Stink Bug – Chapter 3

All was whiteness around me. I wasn’t sure if I was swimming or walking. There was some manner of firmness that I pushed off from with my feet, propelling myself forward. But then the air, or whatever it was, was thick and I caught myself paddling with my arms.

The bug scurried ahead much faster than me. I struggled to keep up. Absently, I leapt with both feet and tried to swim a freestyle stroke. I found myself buried in mush. It felt sticky. It enveloped me. I couldn’t pull away. I cried out. It grew tighter. That suffocating pressure began again. What if I couldn’t escape.

I cried out again, but my voice was weak.

“Help,” I breathed, as the mush got tighter.

“What are you doing?” The bug was standing over me.

“Help!” I mouthed.

“Hold still.”

I did. The mush relaxed and I was able to stand again.

“You are a curious one,” remarked the bug, as he turned and continued down the path. “It’s not much further,” he called back.

I stumbled along behind him, hoping I could keep up. He was scurrying so quickly. He stopped abruptly and opened his wings. He jumped up then dropped out of sight. Faintly I could hear the cracking of his wings as they flapped.

I hurried to see where he had gone. Everything as far as I could see was white. Where had he gone? I took a step and saw a faint blue circle in front of me. Two more steps, and I saw that I stood at the mouth of a cave opening out of a cliff of white. Before me was a landscape of open grassy meadows divided by sinuous streams symmetrically lined with perfectly pruned round trees. The scene was capped by startling blue skies pocked by perfect white clouds.

The opening where I stood was a least fifty feet above the meadow floor. How could I possibly get down there? And where had the stink bug gone?

There was a shout from below. A man was there. Or was it?

“Hello!” he yelled. This was the stink bug. But now he wasn’t a bug.

“Hi,” I said feebly.

“Can you fly?”

“Are you kidding?”

He screeched a laugh. I noticed he had a beak instead of a mouth. And he was covered with feathers. This triggered a memory in me. But of what?

I started to laugh. He reminded me of a burrowing owl. He was stumpy, barrel shaped, and brown, with long yellow legs. I looked again. Yes, he had long yellow legs, complete with talons.

He cocked his head. “Why do you laugh so?”

I gasped. How rude of me. “I’m sorry.”

He continued to gaze up at me with yellow eyes that matched the color of his legs.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t fly.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He waved an arm at me. “I will get help.” He turned and began to hop away. “Stay there. I will get help.”

He spread his wings and flew toward a distant large stand of trees. Abruptly he turned and came back, coming close to the cave entrance. “Sorry,” he said as he passed. “I have a question.” He landed again on the meadow below. He tidied his wings and ran his fingers through the feathers around his face.

“Whoa,” I muttered.

“What do you call yourself?” he called up.

“You have arms and wings,” I said.

“Huh? What?”

“Those are wings. And arms.” I pointed down at him.

He opened one wing and ran his fingers along the flight feathers. “Yes?”

“But how?”

“This is how we all are,” he muttered. “But, not now. Later. I am K’eel. What is your name?”

“Nathan,” I replied. “Nate.”

“Good! I’ll be back.” With a hopping start, K’eel took off again and headed off out of sight.

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