Digger the Worm: a Big Dig

by Peter Ponzo

sometimes it was hot and sometimes it was wet and sometimes it was dry, but mostly it was the most exciting thing he had ever done.

  Once, while resting deep in the ground, he heard a sound and waited to see what it was. He was very surprised when another worm came digging by. It was a very old worm with skin all wrinkled and face all shrivelled and when the old worm saw Digger he said, “Sonny, you’re pretty young to be this far in the ground.”

  “My name isn’t Sonny,” said Digger. “You can call me Digger or you can call me Burrow. And I’m looking for a new place. A place I’ve never seen before. An exciting place where the grass is greener and the sun is brighter and the sky is bluer and ...”

  “That’s silly,” the old man said. “Stay where you belong. It’s much safer. If you go too far from home you’ll meet things you won’t like. You’ll meet a spade. You’ll meet a robin. You’ll meet a ...”

  “Wait, wait!” said Digger. “What’s a spade?”

  The old worm coughed and Digger could see he didn’t feel very well.

  “Old worm,” said Digger, “you should rest for a while. You shouldn’t be digging so hard. You should stay at home and rest.”

  “It’s the end of the world,” said the old worm. “It comes from above, black and sharp and fast and it cuts you into pieces.”

  “What’s that?” asked Digger. ‘What cuts you into pieces?”

  “The spade,” said the old worm. “It’s the end of the world. The spade ... the end ... pieces ...”

  Digger waited but the old worm didn’t talk any more.

  “Hello?” Digger said. “Aren’t you feeling well?” he asked.

  But the old worm was sleeping, so Digger quietly crawled away and began to dig once more.

  It must have been evening when Digger rested again. Of course, he was deep in the ground so he couldn’t tell if it was evening because it was so dark. That was when he decided to dig up and crawl out of the ground. He would look around just for a minute. Just to see if it was daytime or nighttime. He didn’t want to see his old maple tree again or his garden. Even if he was still close to home he wouldn’t go back. He would just take a quick peek then dig back down again ... to find a new place.

  So he started to dig up, up, up.

  Before he reached the top he heard a noise. It was a thump, thump, thump. He had never heard such a noise before.

  Once, when he was playing under his big old maple tree, a branch fell down and almost hit him. But that was only one thump.

  Then he remembered what the old worm had said: “It comes from above, black and sharp and fast and it cuts you into pieces.” That’s what he had said. Maybe he was talking about branches, from a big old maple tree. Don’t they come from above? And a big branch could cut you into pieces couldn’t it?

  Thump, thump, thump.

  There it was again. That noise. Digger went more slowly, up, up to the top where the sun would shine brighter and the grass would grow greener and the sky would be bluer.

  Before he stuck his head out of the ground he heard voices, talking:

  “I think we should leave the forest,” one voice said.

  “No, this is our home,” another voice said.

  “But what if it finds us here?” another voice said.

  “Who will find you here?” Digger said.

  The voices stopped. Digger was sitting on the ground looking at the strangest animals he had ever seen ... and they were looking at him.

  “Where did you come from,” one animal said.

  “From the ground,” Digger said.

  “Of course you came from the ground,” the animal said. “You’re a worm and all worms come from the ground. But I know all the worms around here, and you’re not one of them.”

  Digger said, “That’s because I’ve been digging all day so I could find a new place. Is this a new place?”

  The animals all laughed.

  One animal had long ears and a bushy tail and she laughed until she fell on her side. “Humm, gracious me,” she said.

  Another animal was tall and she giggled and giggled until she had to sit down on her long legs.

  The last animal was black and flapped enormous wings and he flew up into a tree, then cackled and crowed until he almost fell off the branch.

  “Why are you laughing?” Digger said. “Did I say something funny?”

  “A new place?” said the rabbit. “You think this is a new place?”

  “You funny worm, this is the same old place,” said the doe. “We’ve lived here for a long time and it hasn’t changed one bit.”

  “Caw, caw,” said the crow. “Stupid worm, if you’re looking for a new place then you’d better keep digging.”

  Digger looked around. There was no grass on the ground, just leaves. He looked up. There was no blue sky, just trees. It was quite dark because the sun was behind the trees and there were long shadows everywhere.

  “This place looks pretty new to me,” Digger said. “I’ve never been here before. I’ve never seen so many trees or so many leaves.”

  Then Digger scratched his head, trying to think of where he was, and his hat fell off.

  “Oh my!” Digger said. “My hat. It’s on my head!”

  “Caw, caw,” said the crow. “Dumb worm, that’s where a hat should be.”

  “What a funny worm,” said the doe. “Of course it’s on your head.”

  “Wait,” Digger said. “I mean ... I forgot ... I’m not supposed to burrow with my hat on my head. I mean, my mother said I should leave my hat ...”

  “Burrow?” said the rabbit. “Did you say ‘burrow’?”

  Digger smiled and brushed the dirt off his hat and put in on his head.

  “Yeah,” said Digger. “That’s what I do. I burrow. That means I dig. Didn’t you know that?”

  The rabbit said, “Burrow is where I live. Didn’t you know that?” and she laughed and pointed to a hole in the ground. “Now that’s a burrow.”

  Digger crawled to the hole and looked down.

  “Did you dig that hole?” he asked the rabbit.

  “Of course I did,” the rabbit said.

  “Then that’s why you call it a burrow. You dig and that means you burrow. I dig, so they call me Digger. You burrow, so I’ll call you Burrow.”

  “Caw,” said the crow. “Dumb worm is pretty smart.”

  The rabbit hopped up and down three times. Thump, thump, thump. “Humm, gracious me, my name is Hopper,” she said. “That’s my name. My name is not Burrow.”

  Digger scratched his head again. “Of course,” Digger said. “You hop so your name is Hopper.”

  The doe looked at Hopper the rabbit and said, “You could have two names, couldn’t you? You could be Hopper on Monday and Burrow on Tuesday and Hopper on Wednesday and ...”

  “No,” Digger said, “I think that one name is quite, quite enough ... and I like Hopper.”

  “Caw,” said the crow to the rabbit, “that settles it. Your name is Hopper.”

  “Of course my name is Hopper,” the rabbit said. “It was Hopper when I was born and it’s still Hopper.” And the rabbit hopped three times. Thump, thump, thump.

  The doe was lying on the ground, staring into the shadows. Then she jumped to her feet.

  “It’s coming,” she said. “I still think we should leave the forest.”

  “No, this is our home,” Hopper said.

  “Caw, but what if it finds us here?” said the crow.

  “Who will find you here?” Digger said.

  The doe looked at Digger, then the rabbit looked at Digger, then the crow looked at Digger.

  “The end of the world,” said the doe. “It’s coming.”

  “Is it black and sharp and fast and does it cut you into pieces?” asked Digger.

  “Caw,” said the crow. “Then you’ve seen it?”

  “Of course,” said Digger. “But there’s nothing to worry about.”

 
“Really?” said Hopper. “Nothing to worry about?”

  “Of course not,” said Digger. “It almost fell on me and it almost cut me into pieces but I just got out of the way and ...”

  “Humm, gracious, what was it?” asked the rabbit. “I’ve never seen it. I just heard it, huffing and puffing and shaking the ground. Even the trees were trembling. And when the shaking stopped I came out of my burrow and hopped to the edge of the forest, but it was gone.”

  The others listened quietly to the rabbit. The doe and the crow had heard the huffing and puffing too. And they had felt the shaking. And they were all afraid.

  “You shouldn’t be afraid,” said Digger. “When the branch falls down you just get out of the way. Then it won’t hurt you. It won’t cut you into pieces. It won’t ...”

  “Caw,” said the crow. “Dumb worm! What branch?”

  Digger said, “The branch that falls from the big old maple tree. It comes from above and it’s fast and it’ll cut you into pieces if you’re not careful.”

  “Caw, caw,” screamed the crow and he flew out of the tree and flapped his wings and landed right beside Digger. “I’ve seen it,” the crow said.

  “So have I,” Digger said. “But when the branch fell down I just got out of the way.”

  “Caw, caw!” the crow screamed. “Dumb worm, it was not a branch! It was a giant and it walked through the forest and it ate trees.”

  Hopper the rabbit went thump, thump, thump with three big hops. “You saw it!” the rabbit yelled. “You saw it eating trees?”

  The doe was trembling. “I think we should leave the forest,” she said, “before it’s too late.”

  Hopper said to the crow, “Humm, gracious, you saw it? Why didn’t you tell us you saw it? It was eating trees? Why didn’t you tell us it was eating