Little Yellow Butterfly

It was a beautiful butterfly but Robin Johnson had it in a Miracle Whip jar with a bunch of grass. Any third-grade biologist knows full well that butterflies do not eat grass. Ah-doy. And that is exactly what I told Robin after show-and-tell was over. But she would not listen to reason.

Robin and I were friends from kindergarten. Her grandmother lived right across the street from me in the apartment building my grandparents owned. Robin’s grandmother was very nice. She used to feed me all kinds of cookies and pastries. And she loved to play Yahtzee. So whenever I had some time, and who doesn’t when one is in the third grade, I would head across the street for some cookies and some Yahtzee. Back then, children could roam the neighborhood freely without the fear of being abducted. That’s because everyone in Buffalo knew everyone else. And, we knew all our neighbors.

So back in Mrs. Hjemeland’s class I’m nagging Robin Johnson all morning. “You had better let that thing go or else it will die,” I repeatedly told her. Her response to each of my urgings was, “If I do, it will get eaten by a bird.” She even got emotional about it. Girls. Everyone knows that birds don’t eat butterflies. Well, I finally wore her down. She announced to everyone that at the start of recess she was going to let it go. I couldn’t wait. The thought of some poor butterfly cooped up in a stinky Miracle Whip jar was too much for me to bear. I hate Miracle Whip.

Mrs. Hjemeland dismissed us and straight out to the play yard we went. It was a bit breezy so Robin elected to stay right next to the building. She tearfully (what a wus) opened the jar and shook it to coax the butterfly out. That little yellow butterfly must have smelled the fresh air because it immediately bolted out the top of the jar. It flew out and staggered a bit. But then it flew straight up into the sky. Up and up it went. And then, out of nowhere a bird flew in and ate the butterfly, its severed wings floating away in different directions.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” she screamed as she gave me “the look.” It was the first time I ever remember getting “the look” from a girl. It chilled me to my bones and left me gasping for air. My brain shut down but my mouth kept working. “WOW! Did you see that? And it didn’t even eat the wings!”

Two weeks later, just as Robin started talking to me again, I broke some glass flowers she brought in for show-and-tell. It was quite a few weeks I played Yahtzee alone with Robin Johnson’s grandma. But there were more cookies for me. And that’s when I learned that the nice thing about guilt is that pretty soon it goes away.