The Fourth Instar

"At night, the sky remained moonless, and the mournful sounds, as much as he tried to ignore them, kept Rendi awake in his bed. He gritted his teeth in frustration. How many nights had the sky wailed? How long had be been in this village? Would a new guest ever come?" – Lin, from Starry River







7.


As they walked through the second set of glass doors and into the conservator, Crandall was not sure that what he saw in front of him was real.  Up and down, two floors of green trees and plants that he had never seen in the fields and shorelines of Madison Wisconsin.  One tree dangled long pink flowers the size of his hand.  Enormous ferns stood along the walking path and created what looked like a tropical jungle.  "They especially like these sponges," the girl said, obviously quite familiar with the display.  Small tray stands held a variety of bright colored sponges that obviously held something very sweet.  Two butterflies laid along the sponges motionless. "A Common Buckeye," she said pointing at the first. "Look at the eyes on the wings." By the now the rest of her family had quickly made their way up along the walking path to the wooden box. All around butterflies flapped, dashing to and from small plants and flowers. Many had found perches along the base of the windows in the sun.  Crandall knew that his father would like to see this place and he now felt a little bit of guilt for not telling his father where he had gone off to even though he was just across the street. "I should probably get going," he said to the girl, a bit overwhelmed by this place, this small jungle full of butterflies. "If you get down on your knees like this," she said, bending down to the floor to look at the wild orange Julia, "you can see why these are brush footed." Crandall squatted down also near the sponge stand. The two butterflies that had landed there sat virtually motionless. He quickly asked how long they lived, wondering if they might have died.  "These two wouldn't be dead," she said. "Most only live 2-4 months, but some can live up to 11 months.  Some of these in these in the exhibition might have a good long life. They might die of boredom before anything else," she said with a smile. "They use their back legs for movement, but look at the front feet, they are nearly motionless. Look really close and you will see there are scales on them. That is how they detect a good egg-laying site in the wild." The creature was quite unbelievable, Crandall thought, up live like this right in front of his very nose and not trying very hard to fly away as it seems they often do in the fields. "You know a lot about butterflies," he finally said out loud, rising up to his feet, still quite anxious at this point to leave. The rest of her family was still above along the walking path talking about near the wooden case. "Well we are butterfly travelers my dad calls us. We have been to Mexico to see the wintering sites. There are trees down there that Monarchs gather on so thick that you can no longer see the wood.  They are called sacred firs." Crandall could tell that she was about to say a little bit more about this, but that she held it back. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more just at the moment.  The girls went ahead with a little more anyway. "We believe that we have found out about a new species of butterfly." As she said this, she looked around the room, something like a spy, seeking overhearing strangers hidden in the tropical plants. "We think one of them was sent here to Olbrich Gardens by accident. That is what we are doing here right now," she said excitedly, her eyes beginning open wider and wider as she spoke. Just then her little brother tapped her on the shoulder from behind. "We are going to keep going up to the top they said. It's time."