The Butterfly

By Ryan James Robinson

In the tradition of the acclaimed film “The Red Violin,” The Butterfly by Ryan James Robinson tells the tale of one special element, the migrating Monarch butterfly, as she weaves towards her destiny across landscapes as varying as the characters she meets, touching each with her beauty and grace.

This butterfly, born to a very special generation, embarks upon a monumental voyage from the glistening blue shores of Lake Superior on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to the ancient Oyamel forests of Michoacán, Mexico. Join Emmeline on her 2,500-mile journey across this grand continent, and the lives she encounters along the way, in this heartwarming tale full of optimism, redemption, and hope.

At times humorous and ironic, other times filled with despair and love; Jim, a lost soul at the depths of his barrel learning about grace from an unexpectedly wise nomadic hobo; Culver Thornbriar, a disgraced artist seeking redemption on the wing; Paul, a minuteman unaware of his own immigrant past. The narratives woven together through Emmeline’s travels will leave you with an unforgettable memoir of this remarkable natural journey.

If you enjoyed Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout and Blackbird House by Alice Hoffman, you’ll love The Butterfly by Ryan James Robinson.

“A fresh and heartfelt approach to a natural phenomena we all know about (the migration of the Monarch Butterfly) but have not explored, and the stories of people it encounters as it stops along the migratory path. Beautiful verbal imagery.” – DT

“The story is thought provoking, captivating, and has diverse characters. It has a lovely compassion that runs throughout the story...a breath of fresh air.” – Niloo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan James Robinson
• Release date: Jun 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463114988

Ryan James Robinson

Ryan James Robinson is author of the esoteric classic The Butterfly and the cult phenomenon Bootlegging Kind. When not engaged in outlaw activity, such as growing copious amounts of cannabis, he likes to write stories. He lives with his wife and daughter somewhere on this relatively small globe of ours. He also likes birds.

Book preview

THE BUTTERFLY

RYAN JAMES ROBINSON

The Butterfly

Ryan James Robinson

Copyright 2021 Ryan James Robinson

Published by Ryan James Robinson

License Notes

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 – The Nomad Lives Inside Her

Chapter 2 – An Incident on Odin’s Swimming Hole

Chapter 3 – American Vagabonds and a Twenty-First Century Hobo

Chapter 4 – The Butterfly Man, Cheers, and the Desk

Chapter 5 – An Animal Alignment

Chapter 6 – Love Reimagined

Chapter 7 – Struggling in Paris

Chapter 8 – Paul Revere Hunts the Coyote

Chapter 9 – To Traverse the Sierra Madre

Chapter 10 – The Day of the Dead and the Forests of the Sacred Fir

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

In the far northern reaches of the US of A, an amazing and awesome spectacle of the natural world was beginning to take place.

Yet another day began, and the sun slowly jolted skyward, bathing an inconspicuous milkweed plant in a warm mid-morning glow. A sudden gust of wind pelted the weed’s girth. Near the top of the plant, on the underside of one of its largest and greenest leaves, hung an egg so small it could hardly be seen by the naked eye. The leaf twisted in the wind but the egg, tightly fastened to its intended spot, was steadfast, and Mother Nature’s blow failed to knock it from its lofty perch.

No witness was there to marvel but, as had happened in countless generations before, the egg began to tear open. After a heft of struggle a caterpillar emerged, a caterpillar smaller than the tip of a fine-point pen.

The minute caterpillar took in her natural surroundings for the first time, completely unaware that a potential for greatness lurked in her future. Her awesome destiny glistened across a country and then some, across grand waterways and sandy wastelands, across vast recesses of the American continent, across a land no stranger to great migrations, across more than two thousand miles. For now the only thought that consumed her was the amazing hunger afflicting her microscopic frame, and eating would be all she was aware of for the first few days of her life, for her species were voracious eaters and she needed to grow big and strong for the next stage of her metamorphosis.

Natural elements were climaxing, jumbled together in a web of growth embodying summer’s awe. Amidst the emerald layers, the small caterpillar fed herself incessantly on the leaves of the milkweed plant she had been born upon. Days fluttered by just as they had for eons. She grew expeditiously and had already shed her skin three times in the first week of her life. In this brief span she had managed to increase her size hundreds of times.

A few days later, during another brilliant and sun-soaked day, the caterpillar shed her skin for the fourth time and was now a reasonable two inches long. She continued to devour leaf meal at a rambunctious rate as new thoughts started to enter her tiny mind. She would need to find a suitable place to sustain her for the next stage in her life cycle, a thought that continued to encroach on her otherwise single-mindedness.

She gulped what would be the last bites of her life and then, very unceremoniously, set out into the big unknown.

˷

The boys were awake early. Michael helped Jan into the heap of a chair that his brother had the most unfortunate burden of being permanently confined to. Michael often wondered why he had been born lucky, with a strong, healthy frame and well-working legs, while his younger brother hadn’t. He couldn’t help getting mad. He would find himself wanting to punch that God-forsaken chair. Goddamn wheelchair. He spat.

Jan, on the other hand, didn’t spend a fleck of time concerning himself with his own limitations. He was always in the most jovial of moods, and this particular day, as he cozied himself into his ride, was no different.

They were off without breakfast. Quickly reminded they must be home for church at two, they went forth with the heavy curfew looming. All Michael could think about was what lingered in the hazy future of the afternoon. His inability to focus on the present wasn’t lost on Jan and he, without seeing, could feel his brother ruminating.

While Jan saw what was smack-dab in front of him, not letting a second go to waste, Michael couldn’t escape his mind’s deep eye.

His thoughts swung further away, back to early on when his life was meek, when his parents controlled his every move and tried to shape his every emotion. Striding into The Church of the Immaculate Conception, walking slowly behind the parade of entering congregants, strolling between the pine-studded pews, seeing men and woman kneeling in head-dropping fashion before making their way into the narrow rows behind the upped leather kneeling pads. There they’d sit, pull down that odd apparatus, kneel, and start to pray. Then the churchgoers would sit back in their uncomfortable seats, after crossing a right hand to the father, son, and holy spirit, look around as if their heads were spinning, and start to meagerly sing in on the hymns that dangled in the stale air from the upstairs organ. He remembered feeling absolutely out of place, a stranger in a foreign land, trying in vain to see out windows littered in stained glass filled with scenes of Roman scrutiny.

He was in that same place now, it was all he could see.

God, I hate church, mumbled Michael to himself.

Don’t think about it, countered Jan.

How can I not?

Think about something nice.

Like what?

What about that beautiful tree, said Jan, gesturing to a mammoth oak softly dancing in the breeze.

Yeah, a tree, snickered Michael, looking right through it.

They made for the path through the woods. When they reached the crest of the hill, Michael locked on to Jan’s chair to help him downslope.

I got this, Jan said to his brother.

Are you sure? asked Michael, with concern in his voice.

Absolutely.

Michael let go and then wheels reacted to gravity. The slide started. A sudden rush of wind, a wallop of pine and earth. Jan relished it in, the flavor of the landscape. A primal smell, rank and old – handfuls of old leaf and straw – the sweet rot of nature.

Trees whizzed by. Speed. Pinholing eyes. It was a total sensory barrage.

The ground, harsh in its unforgivability, darted past. It was jagged. Sharp. One perfect dent, long enough crack, a rock protruding just enough, and it could all come unglued. It was in these glorious moments – but precious seconds – that he lived, really lived, like so many others might but take purely for granted. Pain was life. It was the reminder of life and how alive you were. Without risking pain, you couldn’t ever hope to truly be alive.

They traversed the remainder of the woods in silence and descended upon the abandoned copper mine as they had numerous times before. Eerie were these old buildings. Always available for a good spook. The boys had grown up with many ghost stories and other lore encapsulating the abandoned haunt. Jan looked around trying to catch a glimpse of a ghost. He slightly shivered. Michael emerged from his reverie. These mines were forbidden yet somehow the boys always gravitated toward them. It was as if they contained magnets that drew in the boys’ souls.

˷

The caterpillar was on the move. Her mother had chosen the milkweed plant she had hatched on for its advanced level of surreptitiousness. It had been a fabulous place to be born, but for some reason the caterpillar saw it as an unsuitable place to hang her cocoon. She treaded forth undaunted. The world was a very big place. After a stint through shrubbery hovering like awesome emerald peaks, the terrain opened to softer slopes more reminiscent of the rolling hills of the Appalachia. Of course, these hills were no more than a couple feet tall, but when your zenith is less than an inch, they loomed substantial. Beyond the lolling thrust and an array of abandoned timber castles from the ages of titans, lingered the immaculate waters left by a recent glacial retraction. This immense freshwater heave was certainly impassable in her present state, so a spot for the chrysalis would have to be found before then.

˷

To trek down the shaft, that was the question. The dark tunnel – the descent into the abyss. To test a boy’s bravado. Most of the cavern had been filled long ago. But a portion had been left as a ghostly reminder of the past. It would make their mom’s heart tremble if she knew what her eldest and youngest were up to. But boys will be boys. For Michael, defiance was the norm. But for Jan, the idea of being deceitful to his mother was overwhelming. The only thing in the world powerful enough to detract him from his faithfulness was the mine. It was the unknown – going forth into a world scary and full of doubt. He would wash the gloom with his inextinguishable light.

Jan mounted his brother’s back. The shaft was no place for the likes of a wheelchair. Michael revealed the small flashlight he had hidden from his folks and pointed the beam ahead. Then he began to creep. Michael was strong as an ox, thought Jan. What a specimen. Of course, Jan knew Michael didn’t see himself that way.

As the tandem moved forth in the bleakness, Jan further reflected on his brother. He thought about what he might be thinking as he swept down into the dark. To slay. Slay the dragon. Slay the monster. Slay the enemy. Slay anything that got in his way. He’d cut the whole world in half if he had half a chance. Anger. It was the emotion that Michael most easily went to. Disadvantages were what he saw from his life. Mike never saw the tremendous gifts that had been bestowed upon him. Jan was sorry for Michael. Sorry he couldn’t shake the glass-half-empty mentality.

After a decent trek down into the cavern, they ascended back up the shaft until they were again enveloped in a rampant summer sun. Michael put his brother back in the chair and then went about a mock battle with a battalion of invisible foes. And then he spotted something.

The beast before him shuffled slowly. Michael looked down on it with a deviant smirk and tried to determine how he would vanquish it.

˷

It felt like a day perfectly suited for survival. How could anything go wrong in such a pristine environment? Unfortunately, the plot the caterpillar now occupied was a swarm of potential threat. Down the chain of evolution, a menagerie of different fauna lurked in that very acreage. Within a six-hour window several species of birds, an amphibian, a