In Search of Goliathus Hercules (34 page)

Henri nodded. “That’s just the thing. Other days I’m frightened. What challenges and predators are lurking out there? Is there anything you’re afraid of?”

The beetle bobbed his horns.

“Man,” was all he said.

Once again Henri was filled with guilt. “Sorry. That was a bit thoughtless of me. Don’t worry—I’ll protect you. I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise.”

“I know you will protect me as best you can, Serranga-orang,” said Prince.

“Would you call me Henri? That’s my real name.”

“As you wish, Henri.”

A Terrible Glorious Homecoming

“O
h, Henri!” cried his mother.

She knelt down beside him and hugged him close, then slowly pulled back to look at him. “You’ve changed…You’re so, so…” She stumbled, trying to find the words. “So grown up,” she said finally. ”I’m so happy you’re home!”

She pulled him close again, rubbed her cheek against his and whispered, “Darling, is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine, Mother. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but not here.”

Henri felt her nod. “Of course, dear. Well…I’m so proud of you!”

Henri had been wheeled down the gangway in the wheelchair they had purchased before departing Malaya. His face was powdered white in order to mask the pale green tinge of his skin. He wore a turban on his head to hide his antennae, and gloves covered his claw-like hands. Henri’s body was shrouded in blankets in order to conceal his diminished form. It was all part of his disguise as an invalid. Henri had no doubt that he looked ghastly. All in all, he thought his mother was handling things quite well.

Hundreds of people had gathered to greet the ship. Among the crowd, they saw waving banners, some of which read: “Welcome home, heroes!” “Congratulations to the Bell expedition!” and “Greetings,
Goliathus hercules
, king of the jungle!”

Nearly everyone held a little paper flag with a picture of a specimen of
Goliathus hercules
printed upon it. The image was one that Maestro Antonio had drawn and sent to the British Entomological Society chairman with the news of their successful mission. An announcement of their discovery had been published in the newspapers, and readers had been encouraged to cut out the flag and come greet the explorers.

A large and high podium had been erected. The chairmen of both the British Entomological and the Geographical Societies stood near it waiting to greet the expedition party. A dozen very serious-looking dignitaries were seated to the right of a lectern from which speeches would be made. Unable to sit still in his reserved chair, a beaming Professor Young hopped from foot to foot and waved wildly to Henri.

The chairman of the British Entomological Society stepped behind the lectern. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are delighted to welcome back our returning heroes all the way from the distant colony of British Malaya. Let me introduce to you Mr. Henri Bell, Mr. Antonio Ghirardelli, Mr. William Fleming, and Miss Robin Sayers.”

As each of their names was called, they waved to the adoring crowd.

“They bring with them a creature of legend. Yes, a creature so very rare, so mysterious, that many a learned scientist did not even believe it existed. Their journey took them into uncharted jungle where deadly creatures awaited! Ferocious tigers stalked them, stealthy crocodiles lurked in the swamps, and snakes able to swallow a man whole dangled from the trees!”

The crowd oohed and aahed at the mention of each animal. “Persistence against all odds, including grueling weather conditions, tropical disease,” the chairman made a nod in Henri’s direction, “and hostile natives could not defeat the intrepid party!”

“What hostile natives?” whispered Robin to Billy.

He shrugged. “Makes a better story, I suppose.”

“After many months of tracking the elusive
Goliathus hercules,
they at last confronted their quarry in a dense and lonely area of the jungle. In the dead of night, the expedition party was surrounded by a swarming horde of beetles driven mad by the scent of blood. The savage insects came to attack, kill, and feed. With spiked horns raised and razor-sharp pinchers at the ready, they struck! Suffice to say that while our champions prevailed, they have some battle scars as a result of the encounter.”

Much to Billy’s embarrassment, the chairman pointed to the scar on his cheek. Then the chairman signaled to Maestro Antonio to bring the cage to the lectern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on this historic day, which you will recall to your children and grandchildren, we formally announce that the expedition party led by Mr. Henri Bell, sponsored by Her Majesty Queen Victoria and the British Entomological and Geographical societies, has discovered and captured
Goliathus hercules
! I present him to you!”

With that announcement, the chairman raised the cage above his head as if he were holding a championship trophy and said, “Three cheers for Henri Bell!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

People cheered, applauded, and threw their hats and flags into the air.

Across the podium Henri looked at his mother, tears of joy streaming down her face. Professor Young now held the beetle in his cage. From time to time, he lifted it to the crowd for another cheer. When he wasn’t doing that, he put his face near the bars of the cage and spoke to Prince in his very poor insect language.

“Are you hungry? You. Me. We talk much!” And, “Thank you, thank you! Me happy. You happy.”

Henri doubted that Prince was very happy, but at least he didn’t snip off the professor’s nose.

Henri gazed absentmindedly across at the dignitaries who had risen to their feet for a standing ovation. Suddenly he realized that one of them was a woman—a woman wearing a large black hat. Jolted into alertness, Henri was about to leap up from his wheelchair when Billy stopped him.

“Henri!” whispered Billy. “You’re not supposed to get out the wheelchair.”

“But Mrs. Black—she’s here!”

“What? Where?”

“Over there, where the dignitaries are standing.”

Robin and Billy stood up, scanned the group, and then quickly sat down, realizing that they had drawn attention to themselves.

“It’s her!” said Robin.

“It’s not her! Just a woman in a black hat, and quite an ugly hat too. It’s definitely Mrs. Black’s style, but it’s not her,” said Billy. “Come on, Henri. Agatha Black probably didn’t get out of the jungle alive. We’ve been over this a hundred times. Now relax and enjoy the moment!”

But Henri couldn’t relax. The speeches and applause went on and on. The chairman of the Geographical Society was now at the lectern and invited the crowd to attend the opening of the British Empire Exhibition in the Queen’s building of Earl’s Court the following evening.
Goliathus hercules
would be on display for all to see.

At last the welcoming ceremony concluded, and the explorers, along with Henri’s mother and Professor Young, were ushered to a very fine carriage that was to take them to their hotel. Henri looked out the window, searching the crowd for a tall woman in black. He felt that sick feeling—the boiling in his stomach that he had felt in the jungle—kindle inside of him. That was not good. He didn’t want to cause a scene on the very day of their arrival in the middle of London. He turned from the carriage window and tried to look interested in the conversation of his companions.

“Everything all right, dear?” asked Henri’s mother. They were taking tea in their hotel room. Prince was out of his cage, much to the consternation of his mother.

“Oh. Yes, yes. Just a little tired, I suppose,” responded Henri.

“Of course. It’s understandable. Such a long and exciting day,” she said agreeably, but she cast a wary glance at Prince, who appeared to be lapping up tea from Henri’s saucer.

Henri took a sip of his tea and began what he knew would be the most difficult conversation of his life.

“Mother, I have news of Father.” His mother looked surprised and put down her teacup. “I didn’t write to you because I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”

From his coat, Henri pulled out the envelope that contained the two pictures his father had left in the village before he had entered the jungle. He passed it to his mother. She pulled out the photographs and looked at each carefully. Tears began to roll down her face.

“I remember when these were taken. Where did you get them?”

“Father left them in the village for safekeeping before he entered the uncharted jungle. He said he would pick them up when he returned.”

Henri’s mother nodded and put the photographs on the table. She picked up her teacup and tried to take a sip, but as she bent her head down, her tears fell into the cup. She placed the cup back on the table and put her head in her hands. Prince, who had ambled over to the photographs, suddenly opened and closed his wings in rapid succession.

“Stop it,” Henri said to Prince in insect language. He got up from his chair and put his arms around his mother consolingly.

“Why? Why did he go? Why would he go into the jungle all alone?” she cried.

“I don’t know. It’s a mystery.” Henri was crying now too.

“What do you think happened? Do you think he was killed by an animal?”

“I don’t know, Mother. I don’t think we should speculate. There’s nothing to be gained from it. It will only make us more unhappy.”

As he said it, Henri knew that privately his mother would torture herself, wondering what had befallen her husband, just as he did. Even more hurtful, though, was the thought that Father would do something so reckless and leave his family behind without a word.

She looked up. “You’re right, of course. I don’t want to imagine it.”

Henri knelt beside her, and she put his hands on her shoulders. “Well, I have my son still. We have each other,” she said bracingly.

“Yes, Mother, you have me.”

They held each other for some time. In the meantime, Prince marched about the tea table. He knocked over the sugar bowl and the little milk jug. Climbing onto a plate of neatly arranged buns, he speared the pastries with his horns and tossed each and every one of them to the floor. Then he snipped off the heads of the flowers that had been placed in a small vase. He seemed to get some satisfaction out of knocking Henri’s teacup to the floor where it smashed to pieces. Despite the commotion, Henri and his mother ignored him.

Finally, Henri stood up. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He could see her bracing herself. “I suppose you’ve noticed some changes in me.”

She didn’t try to deny it but nodded her head and said, “Yes, I have. Are you all right? Have you seen a doctor? We can call for one.”

“I’m not sure who can help me. I’ve talked to Professor Young about it.”

“He’s not a doctor, Henri. He’s an entomologist. How can he help?”

“Well…” Henri removed his gloves and his turban. His antennae sprang up and, as usual, began to explore their surroundings, unbidden by him.

Henri’s mother gasped. “What are those?”

“Antennae.” Sighing, he said, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that, though.”

He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his third set of limbs.

“Ohh!” cried his mother.

With that small cry, two things happened, one after the other. Henri’s mother fainted, slumping from her chair to the floor. And then Prince took to the air and began to attack Henri.

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