat said.

The owl hooted a half-hoot and then sputtered. “We can?”

“Sure.   Follow the direction the log is pointing. You’ll find some ladders leaning against some trees. Take the third one,” the bat said.

“I’ve never seen any ladders,” the owl said. “When did we get ladders?”

“They’re not ours,” the bat said. “And you always forget everything.”

“At least I remember exactly when to come in,” the owl said. “You start this time.”

“Gladly,” the bat said. “Row, row, row your boat…”

“Wait,” the owl said. “I wasn’t ready.”

Isaac looked at the log. The far end did look sort of pointy. He followed the direction it pointed, into the dark of the forest.

Once again, there was a path of small clumps of glowing green-gold moss to follow. He hurried along, hoping he was going in the right direction. And then he tripped over a ladder that was leaning against a tree.

The ladder swayed slightly, then settled again. Isaac stood up and brushed the dirt and leaves off. He walked slowly to the next tree. No ladder. Did he miss a ladder earlier? He looked at the tree with the ladder in the dim light and decided it would have been hard to miss.

He walked a little slower, straining his eyes as he looked back and forth. He saw the second ladder before he tripped over it. One more ladder. It wasn’t long before he found it. He started to climb.

Up and up and up he climbed. He’d never seen a ladder this tall. It started to get brighter. He must be getting close to the tops of the trees. He knew that it was still daytime. It was tempting to go back and tell the bat and owl, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t believe him, even if he could somehow convince them to climb the ladder.

The leaves of the trees brushed against his face, and he ducked his head to avoid the scratchy branches. Closing his eyes, he continued to climb. And then there were no more rungs.

Isaac opened his eyes. He was back in the empty lobby, back to his normal size. He dropped his hands and smiled.

He looked down at the potted plant. It was in a basket, the soil buried under bark chips. He couldn’t see a shoe or a bird or little houses or a forest or…

Had any of that really happened? He looked down. There was dirt on his knees and a leaf stuck to his shirt. That could have happened in the forest outside the cave.

Isaac decided it must have happened because he remembered it happening. It just all happened in another dimension or something. He looked closer at the bark dust. Something was sparkling. It was a tiny key. Had that been there before?

Isaac picked it up and unlocked the door. Then he put the key back. He pulled the feathers out of his pocket and paused. If this was the way out, he couldn’t leave the baseball behind.

It was still waiting by the elevator where he’d left it. He picked it up and shoved it in a pocket. Then he took the feathers out again. He held out his arms and started to push the air up with the little feathers. He began to shrink.

“This is a story from before,” the squirrel said. “I was there, and owl was there, and I remember, but owl does not.”

“I object,” the owl said. “If I don’t remember it, then I obviously wasn’t there.”

The bat laughed. “This is obviously going to be good. Keep going. What happened?”

“As I said…” The squirrel paused and yawned. “I said that the owl was there.”

“I was not,” the owl said.

“Keep going,” the bat said.

The squirrel blinked sleepily. “The owl was there, and he lived in a hole in a tree. The tree was on an island in the middle of a lake. My cousins and I visited the island in the fall, to gather nuts for winter.”

“What kind of nuts?” Isaac asked.

“Whatever kinds we could find,” the squirrel said.

“What kinds could you find?” Isaac asked.

“Whatever kinds were there,” the squirrel said.

“But…” Isaac began.

“Hush,” the bat said. “You’re interrupting the story. That’s rude.”

“I don’t remember when I last met someone so rude,” the owl said.

“You don’t remember anything,” the bat said.

“I remember…” the squirrel said. The owl and bat looked down at the squirrel. “I remember that we took boats to the island. And we carried empty sacks for the nuts. We used our tails as sails and the wind pushed us across the water…”

The squirrel stared off into the distance. The bat scowled. “What happened next?” he asked.

“I used to like riddles,” the squirrel said. “The trickier the better.”

“That’s nice,” the bat said. “But I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Tell us a riddle later.”

“You’d better know the answer to the riddle before you ask it,” the owl said.   “The bat always forgets. It’s irritating.”

“I do not,” the bat said.

“You do too,” the owl said.

“I remember…” the squirrel said again. Once again, the owl and bat stopped arguing and looked down. “The owl lived in a hole in a tree.”

“You already said that part,” Isaac said, trying to be helpful.

“Stop interrupting,” the bat said.

“You interrupt too,” Isaac said.

“I do not,” the bat said. “I have more manners than that.”

“Is the story over, then?” the owl asked.

“No, it’s just started,” the bat said. “Keep talking, squirrel.”

“The owl lived in a tree, and the tree was on an island,” the squirrel said.   “And my cousins and I would come to gather nuts for the winter.”

“Is that the whole story?” Isaac asked.

“Hush,” the bat said.

“My cousins and I would visit the island, and I remember…” the squirrel looked off into the distance. Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when the bat hissed at him.

“We would ask the owl permission to gather nuts,” the squirrel said at last.   “And I would tell him riddles. But he never answered them. He never answered.”

“This story is obviously not about me,” the owl said. “I am very good at riddles.”

“What happened?” the bat said, ignoring him.

“He bit off my tail,” the squirrel said.

“But you still have a tail,” Isaac said.

“It was longer,” the squirrel said. “I remember.”

“Is that the end?” the owl asked.

“My tail is the end of me, but the end of my tail is not the end of the tale,” the squirrel said.

“I’m suddenly remembering something,” the owl said.

“What do you remember?” Isaac asked.

“I’m remembering that I hate riddles,” the owl said. He clicked his beak ominously.

“The tale is done,” the squirrel said, and he disappeared back into the hollow of the log.