Pip's One-Grain Parade

Pip snapped his dandelion-fluff suspenders and frowned at the golden wheat grain. The grain was twice his size and shaped like an angry yellow potato. If he did not push it across the warm summer field before sunset, the colony pantry would slam shut. Then everyone would eat crunchy dust soup for supper.

"One, two, grunt, shove," Pip muttered through his grit teeth.

His polished acorn-cap boots dug deep into the dry dirt. Behind him, the wooden fence cast long, striped shadows across the dirt path. Above him, tall stalks of golden wheat swayed like whispering skyscrapers. Every pebble felt like a mountain.

"Ha! Hee-haw! Look at your knees, little crawler!"

A loud voice bounced from a dandelion stalk. Flip the grasshopper hung upside down by one knee. His straw sunhat drooped crookedly over his twitching antennae. He held a twig like a microphone and shook with wild giggles.

"I am not crawling for fun, Flip," Pip said, leaning his forehead against the scratchy grain. "I am engaged in heavy cargo operations. Please relocate your knees elsewhere."

"You look like a walnut trying to roll a watermelon," Flip laughed. He dropped into the tall grass with a soft thud. "At this speed, you will finish next Tuesday! Let me provide expert aerodynamic advice."

"I do not require grasshopper advice," Pip replied firmly. He pulled a striped pine needle from his utility pocket. He checked the tiny notch marks carved along the edge. "My calculations are precise. Forty-two shoves past the small stones. Then sixteen pushes to the colony hole."

Flip snatched a dry oak leaf off the path. "Calculations are boring! Behold the Super-Slide Leaf Express! Put the grain on top. You sit in front. We slide down the hill!"

Pip stopped. His boot hovered in the air. The path did dip downward near the wooden fence. If the leaf slid smoothly, he would arrive an hour before supper.

"Are leaves safety-certified for heavy wheat transport?" Pip asked with narrowed eyes.

"Totally certified by me!" Flip chirped. He rolled the wheat grain onto the leaf with a clumsy kick. "Hop aboard, Captain Ant!"

Pip scrambled up, gripping the edge of the leaf with all six feet. Flip gave the stem a massive push with his long hind leg. The leaf shot forward across the dirt.

"Faster than a bumblebee!" Flip cheered from behind.

It was fast. It was far too fast. The leaf hit a smooth white pebble and spun in three dizzy circles. Pip's whiskers whipped back against his ears. The leaf left the trail completely, bouncing wildly across the weeds.

"Turn left!" Pip yelled, his suspenders flapping in the wind.

"Leaves do not have steering wheels!" Flip shouted, leaping along behind.

The leaf struck the base of a prickly thistle with a loud crunch. Pip flew forward into a clump of soft moss. The giant grain bounced twice, rolled under a thorny burdock branch, and wedged firmly beneath a sticky, prickly burr.

Pip brushed green moss from his velvet vest. He marched over to the burr. He pushed with his head. He pulled with his hands. The grain was trapped like a cork in a bottle. The sun dipped lower, painting the wooden fence bright orange.