Page 27 - Fables volume 2

Sloth’s Progress

“Slow down!”
“You talking to me, Shaggy? You know ant lingo?”
Forced to be economical with words, the sloth replied, “Yes, been
studying it for years. Now, stop and talk to me or I’ll squash you.”
The insect halted, antennae waving in all directions, looking wildly
for an avenue of escape. None presented itself; the sloth, having
carefully chosen his victim, had isolated it in a corral of claws and fur.
“Okay, you got my attention. What is it? I’m in a hurry.”
“I’m well aware of your destiny. It won’t take long. This is a major
inconvenience for an ant, occupying a significant portion of your
time on earth—but to me you are just the latest in a series of
hundreds of ants I have interviewed. I need to know what it’s all
about: tell me.”
“You mean everything? The whole shebang? Why are you picking
on me? I’m just doing my job. Why don’t you go pester the queen?
Maybe she’d take time out from the nursery to answer you. She lives
a lot longer than I do.”
“But not anywhere as long as I will,” rejoined the sloth. “And I
cannot gain an audience with Her Majesty. I have many more years to
live, and it troubles me that I do not have answers to the basic
questions: why are things the way they are, and not some other
arrangement? Why am I a sloth and you an ant? Is this tree all there
is—or are there others?”
“How should I know?” The ant protested. “You are obviously a
deep thinker with an easy and idle existence: I’m just a worker
without leisure time. Again I say: why ask me?”
“It’s not just you. I’ve interrogated many others of your species,
anonymous clones one and all; I can almost predict your responses.
Perhaps it is hopeless. I have no one else to quiz; another sloth might
come along someday, or it might not. You ants are streaming by on
these branches every day. But the reason I bother spending any of my
precious energy on discussing the big issues with you tiny creatures is
precisely your brief existence. I am in my middle years and have

26