Jack and Poppy rushed through the kitchen door and as Jack slid to a stop he gasped, “Now we’re safe!”
Dad was washing some dishes and he looked across and asked, “Safe? Safe from what?”
“That bird,” Poppy said. And she pointed out the door up into the sky. “It’s been following us all the way home from school. See it?”
Dad looked out. There was a bird. A normal sized, common bird kind of bird. It was light brown with a soft white tummy and black spots. He watched it land on the garden tree where it tilted its head, like it was watching the kitchen door. Dad just smiled. “That’s a thrush,” he said. “A thrush isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
Jack said, “Well, it kept swooping near us when we were walking. Swoop. Swoop. Like this. And he waved one of his arms like a dive bomber.
Dad wanted to know why a perfectly harmless thrush would want to bomb two big school kids. He smiled and asked, “Were you balancing a slice of bread on top of your head? That might attract a thrush.” Jack and Poppy were smiling now too, “No dad!” they said. Dad went on, “Imagine that! A dive bombing thrush swooping down to peck a piece of bread off your head.”
Then Poppy said, “Well, I don’t know why he swooped and swooped, but he really did, dad. And it gave us cause for concern.” Jack glanced at Poppy and mumbled that he didn’t know about that, but the swooping certainly made them nervous.
Then he thought of something and held up a little bundle of white he was carrying ever so carefully in his hand. Jack said, “Change of subject, dad. See what we’ve brought home.” Dad came over and peered at the bundle Jack was holding. It was little, so he hadn’t noticed it before and now he gently touched it. He gave Jack a sly grin and said, “It’s not one of those delicious little things Mrs Threadbare has in her big handbag, is it?”
Poppy said, “Show dad,jack. Unwrap it.” So Jack slowly and very, very carefully uncovered the little thing and gently held it up for dad to see. Dad bent down for a closer look. Poppy crowded near. There in Jack’s open hand was a little stumpy thing like a short pencil. Dried up. Smaller than a lollipop. A sort of grey colour. Not heavy. It was fixed to a small twig at the top. It was a chrysalis.
Poppy said, “Our teacher was giving them out. We’re all took one each.”
“And what’ll you do with it?” dad asked. Jack grinned and said they were going to watch the butterfly come out. Poppy told dad, “Our teacher said it was going to happen ‘any day’. Jack and I really want to be right there when it does come out,” she said. “We don’t want to miss it!”
“Nor would I!” dad said. “Wow! It would be great to see a butterfly emerging; coming out.” But then he told them right now he had to go off to work, so he hoped the butterfly would stay inside the little chrysalis and not come out until he got back!
Poppy smiled and said it might come out sooner. Their teacher said it was close. “We can’t control nature, dad,” Jack added. “We’d like to it stop until you get back, but …” And dad messed his hand over Jack’s hair and laughed and said he’d hurry back from work as fast as he could. Then he had a thought He asked, “Anyway, where will you put it while you wait for it to emerge?”
There was only one place for Jack and Poppy to do that! They tossed their school bags into the corner of the kitchen, gave dad a big thank-you hug, carefully wrapped the little chrysalis into a bundle again and raced out the door.
The thrush was still in the garden tree and it tilted its head as Jack and Poppy sped through the garden gate, along the footpath and up onto the hill. The sun was shining, the wind was gentle. They marched up the slope with big smiles on their faces. Swishing through the long grass. Going around patches of prickly scratchy things. Heading up to a small flat area that had a little bit of shade, some bushes, soft grass and from where they could look out over the whole town.
And what a view it was. The could see their home. Next door was Mrs Threadbare’s house and her letterbox with the weeds underneath. And off in the distance was school. Poppy lay back on the grass and sighed a big happy sigh. This was one of their favourite places on the whole hill.
Then something moved. Just a bit. Some of the leaves on a bush jiggle and rustled. Poppy was busy sighing and thinking nice thoughts so she didn’t notice the little shaking. Jack did, but he turned to look too slowly and by that time it had stopped. He thought, probably just wind.
He didn’t take any more notice. Instead he unwrapped his precious bundle and laid the little chrysalis and the twig on a tall scratchy clump of grass near the bush. The bush that had rustled.
Poppy rolled over and the two of them sat and watched their chrysalis. And watched. And watched.
Something in the bush was also watching. The little jiggle and shake happened again. But again Jack and Poppy didn’t see it. They just kept watching the little grey chrysalis. And looking. And waiting.
Then the little stumpy chrysalis moved. It sort of wiggled. All by itself. Jack and Poppy went tense and leaned forward a bit more. The chrysalis jerked. Something inside was moving!
Up in the bush the little shaking thing did a slight jerk. Although Jack and Poppy didn’t see that. They were straining forward watching the stumpy chrysalis.
It moved again. Then again and this time something orange and black sort of popped out the end of the chrysalis. The butterfly was coming! Poppy gave a little squeal. “So good, Jack!” she said in a big whisper. Jack nodded and grinned and squeezed her hand.
Out and out it came. The butterfly was wiggling and shaking itself out of the chrysalis. Backwards. More and more came out and then … pop! It was out! A lumpy, orange butterfly was out in the sunshine, hanging on for dear life to the empty chrysalis.
Jack and Poppy went “Oh!” and leaned forward. They wanted to reach out and touch the new butterfly, but of course they realised they should just let it rest and get ready too fly. “Our teacher was right,” Poppy said. “It was ready to come out!”
They sat back a bit and grinned some of the biggest grins they had smiled all day.
And just at that exact time, right then, there was a great explosion of shaking in the bush. A bird flew out! It was the thrush!
Jack made a yell. Poppy looked up. The thrush threw itself out of the bush, straight for the new butterfly. It hurtled down. And before Jack and Poppy could shout a warning it went Bang! onto the butterfly. In one quick stab it picked up the wiggling orange butterfly in it’s mouth. Grab! It flapped and crashed it’s wings and flew away. Up past the bush. Up over the flat grassy place. Up and up and … Then it had gone. With the new butterfly!
“Jack!” Poppy clapped her hands to her mouth. Jack’s jaw dropped open. He said, “Poppy, that bird followed us!” Poppy said she knew it was a bad bird. Jack said, “It was waiting all the time for our butterfly!”
Poppy asked how on earth it had known that the bundle Jack had carried had a chrysalis inside and inside the chrysalis there was a new butterfly. Jack didn’t know how.
Poppy said, “That is so sad, Jack.” Jack said, “It just swooped down and gobbled up our butterfly. So mean.” Poppy could feel little wet tears beginning in her eyes. Jack had them too, but he brushed them away and stood up. He said, “Well. That’s the end of our butterfly.”
Then he thought. “At least we saw it come out. I feel sorry for dad. He won’t be able to see anything.” Poppy said at least they could carry the empty chrysalis down to dad and show him that, so they wrapped it up and set off down the hill. Slowly. They felt too sad to rush down like they usually did.
When they plodded into the garden dad was coming out of the garage. He’d just got home. And although he was about to give a big smile and say something like, ‘How was the butterfly?’ he noticed they were dragging themselves along and their mouths were pushed down in sad shapes. So instead, dad said, “What happened?”
They told him. Dad said he was as sorry about that. So sorry. Then he said, something like that happened to Jesus once. His cousin John got murdered by a bad, very bad, lady. Even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. When Jesus heard he was sad. Dad said, “You can read that story in your Bible. Bad things sometimes happen to good people.”
Jack nodded.
Dad said, “Would it cheer you up if we all went inside and had some of your mum’s delicious you-know-whats?” The answer was YES!