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Monks and Ants

Duncan Whitmire

    There was a Buddhist temple on an island in Japan. They practiced a universal love for all creatures, and for all humanity, and for all things. One day a colony of fire ants moved into the Buddhist temple. Fire ants do not love or hate anything. When they bite it is extremely painful; the skin swells and itches like murder.
    An attempt was made by the monks to entice the ants away with a trail of sugar leading into the forest. A neighbor brought in a special vacuum cleaner that would pick the ants up so they could be transported back into the forest. Still, the colony remained; the biting continued. Displacement failed.
    One brother was stung and slapped his thigh in reflex, smashing the ant. Other monks succumbed to weakness also. Shame and frustration infiltrated the temple like an odor.
    The youngest monk became afraid. He was afraid of his urges, afraid for those who could not suppress theirs. More than anything he was afraid his brothers would start to leave.
    In secret, he devised a plan. He spoke with a woman from the nearby village when she came to donate food to the temple. The next day the monks were going on a hike. The young monk’s plan called for him to complain of a stomachache, a lie brought to fruition through his anxiety.
    He met the woman and she gave him a small package. Saying a prayer, he used the aerosol can to spray the cracks in the floor where the ants entered. In elation and fear he sprayed a column of fire ants directly. They died twitching because of suffocation and neural failure.
    Fresh tears and the lingering chemicals stung the young monk’s eyes. He decided to burn a stick of incense to clear the smell, but as he reached toward a candle to light it, his hands betrayed him. He knocked over the candle and stood paralyzed as it rolled across the floor toward the insecticide can.
    To the young monk, the resulting explosion was the voice of an angry god. The flames were small at first, but the young monk had fainted and now lay collapsed on the floor; his body had fallen into a perfect child’s pose.
    And in the next valley over, the first of the hiking monks looked over his shoulder to see black smoke reaching into the pale morning sky.

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