Wednesday, July 21, 2004

The Moth in the Fish Tank


1983. Summer. The Bible says the days are evil but these are just plain torrid. So for the last couple days there’s been a visitor on the back porch. They say he’s a moth, but he looks more like a butterfly with big velvety wings. Autumn colors, like the carpet and furniture in our living room. We kind of adopt him just as we did the goldfinches that frequent our feeders. They eat Niger Seed. Comes from India. These are the days when Dad gets home from work and immediately fills the evening running the log splitter. All I know is that the noise splits my head until a storm comes. This moth is so docile. He sits there on the picnic table and finally crawls into a fish tank we’d just decommissioned. These are also the days when Tuesday nights mean Happy Days gearing up for its final season. I never miss it. That Jenny Piccalo sure fascinates me despite being so nonchalant and annoying. So why do I ignore the girl next door with the same description? As I watch the moth her house is behind me. Her dad told us what kind he is but I forgot the name. Then one night something a little weird happens when he makes a pool of white liquid on the glass. Mom says it’s a scent so he can attract a mate. Still, my initial thought made my heart sink. I assumed the fluid of life had missed its chance and I had to sit down for a while and actually choke back tears. But, I guess if that’s only the welcome mat then there’s still hope. Why do I care? And why is she such a pain? We used to goof off all the time but now she’s like this giggling grinning googley-eyed bag of hormones always telling me I don’t know enough about, well, sex I guess. Just where’d she pick up this Jack and Diane crap and who the heck told her she could sing? Dingbat. Most of all I’m pretty tootin’ sure she talks about me with people at school. It’s a conspiracy! A HUGE conspiracy and she’s in the grade ahead of me and they’re ALL in cahoots. But the moth made me aware of things I’d never thought of. I was deeply moved and pretty confused. Kind of like that dream I had back then where I was floating across the back yard and she floated toward me and then, well, it happened. I awoke and there was proof. Even then I admitted to myself that it was because we knew each other. Not because she’s cute and was always taller than me or because she’s a laugh riot to be around. Heaven knows I could care less about that stuff. No, it was because we’ve spent so much time together and now there’s this new force acting within me. But by then I’d let the world mold me into a shell and there’s no way I’d ever get that close to her. Just too frightening to even ponder. Yep, the combined length of our yards is just fine by me. Far as I know that moth never enjoyed mutual company, and I was further saddened to eventually see him shrivel over his vain crust of love potion. I went on to start the sixth grade on my 12th birthday and became increasingly alienated as the fall wore into winter, allowing my misunderstood outlook to justify putting up walls. I gradually mellowed out, but I never asked with words whether the girl next door might like to flutter off with me and create a new future. Rather, I did answer the question quite clearly by my actions over the years. So far, it’s “no”. But does the story ever truly end this side of Glory? Didn’t think so.

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