The Butterfly Effect
A Short Story by Scott Semegran
Copyright © 2009 Scott Semegran
All Rights Reserved
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The publisher requests that this eBook not be resold or given away to other people by you although the publisher realizes that the world doesn’t work that way; sometimes people are kind and generous and sometimes people are selfish and shitty. If you purchased this eBook, then the publisher thanks you profusely. We worked very hard on it and it took the author a long time to write. If you "found" this eBook and it "magically" appeared on your eReader, then good for you. You are very lucky. Most likely, no one will come looking for you. But if you do enjoy this eBook after reading it, then please consider purchasing your own copy or purchasing other eBooks by this publisher and this fine author. The author is a good man and has a family to support. All of his eBooks are cheaper than a fancy cup of coffee which is awesome. Thank you for taking the time to read this legal stuff. Thank you again. Good luck. Enjoy!
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Photo of Scott Semegran by Lori Hoadley
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Books by Scott Semegran:
Boys
The Spectacular Simon Burchwood
The Meteoric Rise of Simon Burchwood
Modicum
Mr. Grieves
Find Scott Semegran Online:
https://www.scottsemegran.com
My daughters and I walked to the mailbox with hurried optimism. Sophia, my 6-year-old, ran in front, the mailbox key clinking on the keychain she grasped tightly in her little hand. My 8-year-old, Mia, held my hand and smiled at me while we walked.
"Do you think they'll be there, daddy?" Mia asked.
"I have a good feeling they will be."
"I sure hope so, daddy."
"Me too."
Sophia was already around the corner and running full-throttle for the mailbox, her little fists pumping, her little feet scurrying.
"Sophia is excited too, daddy."
"I can see that."
At the mailbox, Sophia inserted the key and opened the door. Plunging her hand in the mailbox, she pulled out a smallish cardboard box and placed it on the ground. She marveled at it like it was a treasure chest, an ancient lockbox filled with valuable things. Mia knelt next to it, placing her ear on top, closing her eyes as she listened.
"Do you think they know where they are?" Mia asked me.
"I would have to say no to that."
"Where do you think they think they are, daddy?" she asked.
"I have no idea what they are thinking. I'm sure they are confused, though."
"Can we take them home, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"Of course. Let's take them home."
Sophia leaned over to pick up the smallish box. And Mia also leaned over to pick up the smallish box. And within an instant, a shoving match broke out. They both wanted to be the sole carrier of the precious box. I placed my hands on their shoulders and leaned in between them.
"You two don't have to fight over them. You both can carry them home together."
They smiled and nodded. On each side of the smallish box, they carried it up the hill toward our house like a miniature funeral procession, like cute pallbearers. It was a sight to see. They could barely contain their excitement.
***
I slid the razorblade in the seams of the box and sliced it open carefully. I pulled the top open and emptied the contents of the smallish box on the coffee table. Mia immediately began inventorying the contents.
"Here's the... what do you call this thing, daddy?"
"That's the observation chamber."
"Neat. Here's the observation chamber. Here's the... what is this thing?"
"That looks like the feeder."
Sophia impatiently leaned over the box, ignoring her sister.
"Where are they, daddy?" she asked, curious and worried at the same time.
"I'm sure they are in there."
I pulled out a wad of marketing fliers and tossed them to the floor. At the bottom of the smallish box was an even smaller box, wrapped in an exorbitant amount of tape. I sliced the tape with my razorblade and opened the box. Inside, a round, clear plastic container housed what my daughters were waiting for: five caterpillars.
"Are they OK, daddy? Are they alive, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"Yes, baby. They are alive."
I raised the container so they could see the caterpillars. The bugs wiggled around inside the clear container, inch-worming their way around the perimeter, jabbing their heads back and forth.
"What are they doing, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"They look like they are dancing!" Mia said, laughing uncontrollably at the site of those worms wiggling. Watching them wiggle brought pure joy to their faces.
"Can I name them, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"Sure."
"OK, I'll name that one... Wormy! And I'll name that one... I'll name that one... Wormy!"
"You already named one Wormy!" Mia protested. "I want to name them too!"
"No! I'm going to name them!"
"I want to name them!"
I intervened again.
"Girls, it's time for the caterpillars to go to sleep. Mia, since you are the oldest, we're going to keep them in your room."
"OK, daddy."
"Can we both carry them, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"Of course."
The two cute pallbearers carried the wiggling caterpillars upstairs to Mia's room, where they were going to live for the next few weeks.
***
A few nights later, after watching the girls play outside, I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard a blood-curdling scream from upstairs. I dropped what I was doing and ran up the stairs to Mia's room. The cat was slinking his way out of her room, looking guilty and annoyed at the same time. Mia was on the floor cradling the caterpillar container in her arms. Sophia was comforting her, patting her on the back.
"What happened, baby?" I asked, putting my arms around her.
"Merlot was trying to get the caterpillars." Merlot, by the way, was our big, fat Manx cat. Caterpillar slayer? I doubt it. Caterpillar sniffer? Most definitely. "He was going to EAT them!" she cried.
"Oh baby, I'm sure he was just curious. He wasn't going to eat them."
"Are you OK, Mia?" asked Sophia, a little more concerned for the caterpillars than her sister.
"Yes, Sophia."
"Can I see the worms?"
"Yes, Sophia." Mia handed the container to her sister. She held the container up so she could look inside.
"Look, daddy! Wormy is looking at me!" Sophia laughed. Sure enough, one of the caterpillars pointed his blunt head toward her, appearing to be looking at her. The girls giggled with excitement.
"See girls, the caterpillars are fine. No worries." I said.
Just then, a dog snout invaded our space, sniffing loudly. Sophia screamed, lifting the caterpillar container above her head.
"Daddy, Abby's going to get the worms!" Sophia screamed. Abby was our Greyhound / Labrador dog. She, unlike the fat cat, would gobble those worms like jellybeans. No doubt about it. But Abby licked Sophia's face instead and the girls giggled hysterically. The worms were safe from harm and were put back on their shelf.
***
According to the instructions that came with the caterpillars, after about a week, webbing would appear in the container, the worm food would be about gone, and the fat caterpillars would hang upside down to form their chrysalides. And sure enough, they did. They stuck their fat butts to the top of that container and dangled stiffly. In about another week, the worms would turn into Painted Lady butterflies. The girls and I looked in with amazement.
"Why do they do that, daddy?" Sophia asked.
"So they can turn into butterflies."
"Why do they turn into butterflies, daddy?"
"Because that's what caterpillars do."
"Why aren't they born butterflies?"
"Because first they are caterpillars, then they turn into butterflies."
"Why, daddy?"
"I don't know sweetheart. That's the way God made them, I guess."
The two girls peered lovingly into the glass container. Since they received them, they bonded as much as they could with Wormy, Slimy, Wormy II, Slinky, and Cinderella. Those worms didn't know how good they had it.
"When they turn to butterflies, I bet they will fly to Mexico, daddy."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because that's where butterflies go to. They like to fly to Mexico."
"That's very interesting. Why Mexico?"
"My teacher says it's because it's tropical in Mexico."
"What else does your teacher say?"
"She always says she needs a margarita!"
I laughed one of those deep belly laughs that come straight from your gut. The girls laughed too. I then transferred the dangling chrysalides from the plastic container to the observation chamber where their transformation would eventually take place. I hung the observation chamber by a window in the breakfast room.
***
After a week of patiently watching the cocoons, the worms emerged as beautiful Painted Lady butterflies. It was a peaceful spring morning, cool and breezy and quiet. I was making a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, peaking over at the butterflies occasionally as I prepared the pot, smiling while thinking about how the girls would react. Eventually, I could hear the girls upstairs, waking up and moving around. I knew they would be excited when they came downstairs to discover what had happened overnight. They tromped loudly down the stairs. And then they screamed with excitement.
"Butterflies!"
I pulled the observation chamber down and set it on the kitchen table. The girls perched in their chairs and watched the bugs flutter around inside.
"They're beautiful," Sophia cooed.
"That one must be Cinderella," Mia said, pointing to the one with the brightest colors.
"That's Wormy!" Sophia countered.
"No, it's not. That's Cinderella!"
I placed my hands on their shoulders and leaned in between them.
"It's too early for arguing, girls. I haven't had any coffee yet."
"Can we let them go, daddy? Please! PLEASE!" they asked in unison.
"Sure, let me make a cup of coffee. Then we can let them go in the backyard."
I made my cup of Joe and the girls picked up the observation chamber and we made our way to the back patio. I sat down as the girls set the observation chamber on the ground. They peered in lovingly.
"Daddy?" Mia asked.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do you think they'll make it to Mexico?"
"I'm certain of it."
"Are you sure?"
"I have no doubts. Why don't you let them go?"
"OK."
They unzipped the observation chamber and pulled the top flap open. A slight breeze came over the patio and the butterflies lifted themselves out of the chamber, gently flying over the lawn. They turned in the air like a pastel tornado, serenely weaving in the air. My daughters cooed as they watched the young butterflies.
For one second, one split second, it was a beautiful... natural... moment.
But a second later, Abby the dog was flying through the air, her mouth open, her tongue out. She snapped the first butterfly out of the air into her jaws as quick as lightning. And before my mind could comprehend what was happening, she leapt up again for another one, gobbling it down with one gulp.
My daughters screamed. And I jumped up to lunge at Abby, throwing my hot cup of coffee off the side of the patio. I swung at Abby's behind but she continued on. She gobbled and snapped the butterflies out of the air until they were gone. The only remnants of the serene bugs stuck to her dog lips, wing particles and such. It was a butterfly holocaust. It was horrible.
My daughters cried and cried. And I felt like crying too, having witnessed their care for the cute caterpillars over the past couple of weeks. All I could think of was, "Damn dog!" I could have killed that damn dog. But why add to the bloodshed? I took my girls inside the house to comfort them. I thought of saying something about why Abby ate them but then I thought it would just be better if I kept my mouth shut. So I kept my mouth shut.
And I gave them ice cream for breakfast.
About The Author
Scott Semegran lives in Austin, Texas. He graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in English. He is a cartoonist and a writer. He can also bend metal with his mind and run really fast, if chased by a pack of wolves. His comic strips have appeared in the following newspapers: The Austin Student, The Funny Times, The Austin American-Statesman, Rocky Mountain Bullhorn, Seven Days, The University of Texas at Dallas Mercury, and The North Austin Bee. His short stories have appeared in independent publications and literary journals like The Next One Literary Journal from the Texas Tech University Honors College. He is a Kindle bestselling author.
Books by Scott Semegran
This short story also appeared in MODICUM, a collection of short stories, musings, and cartoons by writer / cartoonist Scott Semegran. The book explores such themes as suicide, parenting, religion, masculinity, the apocalypse, and, most importantly, erections. It’s guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and pee your pants (hopefully, not at the same time).
Praise for MODICUM:
"Funny, sweet, dark, and sad, Scott Semegran's comics and short stories create a wholly convincing world of love, loss, and fear. His light touch with heavy subjects is a gift, and his forays into silliness are a delight. I can't tell if his kids should read it as soon as possible, or never." - Emily Flake, cartoonist and author of LuLu Eightball
"Hilarious, poignant, twisted... and those are just the stories. Scott Semegran's cartoons bring an added one-two visceral punch to a powerful collection of work." - Davy Rothbart, author of The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas and publisher of FOUND Magazine
Get it today!
***
Looking for your next mind-bending novel to read? Then checkout The Meteoric Rise of Simon Burchwood by Scott Semegran. On his way to New York to celebrate his impending literary success, Simon Burchwood is the prototypical American careerist. But a quick detour to Montgomery, Alabama to visit a childhood friend sends Simon on a bizarre journey, challenging his hopes and dreams of becoming a famous writer. The Meteoric Rise of Simon Burchwood is a character study that delves into the psyche of a man who desperately tries to redefine himself.
Is Simon pompous? Yes. A jerk? Yes. Will you like him? Absolutely! "The book is told entirely from Simon’s viewpoint. Simon is not a very likeable guy; as a matter of fact, he is a self-centered, pompous jerk. But for some reason, it’s pretty fun to be inside his head, mainly because he is an inadvertent, oblivious jerk... you will learn Simon’s views on smoking, cleanliness and going to the bathroom, just to name a few. There were times that I laughed out loud... A very good novel that was humorous throughout." -- 4 1/2 Stars / Red Adept Reviews
The Meteoric Rise of Simon Burchwood was selected as one of the "5 Best Summer Indie Beach Reads" by the editors of The Indie Reader. Their verdict: "An ambitious, enjoyable read with a superb ending that changed my interpretation of the entire text."
Buy it today!
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Want more Simon Burchwood? Then get the next novel The Spectacular Simon Burchwood. Recently divorced and his writing career in shambles, Simon Burchwood's life is a complete disaster. He reluctantly finds work as a computer support technician and resigns that his career as the next great American novelist will never come to fruition. When he learns that his ex-wife abruptly moves to Dallas with his children, he embarks on a crazy road trip with a
nerdy coworker and a hitchhiking punk rock girl and discovers the inspiration he desperately needs for his new literary masterpiece. Take another trip with the one and only Simon Burchwood.
Praise for The Spectacular Simon Burchwood:
"The author is quite funny and some of the quips are great. Simon can be hilarious and great to read about in his recaps and memories." –- 3 Stars / So Many Books, So Little Time
"Simon is starting to understand something, and his luck literally changes. Semegran handles this quite deftly; even though Simon keeps warbling his "It's true!" declarations at a great rate, the reader does not tire of them, because, well, some of them ARE true, and we see the progress he is making in getting a grasp of what life is about, albeit in his own ham-fisted way." -- 4 Stars / The New Podler Review of Books
Buy it today!
***
Mr. Grieves started as a poke at human nature through the use of talking, narcissistic animals. It has evolved into a full-on assault to your funny bone. Where else will you find rats fighting over cubicles, camels worrying about aging, a parrot talking to aliens, and a lonely water snail longing for a friend? Welcome to the world of Mr. Grieves!
Praise for Mr. Grieves:
"An animal or plant — or maybe even an ovum — talks. Sometimes to itself, but more often to another of its kind. The idea is simple, but the execution is smart and almost always funny in Scott Semegran’s collection of 140 four-panel comics drawn between 2004 and 2008, Mr. Grieves." -- Reviewed for IndieReader by Andrew Stout
Get it today!
***
Boys is a collection of stories about three boys living in Texas: one growing up, one dreaming, and one fighting to stay alive in the face of destitution and adversity. There's second-grader William, a shy yet imaginative boy who schemes about how to get back at his school-yard bully, Randy. Then there's Sam, a 15-year-old boy who dreams of getting a 1980 Mazda RX-7 for his sixteenth birthday but has to work at a Greek restaurant to fund his dream. Finally, there's Seff, a 21-year-old on the brink of manhood, trying to survive along with his roommate, working as waiters and barely making ends meet. These three stories are told with heart, humor, and an uncompromising look at what it meant to grow up in Texas during the 1980s and 1990s.
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