In Search of Goliathus Hercules

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In Search of Goliathus Hercules Page 23

by Jennifer Angus


  “I remember when these were taken. Where did you get them?”

  “Father left them in the village for safekeeping before he entered the uncharted jungle. He said he would pick them up when he returned.”

  Henri’s mother nodded and put the photographs on the table. She picked up her teacup and tried to take a sip, but as she bent her head down, her tears fell into the cup. She placed the cup back on the table and put her head in her hands. Prince, who had ambled over to the photographs, suddenly opened and closed his wings in rapid succession.

  “Stop it,” Henri said to Prince in insect language. He got up from his chair and put his arms around his mother consolingly.

  “Why? Why did he go? Why would he go into the jungle all alone?” she cried.

  “I don’t know. It’s a mystery.” Henri was crying now too.

  “What do you think happened? Do you think he was killed by an animal?”

  “I don’t know, Mother. I don’t think we should speculate. There’s nothing to be gained from it. It will only make us more unhappy.”

  As he said it, Henri knew that privately his mother would torture herself, wondering what had befallen her husband, just as he did. Even more hurtful, though, was the thought that Father would do something so reckless and leave his family behind without a word.

  She looked up. “You’re right, of course. I don’t want to imagine it.”

  Henri knelt beside her, and she put his hands on her shoulders. “Well, I have my son still. We have each other,” she said bracingly.

  “Yes, Mother, you have me.”

  They held each other for some time. In the meantime, Prince marched about the tea table. He knocked over the sugar bowl and the little milk jug. Climbing onto a plate of neatly arranged buns, he speared the pastries with his horns and tossed each and every one of them to the floor. Then he snipped off the heads of the flowers that had been placed in a small vase. He seemed to get some satisfaction out of knocking Henri’s teacup to the floor where it smashed to pieces. Despite the commotion, Henri and his mother ignored him.

  Finally, Henri stood up. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He could see her bracing herself. “I suppose you’ve noticed some changes in me.”

  She didn’t try to deny it but nodded her head and said, “Yes, I have. Are you all right? Have you seen a doctor? We can call for one.”

  “I’m not sure who can help me. I’ve talked to Professor Young about it.”

  “He’s not a doctor, Henri. He’s an entomologist. How can he help?”

  “Well…” Henri removed his gloves and his turban. His antennae sprang up and, as usual, began to explore their surroundings, unbidden by him.

  Henri’s mother gasped. “What are those?”

  “Antennae.” Sighing, he said, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that, though.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his third set of limbs.

  “Ohh!” cried his mother.

  With that small cry, two things happened, one after the other. Henri’s mother fainted, slumping from her chair to the floor. And then Prince took to the air and began to attack Henri.

  Suspicious Behavior

  “What the devil is going on here?” bellowed Maestro Antonio.

  Drawn by the commotion of crashing plates and Henri’s shouts in insect, Billy, Robin, and Maestro Antonio rushed in. They found Henri’s mother lying unconscious on the floor among shattered bits of chinaware, and Henri standing in the middle of the room, his face and arms bloodied. Prince whizzed through the air, grazing Henri again and again.

  “Stop! Please stop! I will not fight you. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you,” said Henri in insect. “What’s wrong? Please tell me!” Prince took no notice and continued to swipe at Henri each time he swooped by.

  “You see! You see! I told you not to trust him!” yelled Billy. He grabbed a pillow and tried to swat Prince with it.

  Robin ran to where Henri’s mother lay. “I think she fainted!”

  The others paid no attention. Maestro Antonio had picked up a pillow too, which he used as a shield, slowly edging toward Henri. Billy continued to run about the room, cursing in insect as he tried to whack the beetle. Sometimes he threw the pillow, but he missed Prince every time. His efforts only succeeded in causing further chaos as he broke a lamp and a china figurine.

  Finally, Robin yelled in insect: “Everyone stop! Prince, come here now!”

  To everybody’s surprise, the beetle flew toward Robin.

  “Watch out!” yelled Billy. But he needn’t have worried. Prince landed two feet away from her and stood still.

  “Prince, what are you doing?” cried Robin in despair.

  Maestro Antonio quietly walked over and turned on the hearing-aid machine so that they could all hear his response.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Nothing?!” said Robin hysterically. “This doesn’t look like nothing. Why are you attacking Henri? Why is Henri’s mother unconscious on the floor?”

  The beetle chose to ignore the first question. Instead he asked, “Will she be all right?” Prince moved closer to Henri’s mother. There was a collective intake of breath.

  “Take another step, you dirty bug, and I’ll finally have the perfect excuse to squash you!” said Billy, pillow in hand.

  “Billy! I don’t think he means to harm her, do you, Prince?” asked Robin.

  “No, I would never, ever hurt her. She’s…she’s Henri’s mother,” the beetle said.

  “All right. I believe you. I think she’ll be fine, but why were you attacking Henri?” she asked.

  Prince looked at Robin and then at Henri. “I was upset with him.”

  “Why?” asked Henri.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” the beetle said.

  “Someone get a damp cloth. Let’s get Henri’s mother on the bed,” said Robin.

  Together Maestro Antonio and Billy lifted her while Henri fetched a cloth for his mother’s forehead. They all gathered around the bed, including Prince. In fact, much to everyone’s alarm, he flew and landed on the pillow right beside Henri’s mother’s head.

  “How dare you? You must have a death wish,” said Billy. “If you hurt her in any way…”

  “Stop it, Billy!” said Henri. “Prince, what are you doing there?”

  “Nothing!” the beetle retorted sulkily.

  “You already caused her to faint once,” said Billy. “She’ll probably faint again when she opens her eyes and sees your hideous face next to hers.”

  “You’re right. I am hideous.” Prince crawled over to the next pillow, but he was still close to her face. “But it wasn’t me who caused her to faint. He did.” He tossed his horns toward Henri.

  “Yes, it’s true. I…I told—well, showed—my mother what’s happening to me. Um…I guess it was a little more than she expected.”

  “Obviously!” said Prince. “You should have done it more gently.”

  “Well, it’s too bad Henri didn’t consult with you on the best way to break the news,” said Billy sarcastically.

  “He should have,” said Prince simply.

  “Why you—” spluttered Billy.

  “Forget it, Billy,” said Henri. “Prince, are you going to tell me why you’re upset?”

  “No.”

  “I see. I’m sure you’ll understand then when I say that it’s very difficult to trust you. I would appreciate it if you move away from my mother. If you don’t, well, I’ll be forced to do something I don’t want to do.” Henri spoke with a new firmness in his voice.

  Resignedly Prince spread his wings, flew back to the tea table and, of his own accord, entered his cage.

  “I think it’s best if you stay somewhere else tonight,” said Henri.

  “No! I don’t want to. Please let me stay here. I’ll stay in the cage. You can even lock it. I—I promise not to cause any more trouble. I’m—I’m sorry for hurting you, Henri.”

  The beetle did sound sincere. H
enri looked at his friends. Robin and Maestro Antonio shrugged. Billy snorted.

  “You’re hiding something. You can’t fool me!” said Billy.

  Henri sighed. He walked to the tea table and locked the door to the cage. “Prince, I think perhaps we need some time apart. You and I were cooped up together in the ship’s cabin for too long. You’ll have to stay with…with Tony tonight.”

  “Can I come back here tomorrow?” Prince asked mournfully. He looked deflated and smaller in his cage.

  “For the next few months you’ll be staying in the queen’s building at Earl’s Court during the exposition. I’ll see you every day.” Henri tried to sound cheery.

  “Will your mother come to visit?” asked Prince.

  Henri was surprised by this question. Prince was very fond of Robin, so perhaps the beetle preferred females, but Henri couldn’t see how he could have formed an attachment to his mother already.

  “I’m sure she’ll want to visit once she gets over her shock about me,” said Henri.

  With that, Maestro Antonio picked up the cage and walked to the door. Robin and Billy helped Henri tidy up the room and then left for the night. Henri pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down beside his mother. He felt worn out and baffled. What was wrong with Prince? Why was he so upset? Had seeing Henri with his mother somehow remind him of his own family he had left behind?

  Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Henri leaned forward in the chair and rested his head on the bed, using his arms as a pillow. He was almost asleep when he felt his mother take hold of his hand. She gave it a squeeze and whispered, “Everything will be fine, Henri. I love you, son.”

  Henri didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled and whispered back, “I love you too.”

  A Star Is Born

  This year’s exposition, titled the British Empire Exhibition, was primarily focused upon scientific discoveries from the colonies. The insect circus featuring Goliathus hercules was the most eagerly anticipated exhibit, but there was also the Indian jungle designed by the renowned taxidermist, Rowland Ward. Many looked forward to a glimpse of the Victoria Diamond, a massive gemstone that had been discovered in South Africa.

  There were amusements as well. As Henri, Robin, Billy, and the maestro entered the building, they saw a poster announcing:

  Fortune-Telling and Eastern Mysticism

  Be serenaded by gypsies!

  Authentic Moorish Camp

  Exotic North Africa

  Rickshaws were for hire to take visitors around to all the attractions. There was even a house of distorting mirrors, just like at the circus.

  “It’s like going home!” said Robin.

  “Indeed it is. Just like old times!” said Maestro Antonio.

  The show had opened, as it had so many times before, with the pyrotechnics of the fireflies. Starbursts and pinwheels were followed by the strains of the insect orchestra’s rendition of “God Save the Queen.” Robin once again performed her dance with the butterflies, and the fleas jumped to new heights in their routine.

  Finally, the time had come for the new act! The glass tank that held the three rings of the insect circus was quickly removed and replaced with a wooden table. Upon the table were stacks of colorful paper. Maestro Antonio walked to the center of the stage and began his introduction.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight it is my pleasure—no, my honor—to introduce to you our newest performer. Only recently discovered in the deepest jungle of British Malaya, he is an insect so rare, so mysterious, that many believed him to be but a mythical creature!

  “But be not afraid! Those who approach him with respect and understanding will discover a noble creature, the rightful king of the jungle! Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Goliathus hercules!” roared Maestro Antonio.

  From the ceiling, Prince descended with his enormous wings outstretched and skimmed the heads of the audience in a menacing fashion. Many people cried out and raised their hands to protect themselves. Prince did two furious circles, and then, with his sharp pinchers, he began to cut the dangling threads that held up little bags of sweets above the audience. There were cries of surprise and then delight as they fell into the laps of the spectators. When all the threads were cut, Prince landed gracefully on Maestro Antonio’s shoulder. The audience gasped.

  Maestro Antonio remained calm. “Ladies and gentlemen, Goliathus hercules!”

  There was wild applause and even a standing ovation.

  “We actually call him Prince, after Prince Charming,” said Maestro Antonio with a chuckle. The audience twittered nervously. “Yes, he is fearsome looking,” he added.

  At this comment, Prince gnashed his pinchers together, which sounded like a pair of rusty scissors opening and closing. Many in the audience shrieked and grabbed the hands of their companions. A child started to wail in fright.

  “Now, now! There is no need to fear him. Let us not forget that we have dubbed him Prince. And indeed he is as charming as his namesake!

  “Prince—and most insects—are preoccupied with many of the same concerns as we humans. They wonder about where they will get their next meal. They are concerned about providing a safe home for their families. And yes, like us, they wonder about the weather!” The audience joined the maestro in laughter.

  “Did you know that most insects are quite fastidious in their grooming habits? They are not the dirty creatures they are often portrayed to be! In fact, Prince is really quite cultured.”

  Maestro Antonio made a little nod toward the insect on his shoulder, and to the audience’s amazement, he seemed to bow back.

  “Now, as you will no doubt be aware, our expedition party has recently returned from the tropics. I apologize that my appearance today is a tad untidy. I think this would be an excellent time for a mustache trim.”

  The audience laughed. Maestro Antonio withdrew a small mirror from his coat pocket and looked at himself. Then he gave instructions to Prince in insect, and spectators gasped as the beetle’s pinchers carefully and quite expertly trimmed the maestro’s mustache.

  “Well done! Why thank you, Prince!” said the maestro, looking into his mirror as the audience applauded. I couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

  Maestro Antonio continued: “Goliathus hercules is most certainly the king of all insects, and since lions don’t live in the forests of Southeast Asia, I think it is quite fair to dub him king of the jungle! What are the qualities we expect of a king? We expect bravery and extraordinary skill on the battlefield. Goliathus hercules has both! We will now do a demonstration that will illustrate his agility, his exceptional coordination, and just how sharp those horns really are!”

  Billy came out with a slingshot. Supplied with ammunition of red grapes, he shot them quickly and randomly up into the air. Prince took flight from the maestro’s shoulder. Zooming above the audience’s heads, he easily skewered the grapes on his horns. Once Prince had a grape, he took aim, tossing it off his horn and into the open mouth of Maestro Antonio, who had sat down on a chair and put his head back to catch it.

  “Delicious!” he declared. The audience roared in delight.

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our grand finale! A king should not only appreciate the arts but also practice art himself, shouldn’t he? Insects build hives of wax, nests of paper, and enormous underground cities. Perhaps we humans have not always appreciated their creativity and their efforts, but I believe you will be truly impressed at the virtuoso talent of Prince! Please proceed, Your Highness,” said Maestro Antonio with a low bow toward Prince, who had landed on the wooden table among the stacks of colored paper.

  Robin, who now stood behind the table, picked up a long, narrow sheet of pink paper and folded it in half many times over. Then she placed it in front of Prince. Suddenly there was a great flurry of little pieces of paper in the air as Prince snipped, poked and chopped at it. When he was finished, he stepped back. Robin picked up the paper and, with a wave, unfolded it to reveal a chain of delicate pape
r dolls.

  The audience cheered. People stood up and yelled “Bravo! Bravo!” and “Encore!”

  Robin placed another folded piece of paper in front of Prince, and again he quickly snipped. This time, he had made a lacy snowflake. The audience loved it and called for more and more. Finally, after Prince had cut a dozen patterns and creatures out of the paper, Maestro Antonio stepped forward.

  “Is he not a true artist? In fact, is he not the most noble, the most regal, and the most remarkable creature you have ever seen?”

  The audience rose to their feet for a standing ovation.

  As Robin handed out the paper cutouts to the children in the audience, Maestro Antonio concluded by saying: “It has been our great pleasure to present this scientific and educational spectacle to you this evening. As you depart I remind you to be kind to our six-legged friends. A beetle could be someone’s mother and an ant could be—well—someone’s aunt. Insects contribute to our lives in ways you may not have considered. I ask that the next time you go to swat a fly or stomp on an anthill, you pause and think of what you have learned here tonight. We should treat all creatures, be they big or small, in the manner we would wish to be treated ourselves. Good night and thank you!”

  A Prince Revealed

  During the next two months, the insect circus performed daily. Maestro Antonio had decided once again to change the name of the show.

  “We’ll call it Secret Lives: Mysteries of the Six-Legged World Revealed,” he announced. “I think it better reflects our educational mission.”

  Everyone, including Prince, agreed to the name. An insect had not been so involved in the show since the late Sophia the flea. There had been no further outbursts or acts of aggression from the warrior insect. Nor had there been any sign of Agatha Black. They supposed that a case of the jitters had caused Henri and Robin to imagine they’d seen her that day when they were first welcomed back to London.

  As far as the public knew, Henri was convalescing from a variety of tropical diseases, each more horrible than the last. In reality he was always backstage working with the performers. In between shows, Henri worked on writing his account of the expedition, as well planning a butterfly sanctuary the queen had commissioned.

 

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