Memoirs of Ali
Chapter Seven
Three days later I stood hidden in the grass by the porch, my heart pounding and my mind racing wildly. By my calculations, Aussie would be coming outside soon and I would have to approach her then. Violet had assured me that there was little chance of me being eaten - Aussie was gentle at most times. I was going to have to watch out, however, to avoid getting stepped on.
I smelled the air. Fall was definitely here now. Everything around me seemed red and brown and yellow; how had all the green in the world disappeared so fast, almost overnight? No matter where I looked I saw something dying; a small plant, a strand of grass, a little ant, and I too could feel death starting to stir up inside of me, like a cold, evil presence in my stomach. It was urgent that I complete my work soon.
And yet . . . I had a deeper regret, something that I hadn't spoken of to anyone. I had no children. I had never mated. I remembered Aspen once more, telling me that there was nothing more important than children, and I felt hollow inside. Long ago, the rebellion had given me the same sense of purpose that children give to their parents, but now it had faded. If only I had mated with Kamala, back in the glorious early summer when we were both young and in love and so easy to please. I wouldn't have minded her eating me alive, after all. It would've been worth it.
The door swung open and I jumped, fear boiling inside of me. A huge, gray, furry leg stepped off of the threshold, onto the porch. Aussie.
I straightened up onto my back legs, trying to get a better view of her. The more I saw of her, the calmer I actually felt. Yes, she was big and scary, but she didn't have that same obscene hugeness that the humans did, nor that sense of complete superiority that instills such terror in smaller creatures. No matter how tall she stood, she was still an animal, and still on my level. I moved towards her, stopping by one of her paws. When she didn't notice me, I poked it. A startled whimper rewarded me, and brown eyes focused on me, fixing me to the porch.
"Who?" said Aussie. "Who?" Her voice was surprisingly soft and sweet.
"My name's Ali," I said quickly. "I'm a bug."
"A bug talking to me?" Aussie said in surprise.
"Yes," I said. "I know it probably seems strange to you, but I have important things to tell you." I took a deep breath, running over in my mind what I was supposed to say. "Aussie, the bugs of the field and grass need you very much."
"Why?"
"Because," I continued, "because we are all in big trouble. Bad things are going to happen if your Master stays in his house, so we must drive him out."
Aussie cocked an ear. "What bad things?"
"We're not sure exactly," I said, "but we know they will be bad. Bad things for our children. There will be poison on the ground, and the air will go bad."
"And we need to drive Master out?" Aussie said, clearly confused.
"Yes," I said. "You see, if your Master is not here, I promise he will be safe, and he will not accidentally help the bad things happen. We need your help, in case we need a large animal to help us. You see, we are very small and we may accidentally do something wrong, but you are big and strong and smart, and you can help us the most. Of course, if you don't want to . . ."
"I want." Aussie's brown eyes were shining now - the flattery had worked. "But Master will not be hurt? You promise?
"Master will not be hurt?" she said after a while. "
"No," I said firmly. "Your Master will not be hurt at all."
"I will help, then," Aussie said.
"Can you meet me here again tomorrow?" I said, glowing with triumph inside, and Aussie nodded brightly.
Your Master will not be hurt, I thought grimly as I watched her lope off. Yeah, sure.
It was amazing how easily the lie had flowed out of my mouth.
* * * * * * *
" . . . and attack them tonight!"
The Spider stood with two of his legs raised aloft. A crowd of creatures of every kind surrounded him, from ants to birds, and all of them were cheering wildly and dancing around what looked like a crude model of a human, with an apple for a head, sticks for a body and leaves for clothing, all held together by spider-silk. Everyone was spitting on it, biting it and kicking it freely, laughing and screeching with barbaric happiness.
I hung back, dazed with my own success. I could not believe that all of our dreams, are plans, our hopes would be either fulfilled or destroyed by the end of the day. The attack was to play out as follows.
When Aussie went out for her morning breath of fresh air, the bees were to enter the house, leading the charge. They would swarm around, frightening and harassing the humans until they had all been driven into a single space. Then the ants were to come in, followed by the birds and the rest of the insects and creatures. The larger, stronger creatures would handle attacking the humans ("Kill them if you can't drive them out," said the Spider), and the others would swarm through the house, causing as much devastation as possible.
"This is where Aussie will be useful," the lieutenant bee explained to me. "You see, Aussie knows the house from head to foot, so she'll be able to guide us so we don't get lost and crack up. She'll also be able to tell us where the poisons and such are kept, so we don't put ourselves in danger. We can't let her see what we're doing to the humans or she might desert us, but she'll be good moral support."
It was a perfect plan in my eyes. Even the chill bitterness of autumn had left me slightly; nothing could destroy my zeal at this moment. Not even . . .
"So it's you."
I yelped and spun around. Peering at me from out of the grass behind me was none other than the grasshopper, Toby.
"You're here," I said weakly.
"Yeah," said Toby, "so I am, eh? Your old best buddy, and all that?"
He looked bitter, most unlike his usual hyperactive self, and I felt nervous to be near him.
"Are you here to fight with us?" I said awkwardly, already knowing the answer.
"No," said Toby coldly. "And you know what, Ali? I always knew you liked Kamala, but I didn't think you liked her enough to go around killing people."
"I'm not going around killing people -" I started to explain, but Toby interrupted me.
"Never mind. You stay with your friends and have your little parties and rebellions. Obviously you care more about them now." And he was gone.
* * * * * * *
"Glory be . . . I never saw so many bugs and things in one place."
Aussie's head stared at us through the dog flap door, the rest of her body in the house. Her tongue was hanging out in amazement.
"Yes, we are many," said the Spider. He sounded impatient, restless. "Can you please hold open the door so we can come in?"
"Sure, of course."
She poked her head back inside. A minute later the flap lifted up, held open by her teeth.
"Well, come on," she growled, her voice muffled.
"Remember the plan," Spider said simply. "Bees go first. Go on, go!"
There was a frantic buzzing noise as the bees gushed in through the door.
"That's it?" Violet said. "No 'good luck?' No 'charge?'"
"Birds next," the Spider said after a moment, and all the insects made a wide birth for the flapping, feathered clouds of destruction that poured in through the flap door. "Everyone else, follow, like we rehearsed . . ."
Before I knew it, I was being shoved in through the door by a tide of creatures all around me. I shook myself and looked around.
The house was another world entirely; it was much smaller than the world outside, but somehow its smallness made it seem even more huge. For a moment I was completely dazed by it all. I could hear the humans' voices coming from another room; voices raised in cries of distress, intermingling with the battle cries of the Cultivated Country creatures. I was walking forward without really knowing where I was going or what I was about to do. Beside me, Violet cackled delightedly.
"This is it, brother," she said. "Watch me!"
My sister shoved her way through the mob up to a group of wasps who were looking rather confused; she shoved one of them in the ribs and said something to them that I couldn't hear. A moment later she was leading them in a climb up one of the shelves on the wall.
"Violet!" I said. "What are you -"
Something heavy and glass fell off of the shelf and shattered on the floor; I threw myself on the ground, flattening myself in order to shield myself from the flying broken shards.
"That's insane!" I called, once the commotion had stopped.
"You said it!" Violet laughed. "Come and help us do this big one!"
Before I could begin to climb, however, something whooshed close to my ear; instinct told me to run and I did. Looking up, I saw one of the humans; a fully-grown man, his arms covered in stings and bites, his eyes wide with pain and shock and malice. He was brandishing something long and lethal-looking in his hand, and swinging at me, shouting words that were without a doubt words of hate. I froze with horror.
"ALI, YOU IDIOT, RUN!" I heard Violet shriek, and another large glass object came tumbling off the shelf, this time landing on the head of the man, who yelled in pain and spun around, swinging in Violet's direction. Surprised at this selfless act on my sister's part, I remained where I was, while the man continued to yell in rage.
Then another voice joined the din:
"STOP!" It was Aussie. I turned and saw her, her furry pelt covered in stings, her chest heaving, her eyes blazing.
"What the . . ." Violet cried. "Aussie, you two-faced hound, you're on our side, what are you -"
"You can't do this! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO MASTER!"
Aussie looked almost demonic. Her teeth were bared. The man had stopped swinging at Violet and was watching her intently; he seemed caught between hope and terror.
"I thought you said Master would not be hurt!" she snapped at me. I balked and whimpered, to my shame.
"I thought we were going to keep her away from the fighting!" Violet said, sounding dismayed. "Aussie, you're wrong about this! It's all going to be all right!"
I knew that it was too late, though. Even as I watched, Aussie was snapping at bugs left and right, swallowing some, snipping the legs off of others.
Violet moaned. "They're all going to quit once they see this going on!"
"Think again," I said quietly.
The Spider had arrived on the scene. He was surrounded by bees and wasps, and his eyes were bright and his face stiff with anger.
"What is the meaning of this, dog?" he said.
"Can't hurt Master," Aussie panted, still snapping at the insects around her.
"Don't you see?" the Spider said. "This is for the good of the community, Aussie! This is progress!"
"I don't think so," Aussie growled. "I think you're doing yourselves in! Master has always taken care of your land, and now you're hurting him!"
"You look at things with a simple eye," the Spider said. "I know you're better than that, Aussie. Listen to me."
"I won't!" Aussie's voice broke into a wild, high-pitched snarl and she hurled herself at the Spider.
What happened next I will always remember with nothing but nausea. The bees that were surrounding the Spider all attacked Aussie; a hundred stingers were driven into her body, a hundred jaws locked around her flesh. More insects piled on, all biting and stinging and scratching wildly, until Aussie looked more like a left-behind skin than a dog, lying limp and dead on the floor.
