by David Kersey
CHAPTER TWO
I entered the clearing and the din diminished to a hush. The group of friends were in or near their places, which places formed a nearly- perfect circle. That's why we called ourselves The Circle by the way. Eleven present, but curiously Penny had not yet arrived. The clearing is also nearly perfectly circular and totally enclosed by mature hardwoods. We were sealed off from the outside world which was good because we just wanted our small group in attendance, not a gallery. If we needed larger environs there was always the pasture, but what good would that do really, only the twelve of us had learned to talk. Well, that's not totally true but it's complicated. Thirteen is a bad number, at least that's what we told Edgar, the eagle, but the real reason is that he didn't live on John's estate. Edgar could talk though. Oh, forgot Ferdinand, he would be fourteen, but he didn’t want to be a part of the circle anyway, saying he was too ‘edible’.
Each creature had their own type of seat, either fashioned by the use of rocks or tree stumps, or in the case of Oliver, a low lying limb. Mortimer simply stood in place. I encouraged the use of assigned seating since that would lend itself to an orderly meeting and frankly some animals needed to be apart from others.
I seated myself at the six o'clock position. To my left at the seven position was Methusaleh, the mouse, seated on his small rock. Methusaleh was an asset in that he and his kin could burrow and easily hide. They also could dart here and there in a flash and not be easily followed. Methusaleh was quiet, calculating, analytical, and often showed no pleasure in small talk or other such nonsense. The accountant type. He had a pleasant singing voice which was sometimes heard once he got over his shyness. He preferred country/western, which style he had picked up by listening to the car radios of parked couples over on the dirt road by the cornfield. His singing voice was high pitched and crisp, so Wendell tried to nickname him Crystal Meth, but it didn't stick. I picked out the rock he was using as his seat and it suited him fine.
At the eight position was Mort, easily the strongest of the group, and oldest. He rarely spoke but when he did it would take entirely too long just for one sentence. The group strongly encouraged him to be a good listener. Good to see Mort standing in place. His eyes were closed, perhaps he was asleep. That might be good.
At nine sat Wendell, the weasel, seated there by proxy since Mort blocked the eye to eye contact that Wendell would have with Methusaleh had he sat at any other position. You should never seat a mouse and weasel side by side. Wendell was a prankster with a villainous bent. It was assumed he could be trusted since he always attended the meetings and had no priors. His strength was also quickness and burrowing, but additionally he was quite adept at sleuthing while being totally hidden from view. He also drove a hard bargain. I guess you could say he was the super salesman among us. He could coax a bird to give up its newly caught worm and then sell it to a cow for the small commission of an ear of corn.
At ten was the usual place for Penny, but she had still not arrived. Penny could always be counted on to do whatever was needed without so much as a peep. Always agreeable and non-aggressive. Strange she wasn't here yet. That was not like her one bit and it caused me some concern since she would be the defendant in today's arbitration.
At eleven sat Stammer. I had intentionally seated Stammer next to Penny since Penny was so likeable I thought it might do some repair work with the contentiousness between the squirrels and pigs. Still a work in progress.
Stammer had valuable skills. He could flit from tree to tree high above the ground. He also had a bagful of gestures that were signals to the others while being displayed in silence. Stammer had a noticeable trait of self-importance which was so opposed to Penny's demeanor. I thought a balance might occur if they sat next to each other. Also Stammer's forced self-esteem just might be superficial. It could be a defense mechanism arising from his struggles to speak smoothly. But I can't hold a pencil so what do I really know other than dog sense?
At twelve was Oliver, the owl. Oliver perched on a limb a few feet above the ground and I placed him there quite on purpose because he was directly opposite me. Actually that was the reason I chose the six position for myself. Oliver was, everyone knew, very wise. It seemed I could understand what Oliver was thinking by just making eye contact. Besides the wisdom Oliver possessed, he could do one thing the others couldn't, he could fly. Well, Dorcas could fly, but no one had seen her do it. A little too much lead in the bottom?
And Oliver could see things the others couldn't, especially at night. His reconnaissance proved to be extremely valuable from time to time. Even though he was wise, and therefore reserved, he occasionally amused us when we would ask him to turn his head 360 degrees. The rest of us would then try what he accomplished and we heard nothing but necks cracking.
Diametrically opposite Methusaleh and his idealism was the one o’clock position of carefree Dorcas. Dorcas had no particular skill other than to lighten the sometimes somber mood. What really set Dork apart was that she would give you the last feather off her back despite her frivolity, and for that trait she was not only tolerated, but appreciated, though in secret. Dorcas was not a good listener. She could hear just one word of someone's sentence and then drive that word down her own little highway, then start taking us down that road before the other's sentence was finished. She did have an ability to see what existed below water surfaces which the others could not do as well, but that skill had not been called upon to date. After my encounter with Ferdinand, I thought I might need her to take a look around the pond. I'll ask her after this sham, uh, meeting is over.
Felicia, the fox, sat at the two position. Among foxes, Felicia is a fox. You know, a foxy lady. And she knows it, sometimes batting a flirtatious eye at anyone who might be looking at her. Her value to the group lay in her ability to evade capture. She took great joy in provoking the others to engage in a test of hide and seek. Felicia would almost always be the last found save for one incident that still rubbed her wrongly. If there is such a thing in the animal realm, she would be the fashion plate though very much the tease. I wondered if her demeanor disguised a touch of insincerity, maybe even deviousness. I would keep observing her. However, I had no amorous interest. You’ll see why in just a bit.
Randall, the raccoon, sat next to Felicia at the three position. Randall, the newest to join the group, was the least known. The group did know that Randall could scale a tree just about as well as Stammer. That might come in handy. He also was more alert during the night time than most of the others. He should make a good sentry. That remained to be seen. I had asked Oliver to keep an eye on Randall since Oliver could see at night just as plain as day. Oliver told me that so far there was not much to worry about other than Randall and his clan sometimes raided the house cook's garden late at night. "Oh my," I thought, "if Mozetta knew that she would have a conniption fit."
Cassandra, at the four spot, was in a unique position. Being the master's house cat she had certain privileges that the others didn't have. She had access to the house. I did, too, but I had to be invited in, whereas Cassie could come and go as she pleased via a small flexible doorway constructed in the foundation. Though Cassie was fiercely loyal to John, she would sometimes reveal information that only she was capable of secreting away. She had once told me in private that there was a secret room in the basement, and that sometimes a few men accompanied the master in to that secret place and they would stay within until the wee hours of morning. I had never seen the basement, let alone the secret place.
Actually I think Cassie is better looking than Felicia, but that's just me. I could go for Cassie, but you know how it is, what would the others say? I’m a dog, she’s a cat. Still, she is sooo easy on the eyes. Pure white except for a pink nose and matching toes and sapphire eyes that sparkle. Wow.
Lastly, at the five o’clock seat, was Rasputin. The group called him Raspy, due to the rabbit's gruff voice. Raspy was the type who knew everything that could possibly be known, and was quick to
flaunt his expertise, which most of the group surmised was more fabrication than genuine. However, Raspy sometimes made valuable counterpoints that would cause the circle to fine tune the group decision making. It takes all kinds, right? Actually I thought Raspy was a decent rabbit. We just had to tolerate a know-it-all.
The individuals making up the circle were indeed diverse. Yet despite the diversity there was a unity born from the census that group preservation was as important as self-preservation. At least that was the company line. There were arguments, misunderstandings, prejudices, skirmishes, hurt feelings, and even cliques. Over time, the group had learned to coexist satisfactorily, yet I wondered just how strong the bond would be in a time of great stress. Little did I know that the time of great stress would come knocking in just a matter of days.
I was just ready to inquire about the whereabouts of Penny when I heard sobbing coming from the forest behind me. I turned to the direction of the crying and saw Penny emerge from the trees. She also was leading a quite large sow who obviously was the one sobbing. Penny's eyes were wide open as if in shock or extreme fright, and the sow's stride was shaky, staggered, and bent.
Though a circle member was prompted not to bring guests without prior approval, I could tell this was a situation more urgent than the planned arbitration. I motioned for Penny to take her seat and have the sow take a place beside her. After they had settled into place, I asked, "What's this about Penny?"
Penny tried to compose herself, and then began. "This is my cousin Candace. She lives down on the Klein farm, which most of you know is about five miles from here." Penny looked down at Candace and saw the large tears leaking from reddened eyes.
"Her husband Harvey is dead, they killed him."
"Who killed him?" I asked.
Penny whispered in Candace's ear, and then Candace got to her feet. "Harvey and I have been together for four years. We have two piglets." Candace rubbed her eyes and began again. "He, he, he was stripped to the bone, only bones left. We were all so scared, a lot of us left, oh, my poor Harvey." With that Candace collapsed back the ground and her body began to heave because of her resumed wailing.
"The Klein people said it was bulldogs that got him," Penny said while stroking her cousins back. "But not the dog kind, it was the insect kind. Ants. Candace and her children will be staying with me for a while. The ants, the Klein folk call them bulldogs, are attacking and no one knows why. They come and go, pop up in a flash-bang attack, and are quickly gone back to wherever they hide out."
I caught Oliver's eye, and I immediately knew Oliver had some insight about this. And then Cassie whispered to me, "We need to talk."I motioned for Dorcas to approach me.
"Dorcas, would you do us a favor? Would you mind going to Ferd's pond and taking a look around, especially under water, and ask Ferd what he meant when he told me that something is up?"
"Now?” Dorcas asked.
"Yes, now, and come back as soon as you can after taking a good look. And be sure to talk with Ferdinand."
I stood and explained to the group that the arbitration between Penny and Stammer would be tabled, and that we need to give a great deal of thought about what we just heard.
"Oliver, do you any idea what seems to be going on?"
At that point Oliver glided down to the middle of the circle and once alit he slowly examined the circumference to make sure all were listening.
"I have an inkling", he said, "that the attack that happened down at Klein's has been going on for a while in the south, and now it's moving closer to our area. I too have a cousin who visited me last week. He lives past Salem which is well past the Klein spread to the south. Same thing happened with ants at a couple places down that way. I am of the opinion that we all would do well to be on guard."
I said, "Candace, or Penny, or anybody, what exactly are bulldogs?"
"Aannnntttts." Mort volunteered. "Bbbiiiggguunnns." So he wasn't asleep?
"Actually bulldog ants are about an inch long and are not found in this country. If you plucked off the wings of a wasp, that's what they look like," Raspy instructed. "Ain't no bulldog ants around here, they's all in Australia. Not sure I believe any of this. Bulldogs can't take down a full grown hog, no way. Excuse my bluntness, ma'am, that's just the way it is."
I distinctly heard Wendell whisper, "Yeah, well you don't know your ants from a hole in the ground." I have very good hearing, so maybe Raspy didn't hear that despite his big ears.
Candace countered by explaining that her Harvey had a bad heart. "He may have had a heart attack and then those ants ate on him, I don't know. All I know is that he's gone. He was such a good hog."
I could tell Cassie wanted to talk immediately, so I motioned for her to join me a few steps away from the circle.
"There's a meeting scheduled for tonight at the main house," Cassie said. "Jenkins, Klein, Loman and some others are coming. I think, since Klein is attending, that the meeting will address the ant issue. I'll do my best to get as close as I can but I am sure they will be in the secret room. I'll do my best."
Dorcas waddled her way back to the circle and waited for Cassie and I to take our places, then said, "Ferd's pond is full of strangers: frogs, snakes, turtles. Kinda makes me scared to swim there. Ferd told me that those strangers are runnin' scared, just like Candace said."
I noticed that Dork's feathers were dry, but I made no mention of it.
"Folks, it does sound unusual for an ant to cause the type of destruction that Candace is describing, but then when we add in the information from Oliver's cousin, plus a word of warning from Ferdinand, we have to take this seriously." I said, "We will meet here tomorrow at the same hour, until then, gather what information you can. Get with your people and see what they know. Be prepared to share with the circle tomorrow. Consider this a biggie."
Raspy would not let it end at that. "No way, sorry, none of this is true. The only possibility is that the bullet ant from Mexico arrived here in a delivery truck. But there's no ant in the world that can do what's being said. I do not consider this a biggie, I consider it bogus."
"So are you calling that pig a liar?" Felicia questioned rather loudly. Felicia and Raspy sometimes got in each other's face. I suppose it was because Raspy once was the last one found in a game of hide and seek, and then quit while he was ahead, saying at subsequent challenges that hide and seek was for juveniles who hide deep-set insecurities.
"Fox, don't you dare question me. You can't even spell rabbit, much less have a decent conversation with one. You're better seen than heard."
Then something happened that surprised me a little. Randall left his seat and walked over to Rasputin, put his arm around him, and encouraged him to leave it alone. The both of them then left the circle without saying another word. Hmmm, I thought, Randall has a bodyguard mentality, maybe leadership qualities.
With that I went over to Candace and smoothed her back with my paw. "I believe you Candace. I am so sorry about what happened to Harvey. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you, but one thing for sure, I will try to find out just exactly what happened. You need to know." Cassie joined us and offered her condolences.
Cassie and I left the circle and walked back toward the house together. I said as we walked, "let's both try to overhear what John may say about this. He's often on the phone, then would be the best time to listen."