by Frances Raybaud
The squirrel was running.
Huge stones, grooved by humans, loomed above. Scampering past, she had to find nuts to store, nuts the big cold was coming and she would sleep the big sleep and be gone. Leaves crunched underclaw under claw and she would find the nuts, she would, is that a nut, is that-
The squirrel skirted around a big man watching her, watching her looking for her nuts, trying to get her nuts she would go-
Oh. Many, many humans dressed in stormclouds storm clouds with rain glistening on their cheeks on a sunny day. Dark, dark, and some were shaking.
She sniffed at their shoes- one was making noise at the front, holding something. More shaking around- were they cold? But the sun – nuts, nuts she needed nuts.
She had never been this far into the human stone park before but she was running out of nuts in her own tree.
She saw a nut across the wide, wide hole and she would have to go around to get the nut, the nut for winter, nut for keeping but how to get there, how to get around the humans?
She made a sharp turn and kept racing around. if If she didn’t get the nut she would die but human feet in the way all different colors and a big boot came for her face and she was caught on its tip, falling, falling
falling.
She slammed down onto dirt, behind a great big thing of wood. But the nut? No nut in the hole, and her squeaking went unheard by the humans who began to throw dirt.
A clod of dirt hit her on the head and angrily she began to squeak louder, but to no avail. No one was listening.
And the dirt kept falling like rain.
Until the sun was gone and darkness covered the world.
The great big thing of wood still blocked her way and she stayed in the corner, cowed. Was there no way out? Would she get her nuts? Would she make it through the winter?
She did not know if it was winter yet out there when the big thing of wood began to speak.
Is anyone out there…I am, so, so alone…is anyone out there?
She chittered in response. Can you give me nuts? I need nuts for the winter.
A squirrel.
She squeaked at that. Of course I am a squirrel!
What are you doing down here with me?
I was looking for nuts.
There are no nuts here.
Why are you talking, you big dead tree? Humans always cut down trees to make new but why a big thing of wood square like the-
I am dead.
Why are you talking?
I am not a tree.
Yes, you are. The squirrel chittered angrily. I live in trees I know what they look like you are another dead tree because all humans ever do is kill and kill-
And die.
Die? The squirrel backed up against more dirt. The air was getting tighter. She had never lost air before, not even when she fell into the big pond. Then she had swum and kicked until she reached the shore and climbed back into her tree, all alone except for the chicks-but she could not swim in dirt, and she had never known a tree to speak.
Humans die, too.
What do you care? You are a tree.
I am a human. The squirrel tried to move farther away from the tree, but she was still trapped. Or I was.
Was?
Now I am dead.
Why do you look like a tree? the squirrel insisted.
I am inside this. And it’s a coffin, not a tree.
What is a coffin?
It is where we put dead humans.
The squirrel settled back on her haunches. The dead don’t speak.
I said that too.
And humans never talk to squirrels. She added.
Who else is there to talk to down here?
Down- Remembering where she was, the squirrel began to frantically scratch at the walls of dirt with her claws. More dirt fell on her, and no light appeared.
You can’t leave.
Humans cannot tell me what to do-
I am not human. I am a corpse.
The squirrel looked at the great big- the coffin, and cocked her head. Why did they put you in there?
To protect me.
But you are dead.
Good point.
Squirrels do not protect our dead. We let them turn into trees.
Humans are a little more sentimental.
What’s sentimental?
I don’t remember. I want to be alive again. You don’t know how lucky you are. I am so alone down here.
Angrily, the squirrel added: I am here!
You are a squirrel.
I know I am a squirrel and I want to leave!
I told you. You cannot.
Was it winter up there now? The corpse had been silent and the squirrel wondered if she had even heard it speak. Then-
You’re going to die down here.
I want to escape!
You’re getting weaker. How many days has it been? You haven’t eaten.
I need my nuts-
Forget your nuts. You will starve.
I can never forget my nuts! The squirrel protested. All I have is nuts! All I am is nuts!
The corpse was silent again, but not so much. And then it said- I wish I could laugh. I want to laugh again.
What is laughing?
Happiness, said the corpse.
The squirrel chittered and what is happiness?
Silent again. The squirrel considered trying to leap over the great big thing of wood to look for escape on the other side.
I don’t know., sighed the corpse.
The squirrel was smaller than she was, and she mentioned this.
Thinner, is the word.
She kept looking for nuts, nuts to bury, but she was buried like a nut so nuts must be buried nearby, taken from other squirrels, she would not be sorry a nut is a nut and a squirrel needs to live-
Don’t you care?
The corpse kept talking, asking questions, but the squirrel did not respond.
Are you there?
I am a squirrel., she thought in frustration.
I really wish I could laugh.
Need nuts, nuts for winter-
When everything dies and is gone. It is already winter.
How do you know?
I feel the chill in my bones.
The squirrel did not respond.
That was a joke, because I am only bones now.
Ignoring the corpse, the squirrel worried to herself- Will I die?
Yes. Yes, and there are no nuts in death, no nuts at all.
In time, the corpse would continue to speak, but the squirrel would not respond. Angrily, the corpse asked-
Are you there?
Finally, the squirrel responded. But it had been weeks, days, weeks, days, and when the squirrel spoke again in the darkness, it was only to say:
So only humans can live on after death?
