We Are the Ants(77)

“Diego didn’t smash up Marcus’s car. I did.” She spit out the words fast, sending them hurtling toward me like photons from the sun, and I didn’t see them coming until they blinded me.

“You?”

“Me.”

“But . . . why?”

Audrey shrugged like committing a felony was no big deal. “Marcus McCoy is a dick, and you’re my best friend.”

I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Audrey had busted the windows of Marcus’s car. For me. “You could have gotten arrested.”

Maybe it was only the shadows, but she loomed over me in her driveway that night. She carried herself like a warrior, and spoke as fiercely. “I did it, and I’d do it again.”

I leaned my head on Audrey’s shoulder. “Thank you.”





Bees?




The phenomenon is first observed in France. The year is 1994. Bees exposed to a new type of pesticide known as neonico-ti-noids exhibit confusion and odd behavior. Bees often abandon the hive, leading to the collapse of the entire colony.

In 2006, United States beekeeper David Hackenberg reports to Congress on an unexplained phenomenon known as Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD) that had spread to over 70 percent of the bee populations in the country. The cause is yet unknown, but there is speculation linking it to pesticides, fungicides, mites, and parasites.

In 2013, CCD contributes to the deaths of 60 percent of all hives. Scientists speak out against the use of certain neonicotinoids, and some countries limit or ban their use on crops, but the rate of collapse remains unchanged.

On 29 January 2016, the last hive of honeybees, located on an almond farm in California, succumbs to CCD.

The price of orange juice skyrockets overnight. Blueberries and almonds disappear from shelves. Onions become impossible to purchase. Within the first year, many common fruits simply vanish. Their juices, stored in tanks, become more precious than caviar. Pumpkins become too expensive to carve on Halloween.

The effect of the loss of honeybees ripples to other crops. Coffee becomes a luxury few can afford. Worldwide food shortages lead to riots. The economies of states and countries that depend on honeybee-pollinated crops collapse shortly after the hives.

The United States is the first. Unable to feed its people, unemployment soars to more than 50 percent. Disease runs rampant because few can afford health care, but starvation remains the number-one killer. Other nations soon follow.

War, famine, and death become the rule of the planet. The poison that caused the collapse of the honeybees spreads to the human population, and, just as the bees did, humanity goes slowly mad.





25 December 2015


Grief is an ocean, and guilt the undertow that pulls me beneath the waves and drowns me.

I woke up in Audrey’s bed, clutching my throat, gasping for breath. In my dreams I was drowning. I was in Jesse’s bedroom. It still looked the way it had when he was alive, except the ocean was rushing in to fill it. I tried to keep my head above water, but Jesse was at the bottom, pulling me down.

Light streamed through the windows. Audrey was deep asleep, hugging her pillow, a shirt covering her face. It didn’t feel like Christmas morning. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep until the end of the world, but I needed to go home before my mom realized I wasn’t there.

Rather than wake up Audrey, I left her a note and borrowed her bicycle. Her house was only a couple of miles from mine, and the ride gave me time to think. A little about Jesse, but mostly about Diego. I’d screwed everything up. He was right that I shouldn’t have had to ask him if he was responsible for smashing Marcus’s windows. I should have trusted him. I wasn’t sure if he’d accept my apology, but I needed to try.

When I reached home, I was sweaty and out of breath. I dropped the bike in front of the duplex. Mr. Nabu was watching me from across the street. I waved; he waved back. I wondered how many times he’d seen me sneak home in the morning wearing nothing but my underwear or a trash can lid.

I figured I’d peek through the window to make sure the rest of the house was still asleep before I snuck inside. When we were kids, Mom had discouraged me and Charlie from waking up at dawn on Christmas morning by instituting a rule that the first person out of bed had to make breakfast for everyone else. By the time we hit our teens, it was a competition to see who could stay in bed the longest. Usually, we didn’t get around to opening presents until after noon.

I eased into the bushes and spied through the window. To my surprise, everyone was awake and gathered in the living room. Mom must have picked Nana up from the home early, and they sat on the couch together. Zooey was relaxing in the recliner next to the sofa, and Charlie had his back to me, digging around for something under the Christmas tree.

Mom clapped her hands and held up a chef’s knife. The knife I bought for her. They were opening gifts without me. Had they gone into my room to see if I was awake? Did they even know I wasn’t home? I was about to storm inside when Charlie stood in the center of the room. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Zooey’s hand flew to her mouth as Charlie took a knee. He slipped a ring on Zooey’s finger, and she threw her arms around him and kissed him. I imagined her shouting, “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you,” acting like it was a surprise even though she had to have been expecting it.

I couldn’t believe he’d proposed to Zooey, and I’d missed it. He hadn’t even waited until I was awake. They were opening presents and proposing without me.