Baited Breath

Orville clung to his mother’s pelt; a wobbly passenger new to the world. Through squinty eyes he observed his mother’s steady progress as she went from termite mound, to rotted tree, to jakalberry grove. He considered her whip-like tongue collecting insects and fruit at a mad pace while she remained serene. Several times a day she coaxed him off her back to nurse until his belly was full. As he got a little older, she would leave him in the burrow she dug with her powerful claws. A cool, underground respite from the African sun. Orville dozed and dreamed of spaghetti.

            One day as Orville slept, Bill wandered into the burrow in search of something to eat. Orville heard Bill’s tiny feet, just as he heard all the insects moving through the ground around him. He lifted his head to see what it was.

            “Hi, I’m Orville,” he said to Bill.

            “Hi, I’m Bill. Do you have anything to eat?”

            “No, I don’t. But when my mom gets back, she might have something.”

            “I dunno, I’m pretty hungry right now. Any wood laying around?”

            “Wood? You eat wood?”

            “Sure. Plants too. Everybody in my family is vegetarian.”

            “Wow. Cool. My favorite food is spaghetti.”

            “What’s that?”

            “It looks like a long worm, but it was never alive. My mom gets it where people live in the big tents. You know what people are?”

            “Oh yeah. They like to poke around in our mounds. And they don’t even ask!”

            “Yeah, they’re pretty weird. But they do have spaghetti. They sit around big tables when they come back from driving around all day looking at lions. Mom says one of them gave her some spaghetti a long time ago and ever since when she comes around, they give her more.”

            “Wow! Free food? Your mom’s pretty smart.”

            “Yeah, she knows everything. Where’s your mom?”

            “Back at the mound. She never leaves it. But she’s pretty busy. I mean, she is a queen.”

            “Your mom’s a queen? Does that mean you’re a prince?”

            “I guess. But it’s not as good as it sounds. I have millions of brothers and sisters, so I don’t get to see my mom very much.”

            “I don’t have any brothers or sisters, so I see my mom all the time. Maybe she could be your substitute mom. You know, for when your mom is busy being queen.”

            “Yeah, maybe.” Bill looked as his feet and scratched his antenna. “I better be getting back. My mom will send a soldier to come get me if I stay out too long. See ya.”

            Over the next weeks Orville and Bill hung out in the burrow, making jokes and wondering about the world.

            “Hyenas. I mean, what’s so funny all the time? It makes them seem crazy,” said Bill.

            “I know. And giraffes. I mean, seriously, how’s the weather up there?”

            “Exactly. But I guess we look pretty weird to all of them. I mean, I’m so little I could hide behind a grain of sand,” Bill said.

            “And check out my weird little mouth. It takes forever to eat!” Orville said.

            “That’s because you’re an anteater. Your mouth is perfect for that.”

            “Yech. Eating bugs is gross.”

            Bill paused for a moment, then said, “You know, I’m technically a bug.”

            “Termites are bugs?”

            “Yep.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Oh yeah. A few weeks ago, my mom’s sister had her mound broken into.” Bill paused, not sure if he should continue. “By an anteater. She ate hundreds of my cousins.”

            “Oh, that’s too bad,” Orville said. He thought for a moment then added, “I don’t think I could ever eat anybody.”

***

            The next day when Bill arrived, Orville was crying.

            “What’s wrong?” Bill asked.

            “I tried to eat some wood and now I have a splinter in my tongue!”

            “Why did you eat the wood?”

            “I don’t want to eat bugs, so I figured maybe I’m a vegetarian. I can hardly talk it hurts so bad!”

            “Show me, maybe I can get it out.

            “I can’t, it’s way back there. Oh man, it really hurts.” Orville kept on crying and rubbing the side of his face.

            “I’ll go in and get it,” Bill said.

            “What?”

            “I’m a termite. Who better to find a piece of wood? It’ll be easy.”

            “Are you sure? What if you get stuck in there?”

            “I’ll just crawl out through your nose. No problem.” Orville laughed at this, then winced in pain. “C’mon. Stick out your tongue and I’ll climb in there. Easy peasy.”

            Orville stuck out his long, sticky tongue and Bill climbed into his mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” Bill said.

Orville could feel Bill walking back toward the splinter, but more than that he could taste him. The flavor was overwhelming. Orville’s mind whirled, and his stomach did flip-flops. Then he felt Bill tugging on the splinter and it took everything he had not to bite down. Suddenly, the pain was gone. A huge wash of relief fell over Orville, making him feel sleepy but also very happy. He stuck out his tongue and Bill appeared, triumphantly carrying the splinter.

“What did I tell you?”

“Oh, thank you. I feel so much better,” Orville said, staring at Bill.

“You’re welcome.” Bill tossed the splinter aside and as he looked up noticed Orville’s intense gaze. “Are you okay? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“When you were in my mouth,” Orville swallowed and nervously flicked his tongue. “I have to tell you something.”

“Sure. You can tell me anything.”

“You taste terrible. Like how hyena’s smell. It’s totally gross.”

“Well, the inside of your mouth isn’t much better. Have you ever heard of brushing your teeth?”

“My mouth’s too tiny. I can’t get a brush in there.”

“That makes sense. Well, you probably won’t be eating any more wood, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“No kidding. It’s only spaghetti from now on.”        

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