Butterflies with Edward

Edward loved his butterflies and moths. He would spend hours at the local park in Redfield collecting, cataloguing, and taking pictures. If you went to the park, you knew Edward. He always shared his latest acquisitions with anyone that was in his immediate eye shot.

Mr. Jones was the only exception. He was also known by the community of Redfield as the “grumpy old man” of the town. Jonesy had a special bench he preferred to sit on. No one else dared sit next to him.

The last person to feel his wrath was the Thomason’s ten year old daughter. She was playing on the merry-go-round, fell off, and ended up with a gaping wound on her knee. His answer was to pour a bit of bourbon from his flask to help with the disinfection. His philosophy was “If you don’t want to rub dirt on it, try some bourbon”.

“One swig for your knee and two swigs for me.” Needless to say, little Sarah’s parents didn’t appreciate his help. Especially when she came running up to them crying uncontrollably with bourbon dripping down her now burning leg. When confronted he used his famous foul language to guarantee the parents learned their lesson as well.

He had been complained about by almost everyone in the town. The person he hated the most was Edward. The way he bounced around the park in his Hawaiian shirts, catching bugs. Edward knew better than to talk to him about his beautiful flying friends and crawly caterpillars.

This all changed when a Phyciodes tharos, or the Pearl Crescent, butterfly landed on Mr. Jones bench. Edward had been following it for several minutes waiting for it to land so he could get a picture.

“Why are you so close to my bench? You never come over here by me,” Jonesy barked.

Edward ignored Jonesy and his rantings. He was focused on the pattern of the black, orange, and brown on the wings. It’s orange antennae and large size suggests it’s a female. This was the first one of the year for him so he was very excited.

“Go away before I squash your bug.” Jonesy demands.

“Do you see the way it moves it’s wings up and down to keep it warm? This one hasn’t been out of it’s chrysalis for very long. If she can avoid the birds and humans it should make it the season.” Edward educated Jonesy.

“Does it like bourbon?” Jonesy asks

“Actually they do. Put a drop in your hand and I’ll put him on you.”

Edward slowly wraps his hands around the butterfly. Jonesy pulls out his flask and puts a small puddle of bourbon in his hand. Edward carefully places her on his hand. The orange and black beauty quickly begins to suck up the bourbon a little at a time.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Edward inquires.

“It really is amazing. How will it fly if it’s drunk?” Jonesy asks him with a smile.

“He’ll look like you do when you get up to leave. All floppy and stumbley.”

Jonesy lets out a huge belly laugh. “I don’t stumble; I move with the earth.”

“You can’t feel the earth move.” Edward corrects him with a strait face.

“Enough bourbon and you can feel everything move. Haven’t you ever been drunk before?”

“My parents have told me never to drink.”

“You’re at least in your thirties. What do you mean your parents tell you not to?” Jonesy asks with a stern face. “In the military, we were drinking at eighteen. You wouldn’t last two days in the marines.”

“My parents say I’m too old to join the military.”

“They’re probably right about the military but I think you’ll do fine with one drink.”

Jonesy hands Edward his flask. “Now just sip it like the butterfly. Don’t get carried away. I don’t want you spitting it out and wasting good booze.”

Edward takes the flask and puts it to his lips. He takes a huge gulp like it’s soda. “No, no, it’s burning my throat and tummy.” Edward paces around then takes his water from his bag and gulps it down.

“You’re fine. It was just one swig. I can’t believe you’ve never had a drink before. Sit down next to me and tell me more about your boozy butterflies,” Jonesy demands.

“My favorite is the Red Admiral because it’s mainly black with orange stripes. I always thought it should be called the Orange Admiral because it’s orange not red. I have a picture of it if you want to see.” Edward pulls a binder from his backpack and flips to the first page. “You see, I like them so much it’s on the first page.”

“Hmmm, admirals are in the navy. They drove us to the fight and dropped us off. A marine couldn’t dominate unless the other branches drove us around.” He says while laughing.

Edward only smiles at Jonesy’s joke.

“I guess you had to be there. What else do you have in your binder?” Jonesy flips through his binder. Edward points out some of his favorites as they flip through. “Did you take all of these pictures?”

“Yes, I did. Mom and dad take me on vacation, and we always look for local butterflies.” He takes a photo out and flips it over. “See this one I took right here in this park on May 4th, 2023. I write on all of my pictures, so I know. When I get this one developed, I will add your name so I will always remember this day. You are much nicer than my parents said.”

“Of course I am! I’m the sweetest old man in town.” Jonesy replies with a huge smile. “You should stop and talk to me about your butterflies more often. It’s nice having someone to chat with that’s not afraid of me.”

“I would really like that Mr. Jones. I can bring you more butterflies that want a drink of your bourbon.” Edward says as he gathers his things in preparation of leaving.

“Sounds good Edward and call me Jonesy.”