Lepidoptery Crossing

Umber was always quick to think of the worst-case scenario. It was a significant hinderance in her life because she didn’t just think of it, she focused on it. She dwelled on worst case scenarios making them the near reality in her head.

“Would you like cream with that?” a waitress would ask.

“Yes,” she’d say.

The waitress would bring Umber’s coffee with a small saucer of hazelnut cream, unlabeled, and not knowing that it had real hazelnut in it, she would pour a hefty amount of cream.

Umber did not have a nut allergy, but she heard you could develop them at any random time in your life. Drinking the creamed coffee she would draw her hand up to her throat, blinking away tears from her eyes, as she bobbed her mouth like a fish gasping for air.

Her companion would have stepped away to the bathroom and no one would be there to realize she needed help and she would collapse and die on the dirty restaurant countertop.

Her tombstone would read:

Here Lies

Umber Sommerflue

If Only Someone Had Known

Which is why she never bothered with cream and drank her coffee black instead.

Her friends and family would tell her she was as delicate and fragile as a butterfly. She didn’t take that with offense. Butterflies were also beautiful and could change the world.

“Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect,” she’d flap her arms at her mother.

She found them fascinating, and it triggered a deeper love for the study of the butterfly, but she was limited to the few species she could study live in her small hometown. She had to resort to books and daydreaming for the rest.

Every seven years the sun released a flare that pushed the Lepidoptery Passing Trail by about 150 degrees latitude. This led the butterflies on a looped pattern that dipped into West Pteetneet City, darkening the skies of the largest commercial industry in the region for an average of 117 minutes. Eleven different butterfly species migrations would cross paths: the black and yellow chicken swallowtail, the scarlet flamingo, the Florida orange, the fire headed peacock, the blue porcelain swallowtail, the Greentip Fritilary, the beach satyr, the artic tailed sunrise, the pink pony double club, the full moon at midnight, and bÖb.

She studied hard and studied fast so that she could graduate early and spent the summer, and all her savings, to get a cheap apartment in the city with only 3 months until the next crossing. This was her chance to see the show!

Her funds dwindled as quickly as her confidence which dwindled in conjunction of her ability to find a job. She worried about so many things, she began to worry why she didn’t worry about this exact scenario. Was she not worrying enough?

The crossing was one week away and if she didn’t get a job in the next twenty-four hours she would miss the crossing. She would have to wait seven years before it happened again.

“Thank you for meeting with me Ms. Summerfly.”

“It’s Sommerflue,” Umber said.

“Yes, thank you for meeting with me on the patio café. The heat out here is making my office swelter today.”

“Yes, Mr. Kontor,” a little sweat dripped down the crevasse of her cleavage.

“The job is a standard secretary position, and it only pays minimum wage. How does that sound?”

“I can make that work, sir. I have just a couple questions,” she paused and nervously added, “I’m just excited that I’ll be able to stay for the…”

“Sorry to interrupt,” interrupted a waiter, “can I take your drink order?”

“Venti mocha blended icedsoy latte, with cream. Would you like anything?”

“Small Coke?”

“Is Pepsi okay?” the waiter asked.

“Oh, no, maybe just a small cappuccino?”

“You don’t like Pepsi?” Mr. Kontor eyebrows cocked.

“No, not really, I…”

Mr. Kontor stood up, pulled out a revolver, and shot Umber in the dead center of her breasts. She looked up with confusion and twisted lipstick onto minty clean teeth. Her hands clutched at her collar bone as she tried to form words, “why?”

“This office,” he shot another bullet in the direct center of her eyebrows, blood oozed down the side of her nose as her eyes crossed. He blew smoke from the tip of the gun.

“Drinks Pepsi, bitch.”

Which is why she decided she would drink the Pepsi.

“I love Pepsi,” is what she had actually lied to the waiter.

The waiter nodded and walked away.

“Did you catch that order, Ms. Summerfly?”

“Uh, what? Yes, Mr. Kontor?”

“Good, meet me up on the 23rd floor when its ready and we can get your desk set up.”

Her office did not have a window; she made sure to let Mr. Kontor know that she needed to take a break when the crossing occurred.

“Yes, just make sure you copy all the red ledgers first,” Mr. Kontor said and waved her off.

She found five red ledgers on his desk and began to make photo copies. She watched the hours tick by on the plastic analog clock that hung crooked above the copy machine. She copied page by page, sorted, punched, and bound.

Umber finished with just five minutes to go. She heard other employees walk by the water cooler telling them to meet each other twelve floors up on the roof. She watched as they walked their way to the elevator.

“Mr. Kantor, I’ve finished the ledgers. I’m going to take a break on the roof to see the crossing.”

“Oh, yes, I was just headed up that way to watch the migration myself. I hear it’s a big one this year. Ummmm, I thought I told you to finish the red ledgers first. I really need those copied for the meeting that starts in –“

He flipped his wrist to reveal a shiny watch.

“- thirty minutes.”

“They are right here.”

"What’s that?”

“The red ledgers.”

“No, I need these red ledgers,” he pointed to five green ledgers.

“Sorry, sir?”

“Oh, no, did I do it again? I’m colorblind. I need these ones copied before you can take a break. I don’t even know what those 'red' ones are!”

He took the red ledgers from Umber, browsed, laughed a little and then tossed them into the trash, “come up to the roof when you’re done.”

By the time she was done she missed the entire crossing. She looked out at the city and could see the evidence that it had existed; a broken flamingo wing here and a dead greentip over there, but she had otherwise missed the show.

Barry praised Umber’s work and attention to detail.

“Thank you, Ms. Summerfly,” he would tell her, “I brought you a Pepsi. I know how much you like those.”

Seven years later and she had not yet grown a taste for the soda, but the longer she went without telling Mr. Kontor she didn’t like the taste the greater her fear of telling him. She considered taking the soda to lunch with her and dumping it out, but her mind would begin to spiral into worst case scenario that involved death or torture in one way or another.

“Mr. Kontor, I wanted to remind you that I took this afternoon off. It’s going to be my first time to see the crossing.”

“Is that today?! Yes, I remember. Just make sure the boardroom is ready for the investors before you head out."

"All set up and ready to go, Sir!"

"That’s great Mrs. Summerfly. The sound checks are complete?”

“Yes, Sir,” she smiled.

“The video line is conferenced in?”

“Yes, Sir,” she nodded.

“Snacks are ordered?”

“Yes, Sir. All 26 agendas are printed and in place at the desk. You are all ready to go, Sir.”

“Did you hear?” Umber heard someone’s high heels clatter on the tile outside the office door as they ran to talk to their office friend in the kitchen.

“The crossing is early!”

“The crossing is early?”

Mr. Kontor said something, but Umber couldn’t hear him, she latched onto the conversation in the office space outside Mr. Kontor's office.

“Yes! Some stream of mountain wind blew in or something and the timeframe was escalated by five hours. They are going to be here in five minutes!”

“Ms. Summerfly! Do I have your attention,” Mr. Kontor snapped his fingers in her face.

“Yes, Mr. Kontor?” She snapped back to his attention. A Florida orange crossed the big window of Mr. Kontor's office.

“Did you say 26 agendas?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Did you prepare the conference room on the 23rd floor?”

“Yes, Sir, the usual conference room.”

“We have 30 attendees. We needed the larger room on the 30th floor. Your day off starts in… 3 hours,” Mr. Kontor checked his watch and gave her a tight smile. He took a sip from his World's Best Boss mug.

“That should be plenty of time to get the rooms switched before you head out for the day. You can clock out after you’re done, a treat from me.” he smiled at her.

Swapping the rooms would take hours. She would miss the crossing if she didn't leave now. She watched as a balding man finished a call and walked toward the elevators to catch the growing crowd of butterfly enthusiast, “they are here. They are right outside right now.”

“No, Mr. Kontor.”

“Excuse me,” Mr. Kontor straightened in his seat.

“No, Mr. Kontor. I already made extra agendas and we can put extra chairs in the room. There is no need to change rooms, I can do it in five minutes.”

Barry Kontor began to speak and Umber stamped her foot, “I said no.”

“Ms. Summerfly?”

“I quit.”

“Call security, I need someone escorted off the premise immediately,” Mr. Kontor was furiously punching buttons on his phone.

Umber smiled and rushed to the elevator, joining the last remaining spectators.

“Umber, good to see you. Are you excited? You’ve been waiting for this,” said Sharon from human resources.

They lifted the twelve floors to the rooftop and exited into crisp air. Umber pushed through the crowds to look around at the swarms of red crimson clouds and waves of blue porcelain. Pink Ponies and Greentips bobbed in and out of each other, making a venmo chart of speckled browns in the sky. Tree branches hung, cracking and thick with the weight of gobs of resting peacocks.

When a bÖb flew nearby and glinted in the sunlight she was hypnotized by the beauty of the reflections she saw within. It was as kaladescopic and stunning as she had hoped for.

A massive swarm of chicken swallowtail burst through the streets of the city and reflected on the glass of her building as they spun up and around in a beautiful black and yellow spiral. Everyone ran to the edge of the building and leaned over the railing to see the cloud make its way up the building.

Umber tried to push her way through the crowd, but the swarm was fast and the rooftop came to life with ten thousand butterflies. The workers put their arms out to let the butterflies rest. Umber spun in the beauty of it. She took in the fresh scent of butterfly as she spun away from the crowd to enjoy the moment she’d waited seven years for.

She barely noticed when she passed the sign that said, in big block letters: AREA OFF LIMITS, EXPOSED ROOFTOP.

She was exhilarated by the rush of air as she stepped one foot off the ledge and then the other. She plummeted backward and the butterflies swarmed behind her. Black and yellow caution tape curled around her arms like wings, fluttering in the wind of the fall.

Umber closed her eyes, smiled, and took a deep breath.

“It’s Sommerflue,” she whispered quietly, to herself.