Three

A frog was singing on a lily pad but stopped when he saw the crow and took a huge leap on to the grass. “You must be George,” he croaked. “I’m Conti, a humble but talented frog.” He puffed himself out. “I’m a tenor frog. I sing classic tunes. I’m happy to see you, George. We heard you were coming but why did you take so long?”

George didn’t answer for he hadn’t heard. His jaw had dropped open and his eyes widened at the sight of the grandest, most beautiful creatures in shimmering yellows, oranges and blues, fluttering over the pond.

“Are they fair...?”

“They are butterflies,” a voice said. He turned round and held his breath. An enormous spider was standing beside him. She had a pleasant appearance that carried superiority and leadership, but also some sadness deep down.

“I am Thelma,” the spider said with a wide smile. “Welcome, to Blossom Valley, George. You’ve come at a good time. We’ll be celebrating the arrival of spring soon, as we do every year. We’re waiting for the cuckoo to fly over and officially announce it. The butterflies you are marvelling at lived here before any other creature, and so did their ancestors.”

George watched them as they gracefully glided over the water lilies and beamed at him.

“Hello, George.” They smiled and their eyes shone like diamonds.

“Hello, to you too,” he replied in the softest voice he could muster.

“I never knew such creatures existed,” George whispered. “So noble and grand.”

“They have a long history of grandness,” Thelma said. “They are descendants of a kingdom that once stood right here in Blossom Valley. An evil force fell upon it and destroyed it. These few are all there are left of it. The young butterfly in blue is Prince Orpheo and next to him is Princess Estella, his bride to be. The other young ladies are members of the family. In time you will know their names. Sadly, the queen, Estella’s mother, hasn’t been with us for some long years now. Estella’s father, King Iolas, is away on a long journey, but he’ll be back to bless his daughter’s wedding which is planned for after our Spring Celebration.”

George hesitated for a moment then he asked, “What was the evil force?”

The crow’s, question startled Thelma and her brow furrowed with annoyance. A newcomer shouldn’t be asking questions, she thought to herself, and she wasn’t prepared to tell him. Aside from her, only Plato and the butterflies knew, but they never talked about it for the memory was too horrific.

After the kingdom was lost, Blossom Valley plunged into desolate and dark times until all kinds of creatures from neighbouring and far away woods, hills and plains moved in. They built homes and made families and as the years passed Blossom Valley became a large community of all sorts of creatures. They wondered that the rare beauty of the butterflies wasn’t that of the ordinary butterflies they had seen fluttering over flowers, in woods and meadows. They made up their minds that these were magical creatures from some distant world and left it at that. They fawned on them but otherwise regarded them as members of the community like everyone else.

George was bewitched by them and it was normal that he’d be curious and, Thelma considered, George did no wrong in wanting to know more about the lost kingdom. After all, he wouldn’t have asked if she hadn’t mentioned it. She shouldn’t have frowned at a creature who had been orphaned only hours ago and prayed that George hadn’t noticed her annoyance.

It took her a while before the words came out of her mouth.

“The story goes back many years, George, and it’s best left alone. You’ll soon get to know everyone here including the butterflies who spend the mornings at the schools. They teach the ant classes, music and singing.”

George looked baffled and Thelma noticed it. “Our ant choir is one of the best in the ant world. The bigger creatures, those who want to learn music or dancing, go to the Music Hall. Our butterflies who are gifted with exceptional voices teach them singing and Mr B Rabbit, a tap-dancing champion, teaches them to tap-dance. Our community is made up of families of all kinds and sizes of creatures. Each family lives its own private life, and all have a say in our community. All families we join together in one peaceful greater family. We gather at dusk to mix together, hear one another’s news or stories and have fun. What we do not allow in our community”- her voice rose - “is bullying or harming one another, and of course we unite against any threat to our community.”

Her voice was clear and determined and George thought that a spider, even one her size couldn’t lead such a large community unless she had some secret or perhaps magical power hidden inside her.

“Goodness!” Thelma shouted and George jolted out of his thoughts. “I’ve got carried away. I’m sorry if I’ve bored you, George. Don’t look so apprehensive. Cheer up. We’re glad to have you in our family. You’ll be happy with us.”

A loud caw made George jump.

“It’s the crow family,” Thelma explained. “They are on the ivy wall, waiting to meet you. We’ll see you later, George. Your friends will bring you down to the gathering.”