The girls do waddle over and start a coffee-clutch with a zillion ladybugs just like themselves. They meet other beetles from Lodi as well as other points. They hear tales about other little nooks where ladybugs hang out in large numbers. They begin to really enjoy their adulthood. They have little hunger now and their thirst is easily quenched by sipping from any one of the large number of brooks. They are well and happy and aggregating with many of their kind. Jeanne was even commenting to Mary about a nice fellow she shared a dew drop with. His name was Spot. When Jeanne told Mary of his silly moniker, Mary advised Jeanne to hang on a little longer-she could do better than that. “Spot? Really now.” The girls take short day-flights exploring their new home and life is good.
The girls were vacationing just outside Rough & Ready and things couldn’t get any better. But that was about to change for back in town a man by the name of Cutter Fox was stirring in his bed. It was his time to get going — he had some ladybugs to meet. Cutter downed a bowl of oatmeal and chased it with strong black coffee. Outside his plank-sided and dilapidated mountain shanty his old Ford pickup was warming up (it stalled or backfired a lot if he didn’t let it warm up a bit). In the bed of the truck was a large number of five-gallon buckets, the kind used for a dry-waller’s joint compound. Except they wouldn’t be used for joint compound-not today, anyway. Today they’d be used to scoop and hold ladybugs. It’s how Cutter Fox made his ends meet. He cut wood for a living and tried his hand at panning for gold on the side, but between the two occupations, it still wasn’t enough. That’s okay, though, Cutter was also one of the best damned ladybug pickers around.
Several years ago Cutter had been drinking and hunting for squirrels (not a wise combination, but that’s another story). Meandering through the woods Cutter happened upon a clearing near the intersection of two tributaries. The area was full of ladybugs. Cutter thought it was kinda’ nice seeing so many ladybugs in one spot. However, he didn’t get too excited about it. Cutter had wood to cut, gold to pan (or should we say mica and pyrite), money to make and squirrels to kill. Didn’t have time for no damned ladybugs. This belief held fast for several hours, until Cutter got back to town. He didn’t find or kill any critters so he stopped by the grocery for dinner fixin’s. The grocer, Bobby Madder, greeted Cutter.
“Hey old man. How you doin’?” Bobby asked.
“Didn’t get no squirrels today,” Cutter grumbled, “but other than that I’m okay. If I could only—”
“What? Get some money?” Bobby snickered (Cutter had a huge tab).
“Yeah, ‘xactly.” Cutter replied.
“Well,” a chuckling Bobby states, “you could pick some ladybugs fer a livin’”
“What in tarnation are you squawking about?” Cutter asked, getting a little irritated with Bobby’s games.
“Look here,” Bobby said as he shoved a colorful flyer in Cutter’s face.
Cutter grabbed the piece of hunter’s orange-colored paper and scanned it. It said:
Ladybugs Wanted:
We’ll pay $45.00 per gallon.
Permitted collectors only.
Call for details
(916) 555-7945
When through, Cutter scoffed. (Inside he was grinning ear to ear hoping he could find his way back to the red-and-black mother lode he found earlier.) Bobby didn’t notice right away, but Cutter pocketed the flyer and left the store. Without any groceries. Bobby was too full of himself to notice; croaking noisily at the sheer stupidity of the idea of collecting ladybugs. Well that beats all, he thought.
Half-drunk or not, Cutter did find his way back to the ladybug aggregation. He also found out he could get a permit from the Forest Service without too much trouble; they instructed him as to the dos and don’ts of environmentally-sound ladybug harvesting. He also called the number on the flyer and spoke with the people looking for ladybugs. From these people he learned of biological pest control and the role of ladybugs as so-called beneficial insects. Intriguing, but whatever. There’s a dime to be made and Cutter could use all the dimes he could get his grungy hands on. He cut a deal with the ladybug people and launched a new venture: Cutter Fox, Ladybug Picker Extraordinare.
That was a several years ago. This morning-’cause morning’s best-Cutter lurches off in his smoking, backfiring-anyway pickup truck and heads for a logging road which will lead him closer to the secret site of his special quarry.
Fifteen minutes later Cutter turns the key, killing the engine, and puts his tired pickup out of its morning misery. He steps out and begins to negotiate the dense woods on foot. Twenty minutes pass before Cutter breaks into a clearing. The sound of a babbling brook ahead and to his right. Before Cutter hundreds of gallons of ladybugs weigh down the branches of the area’s flora. Ladybugs upon ladybugs. Among them are our stars: Jeanne and Mary. Cutter smiles to himself, showing the world and, yet, no one, his new gold cap on upper-right incisor. Paid for with ladybugs.
“Hey, Jeanne, what is that over there?” Mary asks, pointing in Cutter’s direction.
“I don’t know,” Jeanne replies, “but it’s headed this way.”
Both Jeanne and Mary are alarmed, as are the others which share their particular nook. The ladybugs begin to retreat from the approaching figure. Mary gets a really bad feeling, panics a little, and veers off to her left — away from the crowd. Jeanne, not noticing, continues in the same direction as the mass. A shadow covers them all. Suddenly Jeanne finds herself tumbling out of control as the shadow materializes into something more and she’s scooped up with her nest-mates. Mary stops and looks around for Jeanne. She can hear her. She’s yelling for Mary and getting further and further away every second. Mary realizes that Jeanne’s in the bucket that the large figure is holding. Jeanne, her dear sister, is being carried away.
Some time later Jeanne ends up being crawl-cleaned. She climbs onto a piece of burlap looking for egress from a large trash can she ends up in after Cutter sells her and her nest-mates to the ladybug people. The crawl cleaning, as it turns out, wasn’t her way out but, rather, it was her way to move on. She ends up in a cloth bag with thousands of her peers.
For Jeanne this is a scary time. A lot of bouncing and jostling, darkness, heat and cold. And a loud rumbling now and then (either a jet or a UPS truck). Many hours pass — perhaps a whole day, or two. Jeanne’s disoriented.
Then it happens, as suddenly as it began, all motion stops and Jeanne and her bag-mates find themselves — after a brief period of bright but filtered light — lying quietly in a cold, dark place. More hours pass before things start moving again, but all hell breaks loose. She and her bag-mates begin to warm up and stir.
There’s a steady rhythm, up and down, as a woman, we’ll call her Cheri, walks towards her garden with ladybug bag in hand. Cheri’s just watered the garden and plans on releasing some of the ladybugs the UPS man brought her today in a little box shipped from California. Cheri’s concerned because a few days ago she noticed a large infestation of some sort of bugs on some on her plants. Cheri thinks they’re aphids. And Cheri’s right.
Jeanne is grabbed with a handful of her new chums — literally scooped up — and she’s tossed with seemingly reckless abandon into Cheri’s garden. Jeanne’s really starting to freak out a little. She’s asking herself: Where am I? What’s happening? Mar-rrrry?
In a few minutes, though, Jeanne’s fear starts to recede. She looks around and, even though it’s dark, she sees (or senses) that there’s plenty of water to drink and that there’s food around. She finds a water droplet and begins to drink; she was getting very thirsty. When through, Jeanne decides to explore a little. Maybe she’ll find a way back to her forest hangout. But, wait, she spies an aphid and decides to have a quick snack first. Then she stops for another, and another, and?
Jeanne starts to like her new home and has decided to stick around a little while. Just a while; to feed on more aphids. Mmmm. Memories of her life with Mary begin to fade. She’s found her new life and a boyfriend (named Todd, not a strange name at all) — all in Cheri’s garden somewhere in Ohio-and has rediscovered a certain happiness. She has left Mary, it seems, in another life. But that’s okay.
Cheri’s happy as her aphid numbers are going down and the plants are beginning to perk up. Cheri’s grateful for the ladybugs. Many flew away, but the ones that stuck it out are working.
Bobby, the Rough & Ready grocer, is still laughing at Cutter and his curious ladybug collecting. Cutter’s store tab is at a zero balance, but Bobby hasn’t put two-and-two together yet. Strangely, though, he has noticed the old man seems to have a new spring in his step — not to mention that new glittery smile.
Cutter’s having the time of his life. He still cuts wood and pans for gold (though the only gold he’s ever really touched has been attached to his tooth). And he’s been collecting ladybugs like mad. All is well for Cutter Fox; he’s even thinking about buying one of those newfangled Dodge Ram pickups.
Mary? Well, Mary ran after Jeanne but never gained ground. The large, hulking figure just took her away. Mary spent some time sulking, stunned by the loss of her sibling. But life moves on and Mary did. She got over Jeanne eventually. She was just having time of her life exploring, visiting the brook and chatting with her new friends in the comforts of her forest home. The ladybug taker would come back now and then, but Mary didn’t fear him any longer. She’d just stand off by herself and stay out of his way.
By a strange coincidence, Mary did fondly remember Jeanne one day soon after she had a conversation with her new boyfriend and soon-to-be-husband. She and her boyfriend were talking about leaving the forest and going down to the valley to raise some kids. Her boyfriend said he didn’t know why exactly, but it was time to go and he wanted Mary to accompany him. Mary hesitated for less than a second, then committed herself to him for the duration. They left. During their flight, thoughts of Jeanne popped into Mary’s head. She sobbed once or twice then resolved to move on. She had a life and her man and the future looked uncertain but bright nevertheless. Mary decided to put Jeanne out of her mind for good. She looked up and saw that her boyfriend was getting further ahead of her. She wasn’t about to lose this fine masculine specimen. She called to him.
“Hey, Spot, wait for me.”
Author’s Closing Note… Please note that it is true that ladybug pickers must be permitted, also know that no real harm comes to the bugs and the sites are well maintained by these pickers so as to ensure a prosperous ladybug-picking future. Moreover, also realize that the troubling emotions of Jeanne and Mary are fictitious. Bugs don’t think the way Jeanne and Mary, as my characters, do. It’s the result of any anthropomorphic story. Also note that during the lives of ladybugs-whether in a garden or a mass-aggregation site-they are covered by snow and tend to nap for a few months. Late the following winter into early spring the ladybugs become active again and begin their journey back to where they came from. In Jeanne’s case, she probably headed for the woods surrounding Cheri’s garden.
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