In Search of Goliathus Hercules (5 page)

Aunt Georgie smiled and Henri felt encouraged. “How are you today, Mrs. Black?”

“Adequate, I suppose,” she said, which was followed by a little cough.“But the more pertinent question is: how are you? That was a nasty fall yesterday. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I wasn’t frightened!” Henri said a little too forcefully.

“Of course not,” she replied with a knowing smile to Great Aunt Georgie. Then she turned to Henri and her eyes fell to his bare feet.

“Mrs. Black is taking refuge from her home while the farm workers burn off the straw stubble in the fields,” Great Aunt Georgie said. “The wind shifted, and all the smoke is blowing directly at her house. Very bad for the respiratory system and constitution. And, of course, she was concerned about you, Henri.” The latter was said in such a way that Henri knew he was being warned to remain polite to Mrs. Black.

“Surely you should be recuperating in bed,” Mrs. Black pointed out. “What have you been up to? Where are your socks and shoes?”

Henri gulped. He was starting to feel guilty, but then he reminded himself that he hadn’t done anything wrong. The problem was, he had a secret, and Mrs. Black seemed to suspect that he was hiding something. Though it made no sense at all, Henri decided to lie. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I just polished my shoes, and I didn’t want to scuff them up, so I took them off.”

Great Aunt Georgie smiled as if he were the perfect little gentleman she was training him to be, but Mrs. Black said, “I see. Are you going to a fancy gathering this evening?”

“Well, no. I just like them shiny.” Henri knew that didn’t sound very convincing, but if he could just get out of the room quickly…

“And your socks? Was it necessary to remove them?” inquired Mrs. Black.

“Um…well, I didn’t want to get any polish on them. So I took them off…” He could feel his face getting hot.

“I see. Do you normally shine your shoes when they are on your feet?” But before Henri could dig himself a deeper hole, Mrs. Black said, “Georgiana, I do not think this young man is telling the truth. I believe he has been over at my farm. I expect he is interested in the fire. Well, let me tell you that if you play with fire, you will get burned!”

“I haven’t been at your farm!” exclaimed Henri. “I didn’t even know you were burning the fields.” He knew that he shouldn’t speak to Mrs. Black that way.

“Hmm,” Mrs. Black said calmly, but her face showed a frightening fierceness that Henri had never seen before. She moved her arms up to adjust her bun, pulling out the sharp hatpin. For a moment it was poised in the air, and it occurred to Henri that she could easily throw it at him like a dart. “Well, why don’t we see those nice shiny shoes then, On-
ree
?”

Now he was cooked! With little choice, Henri silently turned and exited the room. As soon as he was in the hallway, he started to run, pausing only for a moment to pull the turquoise button off the wall.

He was really in trouble now. Mrs. Black would see his muddy, scuffed shoes and accuse him of trespassing on her farm and who knew what else? Great Aunt Georgie would be furious that he had taken the turquoise button, but he was scared and figured he needed its special powers. Anything to protect himself from Mrs. Black!

Henri reached the back door and found his less-than-shiny shoes. He picked them up, and in a moment he was running, but not back to the parlor.

Out the door, through the garden, and down to the creek Henri ran. He sat down dejectedly on the bank. He had escaped Mrs. Black for the moment, but what was he going to do? What would Great Aunt Georgie do? Maybe she would send him home to London. That would be good, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Really, she had been nice to him. Why were Great Aunt Georgie and Mrs. Black friends? They weren’t alike at all. It felt as if Mrs. Black was always lurking about.

As Henri stared down at the water, deep in thought, his ears once again began to distinguish the voices of insects. The cicadas and crickets still cried out their entreaties, but there were other high-pitched voices coming from upstream. A moment later, a small boat came into sight. It was a toy boat, really; one that looked like it had been discarded or forgotten by a child long ago. The paint was peeling, and it looked less than seaworthy. The occupants were a motley assortment of insects—a grasshopper, a stick insect, a couple of mantises, and some kind of beetle.

One of the mantises called out instructions: “Keep her steady, more to the right. Hey, tell us what’s coming up in front.” The beetle was weeping inconsolably and the grasshopper seemed to be trying to calm her. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they got out. There was enough time,” he said.

“I wanted to go back, but the flames…It was so hot, and the smoke, it made my eyes water.” She started to cry again as the boat drifted out of earshot. Henri got up and started walking along the bank of the creek so he could follow the boat. He realized that these insects must be refugees from Mrs. Black’s fields. The fire merely inconvenienced Mrs. Black with its blowing smoke, but it was endangering the lives of these creatures and destroying their homes.

Henri continued to follow the boat. Up ahead he could see that the stream ran faster. Surely the boat would capsize in the rapids. He needed to help them! But how? At the same time, the stick insect lookout saw the rapids too. “Reverse course, reverse course!” he yelled. There was screaming and the sound of confused voices from the boat. They managed to escape the fire. Now Henri had to help them through this latest peril. He didn’t want to scare them, though. He called out, “Watch out! There are rapids ahead! Your boat is too light. It will capsize!”

The beetle cried out, “It’s a man, an insect killer, following us!” And she wept harder, her head bent low. The other insects said, “What? What’s he saying?”

“No, no! I want to help you. You need ballast, something to make the boat heavier so that it won’t tip over.” Suddenly Henri had a burst of inspiration. From his pocket he pulled out the turquoise button. Taking careful aim, he threw the button as gently as he could toward the boat. “This will help! Duck!” he yelled.

The little group saw the button flying toward them and scurried for cover.
Plop!
It landed in the center of the boat, causing it to tip dangerously back and forth. Everyone held on for dear life. As the boat steadied, the grasshopper that was the oarsman called, “That’s it! I’ve got more control now!” And with that, the little boat entered the rapids. Henri ran along the riverbank, to where the water became less turbulent, and waited. He couldn’t see them among the rocks and white water. Suddenly, they catapulted forward, spit out by the angry water. They were a little wet, but everyone was accounted for.

“Hooray!” called Henri. “You made it!”

The mantis standing on his long hind legs seemed to be saluting. “Thank you, young sir! We shall never forget this act of kindness. What is your name?”

“Henri. Henri Bell.”

“Henri Bell, I salute you! We will tell our grandchildren of the human who saved us on this dreadful day.”

“Keep the button. It’s lucky. You may need it!” called Henri. He stopped. He could go no farther along the bank. Dense bushes blocked his way. “Good-bye,” called Henri. “Good luck!”

“Good-bye, Henri Bell!” they all called, and Henri stayed until they disappeared from sight down the stream.

H
enri returned to his spot near the anthill on the riverbank. There was a frantic urgency in the air. The crew of the small boat was not the only one trying to escape the fire. The sun was obscured by clouds of insects taking to the air. There was a shrill, loud call repeated again and again by a multitude of voices. “Fly, fly, fly for your life!”

Henri felt drawn to the fray, but he knew it would be unwise to set foot upon Mrs. Black’s property. Anyway, what could he do? The insects in the air probably had a much better view than he did from the ground. No, there was nothing more he could do, and he was very sad.

Slowly he turned from the moving sky of insects and trudged back toward Great Aunt Georgie’s house. He decided to take the long way around and go through the front door. As he walked into the front hall, he noticed that the parlor was empty. He saw Great Aunt Georgie had brought in the mail, and he walked over to the hall table. There was a postcard from his mother! Underneath was a flyer that he supposed Great Aunt Georgie had put in the pile, thinking it would be of interest to him.

Stealthily, Henri climbed up the stairs, avoiding any creaking steps, and scurried as fast as he could to his room, silently shutting the door. He threw himself down on the bed and breathed a deep sigh of relief. So far, so good. No Mrs. Black. Then he heard a voice.

“Ah, you have returned! My boy, I must say congratulations! What a stroke of brilliance!”

“Who’s that?” said Henri in a nervous voice. “Dom?”

“Yes, over here on the windowsill.”

Henri sat up and moved to the chair by the window. Dom paced back and forth—like any fly—but it was clear he was tremendously excited.

“What are you talking about, Dom?” asked Henri.

“I’m talking about the way you helped those insects, the ones on the boat! You saved their lives. You’re the talk of the town, the savior of the stream, the angel of all insects, the conqueror of the creek, the hero of the—”

“OK, enough!” said Henri, though he felt a warm glow. “How do you even know about this?”

“I was there—you know, ‘a fly on the wall,’ so to speak. I overheard your Great Aunt Georgie when she discovered you were missing, so I decided to check on your whereabouts. She was worried about you.”

“Is she angry? What about Mrs. Black? Is she still here?”

“Georgie’s not angry, just worried. As to Mrs. Black, she has left. Henri, you must not tangle with Agatha Black.”

“Why?” asked Henri, his tone more anxious than he’d meant it to sound.

“It’s not for me to say. Anyway, time to get ready!”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

“Visitors!” announced Dom cheerily.

“What, more visitors? Oh no. Mrs. Black was more than enough for one day.”

“Not human visitors; your admirers from the insect world. News travels fast. We’re all abuzz, no pun intended.”

“What? Dom, I only managed to help the insects in the boat. I couldn’t do anything for the rest of them,” Henri said sadly.

“Yes, but that’s more than any human has ever done before! Henri, today men set fire to fields and destroyed the homes of thousands, callously and with no consideration whatsoever. No one came to their aid but you. It is a first. All we have ever known from man is brutality—the swat of a newspaper, the poison vapors of a spray, the crushing blow of a boot heel, a pin through the heart just to add an insect to someone’s collection.” The last two words were said with extreme distaste. “You have shown a kindness unheard of, and when you told those boaters to keep the lucky button…you wished them well. You wanted them to survive!”

“Of course I did!” said Henri with both surprise and indignation.

“Not everyone feels as you do, Henri. It makes you special, that and the fact that you are also able to communicate with us six-legged folk. Now, tidy yourself up. They’ll be here soon!” Imagine being told to clean yourself up by a fly! Henri walked over to his dresser and picked up his comb. As he sat down on the bed and began to smooth down his hair, he picked up the postcard from his mother. On the front was a picture of her in a traveling suit, and she appeared to be boarding a train. Henri turned the card over and read:

Dearest Henri,

Don’t I look smart in my new traveling outfit? As you can see, I am about to embark on a journey. Sadly, there is still no news of Father, and thus I have decided that I must take matters into my own hands. Tonight I am boarding the Orient Express to start my journey overland to Malaya and search for Father myself. Darling, do not worry. I will write regularly and let you know of my progress. I am sure you understand that I could not sit still any longer. Meanwhile, I know you are safe and sound with dear Great Aunt Georgie. Please be a good boy for her.

All my love,

Mother XOXO