If I Had Words

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Chapter 64      Chapter 66

Psyche was bent over a pile of wheat, patiently picking out barley which had sprayed from a nearby bin. She had already set several of the bins upright and had scooped up multiple handfuls of grain where there had been minimal mixing. 

Psyche struggled considerably with the bins. They were heavy, even emptied. 

She had been sorting for some time and her back ached. She stood up and dropped another skirtful of grain into the bin. 

Psyche sighed. 

This wasn’t working. 

She surveyed the room and fought down feelings of defeat. How could she possibly finish her first task before sunup? She might as well reconcile herself to exile. 

How much time did she have left? 

She stepped outside to get an idea of where the sun was. A gentle breeze cooled her hot face. 

Psyche sighed. It was not yet midday, but there was still so much to sort. She estimated she had been working for several hours, but the room looked as if nothing had been touched since the Goddess left. 

It was hopeless.

She couldn’t bring herself to go back to her task just yet. She found a spot under a tree and stretched herself out flat on her back to rest. She was thankful for the feeling of the cool grass against her skin.

She felt a tickle near her ankle and sat up. 

A little ant was crawling in circles around her leg.

Had she disturbed a line? 

She gently moved her leg and tried to locate the other ants, hoping to guide the lost one back. She couldn’t see any others. 

“Where are the others?” she asked the ant, still crawling around hurriedly. “I can’t seem to find the rest. Are you here alone? Are you looking for something?”

She transferred him to her hand and tried to help calm him. 

“I’m so sorry I disturbed you by lying here,” she said, softly. “I didn’t know I’d be in your way. I’ve probably disrupted your whole afternoon. I honestly didn’t mean to.”

The ant slowed its frantic circles and eventually stood looking up at her. 

She smiled at him. It was nice to have someone to talk to. 

“I am sorry for being so careless,” she said to him. “But you see, I’ve been a bit distracted, trying to complete an impossible task. Have you ever tried to sort wheat from barley?”

She looked at him.

He was still looking up at her intently.

“Why of course you have! You’re practically the expert. I’m sorry to say I’m just no good. I can generally tell the difference in the grains, but these hands you see,” she said, offering up her other hand for inspection, “are just too big for such delicate work.”

Psyche sighed.

The ant began walking in circles again around her palm. She transferred him to her other hand to give him more space to move. 

“It’s a puzzle,”  she said more to herself than to him.

She moved to sit against the trunk of the tree, transferring the ant back to her other hand. She tried to make sure she didn’t disturb any other insects. 

He seemed to be the only one. 

Psyche could tell the ant was getting restless just walking in circles, so she lowered her hand and helped him reach the ground safely.

“It was nice talking to you. I’m sure you’ve got to get back to work,” she said. “I guess I should too.”

Psyche stood up and went back in, groaning at the heat of the building. New sweat appeared on her brow. 

Psyche tried to locate the spot where she’d left off. It all looked the same. She eventually just knelt down where she stood and started sorting again. 

She picked through the grains, carefully separating the kernels one at a time. Part-way through she realized she had shifted from picking out wheat and was now picking out barley. She examined her skirt to see whether she could salvage any of her work. 

Frustrated, she emptied her skirt to try again.

Finally, she stood with another skirtful, ready to transfer to a bin. Absently, she almost emptied the wheat into a barley bin. Thankfully she stopped herself. She gave a deep sigh of relief and cautiously transferred her skirtful into the proper bin. 

This was impossible.

Tired, she glanced over at the area where she’d been working, hoping to see some measure of progress. 

Instead, she noticed something peculiar happening among the grain closer to the door. A few of them seemed to be wiggling slightly. 

She must be losing her mind. 

She got closer and fixed her gaze on the wiggling kernels, trying to figure out what was making them move.

Ants?

Hundreds, possibly thousands of ants mingled among the grain and seemed to be spreading throughout the entire room. 

Panicking, she looked around her feet. Was she standing on any of them? Thankfully, the ants hadn’t yet reached where she stood. 

Curious, she watched a group of ants work. They had started to quickly sort and began forming piles of grain. As they made one pile of reasonable size, they would move to form another. 

They were helping her!

Psyche watched as the ants continued to form piles and then as the sorting group continued, another group started transferring grain to the bins. 

She looked around to see how she could help. 

She realized some of the bins were still on their side. She moved towards the upturned bins and the ants made space for her. She carefully cleared away stray grain and then, straining, pushed it upright. She continued, carefully watching where she was working, until all of the bins were properly arranged. 

As the ants continued to work, Psyche joined in, first offering gently, so as not to hurt anyone, and then laying down her skirt to scoop up the already-sorted piles into its folds. She carried skirt-load after skirt-load of grain to the right bins. 

Psyche and the ants worked for hours. As evening came, and the room got darker, natural lights came on above her head. They seemed to be illuminated glass, as if they had somehow captured, stored, and now reshone the light of the sun. 

She had never seen anything like it before.

On and on Psyche and the ants worked. She found herself chatting with her new friends and complimenting them on their speed.

Psyche started to see real progress as the evening wore on.

“We’re almost done!” Psyche said in disbelief as she surveyed the room. “Thank you ever so much.” 

They all kept working a little while longer until the last of the grain was put away. 

Psyche looked around the room.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” Psyche said, genuine love and gratitude filling her heart. 

Her eyes filled with tears. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.  

The ants seemed satisfied with her thanks and began filing out of the door and into the cool night air.

Psyche stepped outside herself for a moment and took a deep breath. She didn’t know how many more hours of night she had left, but she decided it would be wise to get some rest. 

Wrapping herself in the folds of her dress, she found a space among the bins and went to sleep.

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