On The Continuous Motivation Of Laborers

__On The Continuous Motivation of Laborers__

There are times when on garden walks, or indulgent struggles with grass, that I ponder the rose. Was it enough to be without equal? Or, like the beauty queen who is unapproachable but wanting, does the rose long for a lover to seek it out—with a blade?

Anthropomorphic Sequence

The Author

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         “Do you see how they work?”

         “Work, work, work,” the colorful beetle said to the rather boorish looking human standing beside him.

         “They work all day, and they work all night for us.”

         The human considered the huge insect’s words.          They were true, of course, but what the human really wanted to understand was, why?

         The smaller, dull-colored insects that comprise the majority of the hive perform their small miracles non-stop, day and night, over and over. They move and rework the earth, while larger, brightly colored beetles oversee operations.

“But why do they work for you?” the human asks.

“Hmm, why, you say?” the beetle mutters, while taking a lumbering turn to face him. "Why indeed."

The beetle studies the human while it guides its antennae, one at a time, to its impressive pinching mandibles, and cleans away the dust and grit produced from the excavation taking place below. "Are you considered stupid where you come from,” he asks the human, whose face flares bright red at the seeming impertinence of the question.

He shifts nervously back and forth on clumsy feet and considers stomping the beetle, squashing him like a—. But the Overseer is more than half his size, so he controls himself. "Not at all. In fact, I’m considered—."

The beetle interrupts him, "Never mind all that. Clearly, you can’t be as stupid as you look." The Overseer sighs and no longer cares to speak with the human.  He is tired of instructing him. So, he looks away disinterested and takes to studying the activity below. The enormous crater being excavated has been tailored to serve the needs of the larger beetles by their smaller, dull cousins. The human persists and interrupts his reverie.

           "Don’t you know?” he asks, reaching out and tapping the multicolored carapace of the giant insect.

           The beetle, with remarkable display of speed, pivots on its six legs to face the human, obviously agitated and deeply offended by the contact. He lifts the protective carapace at his back and begins flapping cellophane-like wings. The human retreats several paces to a safe distance, but remains unimpressed with the Overseer's display. In fact, inwardly, he gloats at having returned an insult, however small.

The beetle senses his bluff is not having the desired effect, so he quickly folds his wings and lowers his bright chitin carapace over them.

"Well?"

           The beetle began grooming one of its six legs. "No, if you must know, we don’t remember why they work for us. None of us remember the reason,” he adds, with more than a little indignation.

         “And neither do they,” the human responds.

           The Overseer turns from the human and sighs again. "It’s been so long," he says, in a tone that reflects confusion.

The human moves to the edge of the enormous crater to stand beside the large beetle and looks down at the bustling workers. Far below, some workers gather outside one of the myriad tunnel entrances. There is some additional commotion to be seen, activity not associated with their normal endeavors. It is difficult to see clearly what was transpiring; the distance is too great. But it appears to the human that one of the dull worker insects is communicating with a group of idlers. They surround him.

         A droning hum erupts from the Overseer who begins spinning in agitation, and his brightly colored carapace starts to flutter. The human stands and steps away from him. In the space between two heartbeats, the beetle emits a deafening shriek, a decidedly insect sound. The human covers his ears and recoils in agony. The Overseer then launches himself from the ledge of the huge crater and with a swift and beautiful series of maneuvers, opens its wings. Taking a steep, spiral course, he glides to the depths of the crater. The human seats himself once again at the edge of the crater, watching as the Overseer lands on his lowly cousin, the agitator.

         Using his superior strength and large lobster claw-like pincers, the Overseer quickly flips the smaller insect to its back exposing the soft underside. The human watches as the larger, brilliantly colored Overseer tears the insides of the worker from its shell, and drops them on the ground at its side. A frenzied buzz quickly gathers around the gutted worker.

         The distance from the edge of the vast crater to the carnage below is too great for him to hear clearly what seems like insect shouts and arguing, but he imagines they are part of the exchange taking place between the workers and the Overseer. The whole thing is over in moments. The workers, with low-slung heads and grimy carapaces, return slowly to their work while a few make the effort to carry the dead insect’s empty shell away. Others quickly eat what remains.