Most of the time when you hear a story about a cocoon, there’s a caterpillar inside. But not this story. This story is about a cocoon that had a butterfly inside. A butterfly who was afraid to fly.
She didn’t really fit inside her cocoon anymore. And she was constantly having to make repairs every time she stretched her wings by accident. And it wasn’t the most beautiful dwelling space, either. But she sent away for a lovely rug and a lovely chair, and this made things a little more bearable.
Sometimes, out her window, she saw other butterflies. How beautiful they looked soaring through the air! But she knew very well the dangers of soaring free . . . she could get caught and put in someone’s butterfly collection. Or worse!
It’s better just to be safe, she thought.
But secretly, in her heart, she longed more than anything to see the world.
Then one day she overheard two butterflies chatting about Mexico—the breezes, the sunsets, the delicious nectars—oh, it sounded like heaven!
She tried to wipe the idea from her mind right away. I’m sure it’s not really all it’s cracked up to be, she told herself. And I’m comfortable here. And I like the poetic thoughts I have as I watch life pass by.
But that night, as the butterfly slept, dreaming about flying as usual, she flapped her wings a little too vigorously, and suddenly, there was a loud rip.
The butterfly woke to wind on her face. She shrieked and grabbed a roll of duct tape, but no amount of duct tape was going to repair this sort of damage. She knew very well she was going to have to leave. So she brushed off the
pieces of cocoon from her body and stepped out onto the cold, damp ground.
She looked up at the sky, but only sighed. “I think I’ll just walk for now.”
On her walk, she ran into an ant. “A little late for Halloween, wouldn’t you say?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” said the butterfly.
“Well, you can’t really be a butterfly.”
“Not all butterflies fly.”
“Yes, they do.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“You have wings . . .”
“I’ve sprained my ankle.”
“Butterflies need ankles to fly?”
“Listen,” said the butterfly. “I hate to be rude, but I’ve got business to take care of.”
“You’re afraid of flying, aren’t you?”
“I’m not afraid of flying,” said the butterfly. “I prefer to walk. And I can get by in life just fine by walking.”
The butterfly tried to walk away from the ant, but the ant followed.
“What a waste of wings!” the ant said. “Don’t you ever catch glimpses of them in your peripherals and think, ‘Geez, I ought to use these’?”
“Don’t you have a picnic to crash?”
“What a shame . . . What I wouldn’t do for wings. If I had wings like yours, I’d be on my way to Mexico!”
The butterfly stopped in her tracks and gasped. “How do you know about Mexico?”
“Everyone knows about Mexico! They have the most beautiful breezes, sunsets, and the most delicious nectars.”
The butterfly stared off into the distance. “Really? Is it really true?”
“Yes, it’s really true. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
“I can’t. I told you, I can’t fly!”
“I’ll tell you what . . . I’ll come with you!”
“You? You’re an ant. What, are we gonna walk to Mexico?”
“No, you’re gonna fly us there, and I’ll ride on your back!”
“What? No way. No thanks.”
“Why not? I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll encourage you the whole way!”
“No thank you.”
“What are you going to do instead, Butterfly? Stare up at the sky for the rest of your days? Is that any way to live?”
So the two set off for Mexico. The butterfly was terrified. “I’m going to close my eyes the whole way!”
“That’s fine. I’ve got the map. All you gotta do is follow my directions.”
“OK . . . Here we goooo!”
The takeoff went smoothly. And before long, they were high in the sky.
“How am I doing, Ant?”
“Pretty good . . . Left, left . . . Leeeeft . . . Phew!”
“This really isn’t so bad!”
“See, what’d I tell ya?”
Once they were at cruising altitude, they chatted about their childhoods to pass the time, and took turns sharing what they’d do first when they got to Mexico.
“It’s quite beautiful up here, Butterfly. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to have a look?”
“Not yet.”
Then, two days later, it started raining. And raining hard. The ant was
having trouble holding on. “Ant? Are you OK?”
“I’m afraid I’m slipping, my friend!”
“Quick! Grab my antennae!”
But it was too late. The ant slipped off and was gone. The butterfly knew she had to do something quick or else her friend would be gone for good. So she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, and dove down at the speed of light. Her body was agile and nimble, and she saw her friend right away. “Here I come, Ant!” she yelled, and she swooped underneath him and he landed right on her back.
“Wow, that was a close call,” the ant said, out of breath.
“I’ve got you now, Ant!” The butterfly’s voice sounded different.
“Wait a minute. Are you the same butterfly?”
“Yes and no, Ant.” And the butterfly smiled. Because in that moment, she realized flying was far less scary than her fear of flying.
“Thank you, Ant.”
“Thank me? Thank you! I don’t have wings, remember?”
The ant and the butterfly flew smoothly into Mexico and found a wonderful section of beach that wasn’t too populated. And together, they soaked in the sunset and the breezes while sipping the most delicious nectar they ever could have imagined, and yes, it really was all it was cracked up to be.
The End
-JLK
All episodes written, performed and produced by Jessica Laurel Kane, and the music was made by Jerome Rossen at Freshmade Music.