Henri heard a chorus of thank-yous and general chattering. “He’s here! He’s right here in our field. Oh, I must go and tell my brother. He won’t want to miss this!”
Feeling even more embarrassed now, Henri turned away. Helping the little boat on the creek seemed the smallest of gestures at the time, but to the insect world, his actions were deeply significant, a kindness they had never known. He would need to work harder to be deserving of the gratitude that the insects showed him. He envisioned himself with a calling card that would read
HENRI BELL
INSECT INTERPRETER AND MEDIATOR
ALL QUESTIONS AND PROBLEMS RELATED TO THE INSECT WORLD
WILL BE CONSIDERED
Robin
Two days after he had met Robin, she appeared in the flea-circus tent for the final show of the day.
The audience and the maestro had already left when Robin approached the glass case where Henri was serving the evening meal. She watched, fascinated, as he provided a blood drop into the waiting mouths of each hungry flea. Robin looked very different without her clown makeup. She had long brown hair with rather severe bangs in front. She was about the same height as Henri, maybe an inch shorter. She wasn’t exactly pretty, but there was something about her that was compelling.
“That was a really good show, Henri. I don’t know how you manage to get the fleas to do that stuff. It’s amazing!”
“I told you. I talk to them.” Henri had to ask himself why he was telling her the truth. Until he had met Robin, his instincts had told him not to confide his secret to anyone. Despite the excitement of the circus, he was lonely, and there was something about Robin’s smile that made him want her to be his friend.
“Come here,” said Henri. “I’ll introduce you to everyone. Hold up your opera glasses so you can see them. Everyone, I would like you to meet Robin. She’s a clown in the big top. She said she really enjoyed the show.” One by one, he introduced Robin to the fleas, who appeared to be quite excited that someone from the “big show,” as they called it, had admired their performance. Robin was quite charmed as Sophia and Maria curtseyed to her and the boys, in turn, bowed. Liora, who was still attached to the high trapeze, waved to her. (Henri was still trying to figure out how to get her down without losing her hind legs as had happened to Umberto.)
After the introductions, Robin looked up at Henri and said, “You really are speaking to them, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I told you I am. Do you need more proof?”
“Yep, I do. Why don’t you teach me to say hello in insect language?”
“Well, I can do that, but I’ve recently learned from the fleas that a more appropriate greeting in the insect world is, ‘Are you hungry?’ Their lives are short and they don’t have time for formalities. They have very immediate needs, food being the primary one.”
“So, if we were insects and I hadn’t seen you for a week, I wouldn’t say, ‘Hello, what have you been up to up to?’ I’d say, ‘Are you hungry?’”
“Right! It’s like learning the customs in another country,” said Henri. “You’ll make a good impression on them if you ask. Of course, they will say yes because they always want to eat.”
“Yes, I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression.” She rolled her eyes. “Am I going to have to give them my blood when they say yes?”
“No, no. They’ll just be happy you asked about their wellbeing.”
“OK, teach me,” Robin said.
“All right, it’s like this.” And Henri made a short combination of hisses and clicks.
“Um…Can you do that again?”
Henri repeated it several times, and Robin repeated it back to him. Finally he said, “I think you’ve got it. You have a strong accent, but I think they’ll understand.”
Robin stepped up to the case, and seeing Liora on the trapeze, she stammered out the series of sounds. “I think she made a sound back! I’m not quite sure.”
“She did. She said she’s famished,” and Henri laughed. Robin beamed. She sought out each of the fleas with Henri’s help and asked each of them if they were hungry. Henri translated. “They all say you’re very polite. They’re flattered that you asked.”
“Well, I’m just going to have to believe you because I could only hear a few faint sounds, and I certainly couldn’t understand.”
Henri paused and then said, “I never really thought about it, but I guess I have developed really keen hearing. I could hear them perfectly.” Strange, thought Henri, that he hadn’t noticed that before. “Do you need more proof?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. He knew she didn’t, really. She believed him already, but she was having fun.
“OK, come outside.” They walked away from the circus tents to where Henri had spoken with the butterflies the day before. The butterflies were still clustered around the wildflower blooms. Henri made a few barely perceptible sounds that Robin wouldn’t have otherwise noticed at all. Rising en masse from the flowers, the butterflies began to fly in tight formation around Robin’s head. She giggled as she caught sight of the colorful wings.
Henri grabbed her hand and led her to the mirrors outside the fun house tent. Robin caught a glimpse of herself and gasped to see the butterflies circling her head like a hovering wreath or halo. “They’re beautiful. Oh, Henri! I look like I’m a fairy queen.”
Henri laughed, sharing her delight. She started to skip around, glancing at herself in the mirrors from time to time. A crowd was starting to gather to watch Robin as she leaped about with her colorful entourage. She seemed to be testing to see if the butterflies could keep up with her. Henri decided that perhaps she was attracting a little too much attention. A faint whisper from his lips, and the butterflies stopped following Robin and began their flight back to the meadow.
Robin came back to Henri, out of breath. She grabbed his arm, saying, “That was wonderful! I looked beautiful.”
He laughed. He wanted to say that she didn’t need butterflies to look beautiful, but that would be embarrassing to say out loud. They headed back to the flea circus. Robin had a million questions. “When did you first learn you could speak to insects?”
“I guess it would have been about six months ago. That’s when Dom—he’s a fly—spoke to me.”
“Was he your teacher?”
“Not exactly. I didn’t need a teacher. I never studied. One day it was raining, and Dom was sitting on the windowsill reading…”
“A fly was reading! Oh come on, Henri! Stop it! How gullible do you think I am?”
“It’s true! I’m not making this up. Do you want me to answer your question or not?” Henri said a little huffily.
“Pretty please. I won’t interrupt anymore.”
“All right,” said Henri grudgingly. “So…where was I?”
“Dom was reading,” said Robin quickly. “What was he reading?”
“The newspaper.”
“Can all insects read, Henri?”
“You said you weren’t going to interrupt anymore,” Henri reminded her.
“Sorry…but can they?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think the answer is no, although they may have the ability. It’s a bit like if you never went to school, would you be able to read?”
“No, I guess not,” responded Robin.
“Dom lived with my Great Aunt Georgie. They’re friends. She may have taught him to read. She’s a bit…um, eccentric. Anyway, so I saw Dom was reading, and I asked him what he was reading about. Just like that. I didn’t even think about it. I just seemed to know what to say, or how to say it…I don’t know.”
“Wow, that’s amazing! It’s also kind of peculiar. You’re a little bit weird, Henri Bell, but that’s OK. Everyone around here is strange, which means that you’re normal. You belong here.”
“Um, thanks,” said Henri with a small smile.
“Can you speak to any type of insect? Do they all speak different languages?” Slowly Henri answered each of her questions.
Back at the tent, he pulled out the old cigar box and showed her the insects that hadn’t survived the celebration in his room after the rescue on the creek. Since then he had added a few more. Using the Insect Transformations book, he tried to identify their species. When he did, he made a little label with name, date, and the place they were from. If he knew their first name, he’d added that too.
“Some day I’m going to be a famous entomologist,” said Henri.
“A famous what?” asked Robin.
“An entomologist. That’s a scientist who studies insects.”
“What makes you think you’re going to be famous?”
“Because I’m going to capture Goliathus hercules!” A puzzled look appeared on Robin’s face, so Henri elaborated. “He or she, I guess, is a mysterious insect which lives in Southeast Asia. No one has ever caught one, and a lot of people don’t even believe it exists, but I do.”
“Mysterious like Bigfoot?”
“I suppose, but I would hate to make that comparison because I think Bigfoot is a phony.”
“Me too. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day Bigfoot joins the circus!”
They both laughed. Eventually Robin began to ask Henri about his family. When he told her about his missing father and how his mother had gone to look for him, she looked very grave. “I’m so sorry, Henri. You’re really brave to be so far from home and all on your own. I’ve never been separated from my family, not for a single night.”
“Tell me about your family,” said Henri.
“There’s not much to tell,” Robin replied. “My mother’s and father’s families were both in the circus business. Mom’s family were high fliers—you know, trapeze artists—but Dad’s were clowns. Now Mother works on costumes. I have an older sister, Eunice. She’s fourteen and thinks she knows everything. My younger sister, Olive, is eight years old, and she’s nothing but a pest. I’m sure you’ve seen them. They’re clowns too.”
“Do you like being a clown?”
“Never really thought about it. As soon as we could walk, we joined the act. It’s not really a choice. It’s, um…what do you call it? Oh yeah, an obligation. Everyone has to pull their weight.”
She sighed.
“Would you rather do something else?”
“Well, everyone wants to do the trapeze. They’re the stars of the show. I kind of have it in my blood from my mother. I don’t know…I don’t think about it much ’cause it’s never going to happen.”
“You never know,” encouraged Henri.
She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Anyway, did you know there’s going to be fireworks in town tonight? Do you want to go? My family’s going.”
“Sure, that would be great!” Fireworks. That gave Henri an idea.
“Robin, would you be willing to help me out with something?” He knew she would say yes. She was that kind of friend.
He explained that he needed more fleas to audition. “You said Billy, the lion tamer’s assistant, has fleas, but I don’t want to embarrass him or hurt his feelings. Maybe we could invite him to the fireworks, and while he’s distracted, I could send Sophia and Maria over to the hair on his head to see who might be interested in trying out.”
“Good idea! I’ll go right now and invite him. Meet you after dinner at my family’s tent, OK?”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
After dinner, Henri collected Sophia and Maria from the flea-circus tent. They jumped up and hid in his hair. As he walked over to Robin’s tent, they demanded a full description of exactly what fireworks were. When he arrived, Henri was very pleased to see that Billy was standing with Robin’s family and ready to go.
“OK, girls. On my cue…as we discussed,” said Henri to Maria and Sophia, and he walked over to join the group.
Madame Noir
Henri could only recall having seen fireworks once in his life. It had been a long time ago—New Year’s Eve in London, he thought. Tonight he was just as excited as everyone else, although he tried to stay focused on the job at hand. He sat with Robin’s family on a blanket. In fact, most of the circus folk had congregated on the hill overlooking the town to watch the fireworks display.
Henri had strategically placed himself behind Billy, while Robin sat to Billy’s left. She was prepared to keep up a continuous commentary during the fireworks to distract Billy, if necessary. At the blast of the first rocket, Henri would tip his head toward Billy, and Maria and Sophia would leap onto the hair of the unsuspecting boy. Then the two fleas would wander on top of Billy’s head in search of recruits. They were to do this as quickly as possible. When they were ready to return, they would call to Henri, who would cup his hand near the back of Billy’s head. The fleas would jump into it, much like a safety net.
Despite any loud bangs from the fireworks, he knew he would hear their voices. Since earlier in the day, when Robin had drawn attention to his sensitive hearing, Henri realized that this was not the only improved sense he seemed to have acquired. His sight was astonishing. He really didn’t even need the magnifying glass any longer to see the fleas. And when he pricked his finger to dole out the blood droplets, he could smell its rich scent himself. All of this seemed to have happened so gradually that he had not even noticed it until that very day. Now he was aware that no one else was experiencing the world with quite the same intensity as he was.
Henri had fretted over how to transport the new recruits back to the circus. “I don’t think I can trust these newcomers to travel in my hair and not bite,” he told Maria and Sophia.
“What’s a little nip? Never killed anyone,” said Sophia casually.
“Sophia!” exclaimed Maria.
“I was just joking. You knew I was joking…right, Henri?”
Finally it was agreed that everyone, including Maria and Sophia, would travel back in a matchbox.
Then there had been the question of what to do with any fleas that did not successfully pass the audition. “Easy,” said Fabio. “Return them to Billy, their home.”
“I can’t in good conscience do that,” responded Henri. “Billy’s my friend.”
“We’re you’re friends too,” piped up Giovanni. “Are you saying you like Billy better than us?”
“Yeah! Is he better than us?” chimed in Liora.
“This has nothing to with what we’re talking about. I like all of you and Billy equally. You are all my friends. What we’re discussing is finding a new home for those fleas who don’t have the talent to join the show.”
“So you’re saying you only like talented fleas?” asked Fabio.
“Yes. I mean, no!” sputtered Henri. “We can’t keep every flea who auditions for the circus. There’s simply not enough blood in my body to feed so many hungry fleas.” This at last made an impression on the fleas. A threat to their food source was serious. Finally, they reached another compromise. He would not return them to Billy but would find another human host. This presented a bit of a dilemma for Henri. There wasn’t anyone whom he felt deserved such punishment.
As they had walked over to the fireworks, he whispered his predicament to Robin.
“Oh, I can think of loads of people who deserve them,” she giggled. “I’d like to put them in Eunice’s underpants and watch her scratch! She sewed up the legs of my costume yesterday so I couldn’t put my feet through. No, wait! You know what would be really funny? Put them on Madame Noir! She thinks she’s better than everyone else, the snooty old biddy. I’d like to see her do a bit of undignified scratching!”
Putting her nose in the air and attempting a French accent, she imitated Madame Noir’s cold and forbidding voice. “I don’t want to catch you children near my tent or interfering with my business. If I do, there will be consequences!” A cold chill went down Henri’s spine as he remembered Mrs. Agatha Black, Great Aunt Georgie’s neighbor, saying something very similar.
According to the banner hanging outside her tent, Madame Noir foretold the future through palmistry, crystal ball gazing, and tea le
af reading. Since he had poked his head into her tent, he had only seen her on two occasions. Normally most performers met at the mess tent, so Henri supposed that she cooked for herself and took her meals alone.
Madame Noir mostly wore long, black satin dresses with a band of a bright red or purple at the hem. She wore octagonal-shaped spectacles with tinted blue glass, which suggested she had sight into some other world. With her hooked nose, she was not a beautiful woman, and her hair—well, it was the wildest hairdo Henri had ever seen. Her hair was frizzy and striped black and white, much like a skunk. Henri thought of the Insect Transformations book and how some caterpillars are brightly colored as a defense against predators—a warning to birds that says,“ Keep away! Poison!” Madame Noir was like that. She looked so strange and frightening that he had absolutely no desire to go anywhere near her.
“Putting the fleas on Madame Noir would be asking for trouble,” said Henri.
“Oh, I bet she’s all bark and no bite,” replied Robin.
Henri didn’t answer. He didn’t want to sound like a chicken, but he really didn’t think it would be a good idea to provoke Madame Noir.
The first blast of a rocket went off. “Wow, look at that, Billy! It’s like a million tiny gold and ruby stars. Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Robin.
“Sure is,” said Billy.
As Billy answered, Henri leaned forward. “Jump!” he called to the two fleas.
“Ooh! Look at that one. Emeralds!” and Robin started to chant, “Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and gold.”
To the fleas, Henri whispered, “Did you make it?”
“We’re here,” he heard Maria call as the screech of a bottle rocket filled the air.
Henri gave Robin a nudge and the thumbs-up sign, then sat back and enjoyed the show with everyone else. After about fifteen minutes, he heard Sophia calling his name. He gave Robin a shove with his foot to indicate that she should distract Billy again.
“Don’t you wish we had fireworks every night, Billy?” Robin asked, while Henri held up his hand to the back of Billy’s head.
In Search of Goliathus Hercules Page 8