Henry Beetle’s Dilemma

Henry Beetle hobbled down the road in his armored shell.  He was on his way to Grandma Beetlenan’s house, where he had been invited for afternoon tea.  Beetlenan’s place was in Upper Crustville and was buried in the hollow of a knotty oak tree.  Henry would catch the Walnut Express train, which would be leaving in twenty minutes. 

Earlier that day in Hushville, Henry’s home had come under the siege of falling acorns, and they continued to rain down in sheets on this stormy November afternoon.  Henry was unsure of what he would find when he returned home.  His mailbox had blown away in the strong winds, and he had watched as parts of his house and roof blew down the street. 

“Good day Mr. Centipede!” Henry said with a twitch of his feelers. 

“It’s very gusty here, Henry,” replied Mr. Centipede, as he swayed back and forth in the wind, holding onto a hundred clumps of moss and dirt with his many legs and feet. 

Henry hurried on to catch the train, his nervous feelers twitching as he dashed through piles of leaves.  Sometimes his feelers would meet with a falling acorn stem or piece of fallen bird’s nest, causing Henry to turn somersaults along the way.  Whoosh! Bang! Bumpety-bump-bump!!!! Over-and-over he would tumble.  Henry’s bent and tangled feelers were becoming sore as they persisted in clashing with flying debris. 

“I’ll be blown to bits!!!” Henry thought to himself. “Ouch!” he cried! 

The sky was beginning to stir, and black clouds swirled into monstrous shapes as Henry wrestled with the wind.  One cloud appeared to move toward Henry and looked like a giant, angry turtle, with head bent down, ready to snatch him up into the turbulent, scary darkness.  The dark cloud glared at Henry.  Henry became afraid, his weak knees began to quiver, and he wobbled in the wind.

As fast as his unsteady knees could carry him, Henry began to run.  He was forced to a screeching halt as he crashed head-on into a large, prickly brown mass.  As he took a step back, he saw what stood in his way was an enormous pinecone! Henry could not see a way around it. 

“Get out of my way!!!” Henry thought. “What now?” he asked.  

Henry looked around for help. In the distance, he saw an army of ants marching in unison as they carried a large twig from the littered path.  They sang a victory song as they heaved and hoed, and the twig became dislodged. 

“I beg your pardon, and I don’t mean to interrupt, but can you help me move this out of my way?” asked Henry, pointing to the pinecone. “I’m not able to get around it or over the top of it.  It will make me late for my train!” Henry exclaimed to the hurried ants. 

“We’re sorry, but we must take cover,” replied the busy ants. “Besides, it’s simply gargantuan, and it has very sharp points!!!” 

Henry groped for another idea but was temporarily distracted. 

“What in the world could that awful smell be!” wondered Henry. 

Just then, Pickyfish, the cat, who had been rummaging through streets of overturned trash, was making his way toward Henry.  There were colorful strings of fish guts dangling from his teeth, and not the strongest gale could have disguised the awful stench of his breath!  He smiled down at Henry…