I follow the marching trail of ants back to the main entrances to their nest. They’re almost translucent in the sunlight, harmless-looking little things. You’d never think they could cause such pain. “I’m sorry,” I say. I pour the pyrethrin over the nest, into the holes, and into the trash bag containing the groundsheet.

I didn’t know whether the fire ant nest would still be here, in the northwest corner. But I thought it probably would. They’re territorial creatures. It was difficult for me to listen to Lauren’s cries, to hear her pain as they stung her. But it was necessary—she has to learn.

I have to admit that Lauren is much better, these days. There have been no repeats of that time at the mall.

I stand in the center of the glade, which is also the center of the pattern. A pool of sunlight falls there. I greet the gods and feel their power. They reach out from where they lie beneath the forest floor. It’s like being tugged in different directions by slender threads. Mommy is right. As soon as my arm is better I have to find them a new home. People are beginning to feel them. That family got way too close.

As I climb my front steps I notice that they’re bare. The wind has blown them clear of leaves and such. That won’t do. If people come up to the house I need to hear it. What I do is, I crush a couple of Christmas ornaments and sprinkle them over the steps. This produces a crisp high tinkle that gives me plenty of warning of approaching visitors. It’s not dangerous. People wear shoes. I mean, I know I went out in my bare feet the other day but most people don’t. That’s just a fact.

As I’m scattering the broken shards of fiberglass I catch movement at the corner of my eye. I turn to look, hoping I’m wrong. But I’m not. The newspaper is gone from one of the downstairs windows in the abandoned house next door. As I watch, a pale hand pulls more yellowing newsprint away, leaving the window unlidded like a dark deep eye. The sash is pushed up and a business-like hand dumps a panful of dust out of the window. Then there comes the sound of vigorous sweeping.