Bluster County Blues: Leroy the Butterfly: Interview With a Gadfly
"ἓν οἶδα ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα hèn oîda hóti oudèn oîda.
I know that I know nothing."
-Socrates
Author's note: I sat down with Leroy in Adams Park, on the north side of the center fountain. We spoke for a few minutes over a leaf and a Coke during lunchtime. We talked about his long life, his loves and his losses. Now into his third week, this old butterfly knew any day could be his last. Our vigorous conversation belied his relative stillness as he latched onto a bench's backrest.
Where Leroy the Butterfly was born is hard to say. He told me, "I was just one of the rag-tag brood born in an untended garden." That didn't help much, but it was enough. He made it around town, and pretty much knew anyone who was anyone.
"My brothers, Leon, Lonnie and Louie, see, now, they are class acts. Not for me though. I grab my lunches on the run, you know, here and there. They are part of the Washington Street Regulars Dinner Club, snacking on Brussels sprouts by Wheaton College. Well la-di-da. I'm a cabbage moth, not some highfalutin book readin' knickerbocker. You won't see me shaking my swallowtail. Give me a good slice of fresh leaf, sun-ripened and still growing in the dirt. That's enough finery for me."
Leroy was a Small White Butterfly (that's Pieris rapae for those of you at home keeping score).
"Don't tell me that I know nothing. I know everything worth knowing. Anywhere the wind blows, baby, and these wings of mine will take me there."
Leroy's vagabond ways had led him down streets few butterflies see, to the mayor's office, and some places he chose not to describe.
"Yeah. I won't lie to you. I've been around. I'm smelled more than my fair share of gardens. I've been up and down the Union Pacific line, from College Station to County Farm Road. I got stories."
He paused to chew, and began talking again before he finished.
"I was there when the blue Chevy crashed into the Lincoln at President and Forest. I can tell you who stopped and who drove, and which driveway they both came out of. There's blue paint where there used to be red. There is a brunette in a Corolla involved too. That's all I'm saying."
"I was there when the Amlings Flowers truck drove by on Main Street on Monday. Oh, that sweet, sweet smell," Leroy said with pleasure, finding some kind of floral ecstasy from the memory.
"You want to know who is buying what? I know. I checked out the orchids from the shop to someone's wife off Farnham. Hitched a ride, blended in under a leaf. And let me tell you, woo-wee, is the husband in trouble! See, that wasn't the first time he bought flowers that week." He smirked in that way gossips always do.
"And I was there when they mowed the grass where that Bakers Square used to be, at Schmale Road and Geneva. I was there, and let me tell you that there's some grass I won't be eating anytime soon. There are things in there. Things in there, oh yes -- a lot of people walk by there, that's for sure. Sometimes they drop things. Terrible things." It seems even cabbage moths have standards.
The wind caught him from the bench, and he lost his grip.
"I gotta go," he said, smiling, as he followed the breeze westward.
That was the only time I saw Leroy, though, the word on the street is that he is a proud father of 70 larva over on Madison, another 150 near Hidden Lake in a ditch off Leask, and, though DNA tests are inconclusive, 50 more on the banks of a retention pond near Klein Creek. Any which make it through to the pupae stage will be named Leroy.
Say hello if Leroy flutters by. If you have some fresh leaf, offer some, and sit down for a chat. You might be surprised what you learn.
These are the days in Bluster County which give me the blues, but I would live nowhere else. The sun rises an inch higher here than anywhere else in the world, making every day brighter.
Dedicated to Peter Trendl, my son, born July 19, 2011. A true marvel: A precocious boy from the start, Peter speaks 10 languages, including jive and American Sign Language, can make 30-foot jump shots at will, is a grandmaster chess player, plays a violin with right and left hands (sometimes at once), and, if I do say so myself -- he is the most beautiful boy ever. I hope he will grow up to love butterflies as much as I do.
