Lightning in the Garden

A Story by Paris Hlad

The Thoughts of an Elevated Firefly

Not too many fireflies are like lightning … But I am.

Ever since the critically-acclaimed spectacle of my nationally-televised circumcision, people have been amazed by how quickly I can get from one place to another. But hey, sometimes great things get off to a super-nutty start �" And anyway, it all really goes back to my days as a show bug and a nighttime illusion called “The Lightning.” You see, what happened in that stunt was that I would be up in the air, stage right, making this very showy light display, while my twin brother Abel waited, stage left, with his lights off. Not a soul could see him. Then I’d turn up the glow juice and strike this exaggerated action pose that suggested I was about to rush over to that part of the Garden where Abel was floating around unseen in the darkness.

Suddenly, I’d kill my lights, and Abel’s would go on,

Creating the illusion that I could fly like lightning.

It was a gigantic crowd-pleaser

Because it involved the miraculous.

That was its magic!

All Abel and I did was look alike

And wear matching costumes.

Still, the mind sees what it wants to see,

Maybe what the mind must see �"

Because most realities are pretty uninspiring,

If not existential downers.

But here’s the thing. I could do The Lightning … alone. I’m that fast. Or maybe I should say I was that fast because I’m even faster now. I’m pretty sure I got picked off by this crazy-looking flycatcher a while back, and I’ve been going through a bunch of major changes. I’m not complaining because this lady everyone calls the Gardener seems to have adopted me or something and really appreciates the bug I am. She may even love me, and the truth is, I’d do anything for her. I guess I’ve become something like her pet because she likes me to follow her around everywhere and occasionally asks me to recreate some of the tricks I used to do. She’s the best fan a show bug could ever have: The kind of girl that makes you feel good about yourself, even when you’re not on stage or maybe doing some shtick that no one seems to like.

Anyway, my name is Simon, and I have something to say about this unexpected love affair between Andre De Foi and Garden butterfly Myrina Gabrielle. I’m supposed to be this colorful bridge between the stuff Andre has already said and the events that will come a little later. But before I get into that, it might interest you to know a very odd thing I learned while performing The Lightning years ago: The audience always preferred The Lightning when I did it with my brother. When I did it alone, I always got mixed reviews; maybe because it was a little too fast or because the audience preferred being dazzled to seeing the actual thing. But the solo performance never really caught on, so we had to drop it from our repertoire.

Maybe the first thing you should know is that almost no one takes Andre that seriously, and yet, the Gardener seems to love him. She played a big part in his escape from the hive and his first encounter with Myrina. Truth is, the lady’s a sucker for a crazy arthropod like him and occasionally asks me to get updates on his activities. She gets a real bang out of my reports and always says things like, “Well, Andre has a good heart” and “Oh, dear, what will that bee do next! In fact, I’d have to say that the Gardener seems to be as interested in Andre as she is in me, and she even seems to admire his efforts to forge a more intriguing persona. But look, Andre is like the biggest dreamer in the world, and he can really set himself up for an emotional catastrophe. When he wants something to be true, he begins to think that it is true. His life is like a storybook with a bunch of different ways it can go, but he thinks he’s already figured out the ending, even though he’s only read a few pages. So, all the whatnot that comes later gets interpreted according to what he originally wanted to happen. Because of that, he’s rarely on the same page with physical reality.

For example, take Andre’s description of the “magic night” he spent with Myrina. He says they “loved wildly,” but the truth is only that Andre slept next to her like a baby, and was up early, buzzing around a mimosa tree like a miniature helicopter. The “magic” and “wild loving” are pretty much just in Andre’s head. But you can’t feel completely sorry for the guy because he’s not so good at looking at things from someone else’s perspective. For instance, if I were him, I’d be a little worried about having shot off my mouth about Myrina in such a flowery way. Some bugs view that as a sign of weakness and almost always take advantage of it too. But I guess that from Andre’s perspective, he was just reporting good news or something. Now, I don’t know Miss Gabrielle that well, so what her take was on all this is something I can’t really say. I can tell you that she has a reputation for being something like The Lightning in her relationships. But I can also say that when I told the Gardener about Andre’s interest in Myrina, she smiled kind of knowingly and said, “Thank you, Simon, I think they are a good match.”

Maybe there’s another thing too. There’s this rose I know who told me a very interesting story about Myrina that involves a time in her life prior to her metamorphosis. I guess what happened is that she got kidnapped by this gang of delinquent scolopendra who mistook her for a better-looking version of themselves. Trouble is, when these guys figured out that she wasn’t one of them, they got mean with her about it and tried to make her into their slave or something. The rose called one of those dopes a fabricant de vers and said she eventually got the Gardener involved in this. The long and short of it are that the offenders got dragged off in like a thousand pairs of leg irons, and Myrina turned into a butterfly.

The rose also told me that this mess has a lot to do with Myrina being the kind of high-maintenance celebrity she is today �" You know, not too affectionate or trusting �" Maybe demanding the upper hand too much, or wanting things to be “just so.” But here’s the thing: The rose says that the Gardener has her keep a special lookout for Myrina and that the two of them are very tight. It's all super-psychological or whatever, but I’ll tell you this, every time I think of those poisonous goons in leg irons, it cracks me up, big time! That’s the way the Gardener is: She’s like sunshine, but man, you better hope she doesn’t get involved when you screw up too much like those guys did. Apparently, even the class Chilipoda eventually pay for their crimes.

But what doesn’t crack me up is how some bugs think that a temporary state of existential consciousness is equivalent to a divine go-ahead. One of those goons, Frenchie Costello, is someone I know, and guess what? He was actually a very nice bug when he was a kid. I was really floored when I heard he was involved in that stuff because Frenchie’s mom was a very devout lady, and his dad was a Ruins Hill police officer. I mean, go figure!

The Wreck

Having Betrayed My Fealty to God,

With Only the Intention of Pleasing Others,

As Rough Fish Are Thought to Muck Up a River

By Francis “Frenchie” Costello

Like one sweet blush of innocence,

Life swirled into my trap,

And like a ghoul, I took it up

To cradle in my lap

It struggled, wriggling in the sun,

And sparkled till it died,

And I regretted what I’d done