Do you have time for a short butterfly story?

If you enjoy it, maybe you could share it.

Have a happy day.

~gail

Butterfly Nudges or (A Different Kind of) Frozen

I took a deep breath and squinched my eyes closed for a couple of seconds.

When I opened them, I expected everything to go back to normal.

But it didn’t.

My best friend, Lyssa, was about to sit next to me on the grass—legs bent, backpack mid-drop.

Three grapes were about to sail through the air out of Perry’s hand—one on the tips of his fingers, the others a few inches away.

The music teacher was about to toss a basketball into the hoop as he crossed the playground—frozen on one foot, a basketball in one hand, a plastic recorder in the other.

What is happening?

I stood and waved a hand in front of Lyssa’s face.

Nothing.

She was completely frozen in place, just like everybody else.

“Got it,” I said to nobody but me, thinking I should be a little more freaked out.

If you don’t read as much as I do, you probably would be freaked out.

But I’d just read about something like this in a book.

So it didn’t seem too farfetched.

Before all this happened, I’d been watching a butterfly and waiting for Lyssa to get her pizza in the cafeteria and come sit with me on the grass.

I was chewing the cuticle on my thumb and agonizing over something: I’d caught Lyssa cheating on her spelling test this morning.

Mrs. Wagner had chosen me to monitor the test because I had already passed the practice one earlier in the week, which meant I didn’t need to take it again.

Blah blah blah.

You know how that works.

But I saw Lyssa cheating.

Lyssa isn’t a great speller—she’s more into bugs and chemistry than spelling—but I didn’t think she’d ever cheat.

As monitor, I was honor-bound to report Lyssa to the teacher.

I almost didn’t do it.

But I pulled up my big-girl britches and wrote what I saw on a sticky note, attaching it to her test when I collected them.

That was the easy part.

Now I was alligator-wrestling with whether I should tell Lyssa that I saw her.

Not only saw her but told Mrs. Wagner.

Maybe Lyssa didn’t need to know it was me who ratted her out?

But you’re right, that doesn’t explain why everyone was frozen.

Or why I was the only animated person anywhere.

Sure was nice to have some quiet time to think, though.

In that book I mentioned, there were these kids who were able to stop time by freezing everyone into statues.

They used that to their advantage and found some diamond thieves for the police.

So my situation was a classic opportunity to do something important, too.

Right?

Probably not diamond-thief important.

But something.

Could I go back to yesterday and change the outcome of my Family and Consumer Science midterm where I burned my biscuits?

Nah, that would be wrong.

Plus, I didn’t know how to go back in time.

Weird that just thinking about doing something wrong like that made the butterfly come fluttering right in front of my eyes.

It looked totally angry, too.

Its antennae were wobbling, and its wings changed from brilliant orange to angry red.

I pulled my head back.

The butterfly was an interesting twist to this whole situation.

It seemed likely to me that it was a key element here.

“Not a good idea?” I asked it.

I swear I heard it say, “Pzzzzat,” before shaking its antennae at me and drifting away on the next wind current.

Unhelpful.

There must be something I could do with this chance.

How often does something like this happen in real life?

Exactly never, would be my guess.

The only good thing I could think of doing was go back to Mrs. Wagner and untell her about Lyssa.

Except that didn’t seem right either.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the butterfly making another beeline (a butterfly-line?) for my face.

I held up my hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. I won’t!”

But what could I do?

I tapped my lip with my finger.

Then I knew what I needed to do.

First of all, I had to tell Lyssa that I saw her cheat.

I stood up, clapping my hands right next to her ears to try to unfreeze her.

Nothing happened.

“Do you know how this works?” I asked the butterfly as it fluttered back.

“Pzzzzat,” it said again.

Lyssa was still frozen.

“I really need to fix something.”

The butterfly bobbed in my face.

“Lyssa needs to know I caught her cheating AND maybe I can help her study AND then maybe she can retake the test AND clear her name.”

I was winging this whole state of affairs, but I swear that butterfly stared at me as if looking into my soul.

“I promise, I won’t let her cheat again.”

I crossed my heart with my finger, and the butterfly landed gracefully on the tip of Lyssa’s nose.

“—lunch lines get longer every time there’s pizza. I’m not waiting.” Lyssa sat down on the grass and began rummaging through my lunch bag. “Can I share your—” She picked up my peanut butter sandwich. “Whatever this is.”

I stared at her. “Ummmm, Lyssa. Notice anything weird?”

“What?”

“Everyone but us is frozen,” I said, stating the obvious.

Lyssa’s eyes grew wide as her head pivoted.

“I figured we could use this opportunity to make something right,” I said.

Lyssa caught on quick.

She’s no slouch in the brains department (only spelling).

“We can go and change all our midterm grades!” she said. “Ooooh, we can go in and draw pictures on the white boards! Oh, even better, I can go get some pizza now. All we can eat!”

I do love pizza.

But I spied the butterfly changing from orange to red and heading in my direction.

“You are not my conscience!” I said to it.

The butterfly changed direction.

Maybe it was my conscience.

“I didn’t say I was!” said Lyssa, who of course didn’t know I had started talking to butterflies. “So what are we going to do first?”

Lyssa stood up, but I grabbed her hand. “None of your ideas,” I said. “Listen to me.”

“You sound serious,” she said.

I took the deepest breath in the history of deep breaths.

Then in one long exhale, I said, “I-know-you-cheated-on-the-spelling-test-this-morning-and-I-told-Mrs.-Wagner.”

Lyssa jerked her head like I’d hit her.

“You told on me?” she whispered. “How could you, Brandy?”

“I had to! I was the monitor. Plus, it’s not right what you did.”

Lyssa’s eyes shined with tears.

“Everybody cheats on those stupid spelling tests. It’s just spelling!”

She yanked her hand free from my grasp. “I thought you were my best friend.”

“I am! I’m the best kind of best friend.” But I felt lousy.

“It’s not like I hurt anybody,” Lyssa said.

I put my hands on my hips.

“You hurt yourself!”

“No, Snitch. I would have hurt myself if I didn’t cheat and got an ‘F.’ Now, thanks to you, I have an ‘F’ anyway.”

Lyssa walked away through the throng of motionless kids.

She stopped and turned back to me.

“Make everyone move again!”

I shook my head.

“Not until we fix your cheating.”

I knew I didn’t have the power to unfreeze them, but Lyssa didn’t have to know that.

I checked the time on the clock tower.

We only had a short time before Mrs. Wagner bounced for the day.

Spelling-test day was her leave-early day.

If she left before we took care of this mess, it would be too late.

Lyssa would be a cheater and Mrs. Wagner would have entered her grade into “the system,” where grades are locked away like prisoners on Alcatraz Island.

Forever.

“We have to hurry and do this, Lyssa,” I said. “I have no idea how long the school will be frozen.”

Lyssa went to a group of kids and shook each one by the shoulder.

They didn’t budge.

“Uuuugh!” Lyssa growled at me. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re my friend and if you cheat on something as small as a spelling test, it’ll just be easier for you to cheat on bigger things. You need to clear your name.”

I’d known Lyssa since we were three, so I waited patiently for her to agree.

“Fine!” she yelled.

“Don’t be so smug,” she said when she saw my smiling face.

I wiped off the grin.

Hoping we had enough time, we practiced the spelling words until Lyssa glared at me.

“I’m not doing this anymore. I hope you’re happy.”

The butterfly flew right into her face, waggling its antennae.

Lyssa sent it tumbling.

“It’s not about me,” I said. “And if you think it is, then there’s no point in doing this.”

Lyssa heaved a sigh and held out her hand.

“I hate it when you’re right. Let’s get this over with.”

I grinned into my palm.

“We have to get the butterfly back. How do you call a butterfly?” I asked.

If anyone knew the secret language of butterflies, it was Lyssa.

“Do something wrong,” she said. “Duh.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s how you call a butterfly. Do something wrong, and, if there’s a butterfly around, it’ll be right in your face.”

What science book did she read that in?

But I looked at what was left of my peanut butter sandwich, then at Perry, the bully who was about to launch the grapes.

I nestled the gooey sandwich in my hand, ready to smear it all over his face.

The butterfly returned, flapping near my nose and turning from orange to red.

I put down the sandwich.

“You’re right!” I said to Lyssa.

I sure hoped Mrs. Wagner was still in the classroom after all this.

The butterfly wafted along with us as we ran through the halls, laughing at the different positions kids were frozen in.

One girl was mid-stumble on a Sharpie pen, so I kicked it out of her way.

A boy was mid-sneeze.

A teacher was holding her coffee cup all catawampus, so Lyssa stopped to straighten it before it spilled.

We jiggled the handle of Mrs. Wagner’s classroom.

“Please, please, please let Mrs. Wagner still be here,” I whispered as I opened the door.

A couple of students were frozen on their way out, and Mrs. Wagner was frozen right behind them.

I sent the butterfly to unfreeze the students.

It landed on their noses.

The kids unfroze, shrugged, and left the classroom, where the butterfly immediately froze them up again.

Then the butterfly settled on Mrs. Wagner’s nose.

She sputtered and looked at Lyssa and me curiously.

“You need to go to lunch, girls.” She hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “And I need to get out of here.”

I jabbed Lyssa in the ribs.

“Umm. I wanted to let you know that I might have cheated a little on this morning’s spelling test,” said Lyssa.

“Might have? Or did?” Mrs. Wagner asked, although she probably already knew the answer.

Her eyes followed the meanderings of the butterfly.

“I did. But I’m really sorry. I was hoping I could take the test again?”

Mrs. Wagner raised her eyebrows.

“I was just about to enter the grades in the teacher’s lounge. My computer’s on the fritz. Why should I let you take the test again?”

Lyssa looked at me.

Good question.

I fidgeted with my hair.

“I think Lyssa deserves a second chance because—Oh, I know! Because isn’t the important thing that she knows how to spell the words?”

Mrs. Wagner tilted her head.

“That’s one of the important things. The other important thing is not to be rewarded for doing something wrong.”

Oh. There was that, too.

“Tell you what, Lyssa,” Mrs. Wagner said, watching the butterfly somersault. “It took courage to confess. I’ll let you retake the test, but you have to promise never to cheat again. And I’m only going to give you half credit.”

“I promise,” Lyssa said. “But only half credit?”

“Take it or leave it,” said Mrs. Wagner. “Right now, you have a zero.”

“I’ll do it,” Lyssa grumbled.

“I’ll put the grades in tomorrow. Brandy, you can give Lyssa the test in the library.”

Mrs. Wagner went to her desk and rifled through some papers before pulling out the list of spelling words.

She took a pencil, tapping the desk with it, the butterfly hovering near her shoulder.

Finally, Mrs. Wagner wrote something on the paper and handed it to me. “I added a word.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wagner,” we said.

Lyssa and I walked to the library as the butterfly did its magic and began the process of unfreezing

the entire school, nose by nose.

“Thank you for doing all this for me.”

Lyssa took my hand and squeezed it.

I like to think I would have helped Lyssa even if the school hadn’t been frozen.

But sometimes it takes a tiny butterfly nudge and some quiet time to figure out the right thing to do.

By the way, guess what word Mrs. Wagner added to the spelling test?

Nope, it wasn’t honesty.

And it wasn’t butterfly.

It was lepidoptera.

Look it up.

Guess what else.

Lyssa knew how to spell it!

Like I said, she’s really into bugs.

Everyone is good at something.

~The End~

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