“Psssssst!”
My eyes sprang open. What was that weird noise? I turned my head and almost crashed into my mom’s face. I jumped.
My mom laughed. “Sorry to startle you, sweetie!” She lifted a hand to show me a fully packed backpack. “I told your dad we had cabin fever and needed to go for an early morning hike.”
I had to squint because it was so bright in my room. Wait a second! Bright! Sun!
“It’s sunny!” I exclaimed.
“Yep.” Mom nodded. “The news said that all the snow should melt this afternoon. That wild storm has finally passed, and it’s going to warm up today.”
I listened as I shoved on my snow gear.
“But this morning it’s 31 degrees out,” Mom continued. “Do you remember what that means?”
I nodded. “Water has a freezing point of 32 degrees. Since 31 degrees is below that, everything will be frozen. But once it’s above 32 degrees, the water won’t stay frozen . . . so the ice and snow will melt?”
Mom smiled. “You got it! It’s supposed to be 55 by this afternoon, so it will seem downright hot!”
We paused briefly in the kitchen where I grabbed a piece of buttered toast my mom had made for breakfast on the go. Sassafras filled his cheeks with cat food and then waited patiently to be outfitted with his cat snowshoes.
This time a prancing Sassafras led the way. I tried to calm my hammering heart. I really hoped the plants would be OK. And the caterflies and their eggs were safe!
I slowed down as the catnip plants came into view. Oh no. All the catnip plants around the cave entrance had wilted. Several of the leaves were brown. What had I done?
A tear rolled down my cheek. What would the caterflies do? Their babies needed to eat the host plant—and lots of it—as soon as they hatched. Only a few plants were left. Would their baby caterpillars starve because of my mistake?
Mom came over and put a hand under my chin. She tilted my face up to hers. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. But first, let’s find the caterflies!”
I wiped the snow off a nearby rock with my glove, and Sassafras sat down and waited. He kept glancing at the catnip, but he knew we needed to save it for the caterflies. I was proud of him—it must have been like sitting in a candy shop and not eating any of the candy!
The three of us looked around, but there was no sign of the caterflies. I was terrified to walk closer to the cave—what if I accidentally stepped on one?
Sassafras sniffed the air and let out a loud “Meeeeooooowwww.”
I spotted some movement near the cave entrance. I tapped Mom’s shoulder and pointed. What looked like a small mound of snow began to quake . . . and shake . . . and then it exploded into a dozen caterflies. A small flock flew straight toward Sassafras.
He looked at me with big eyes. Floomp! Ten caterflies instantly coated him. His whole body seemed to vibrate with caterfly purrs.
Over the loud rumbling purrs, I managed to hear them say, “You brought us a Sassafras! It is so warm! Thank you!”
I knelt down. “I was so worried about you. There was too much wind and snow to come yesterday. Is everyone OK?”
One of the caterflies that came to our barn left Sassafras and landed on my wrist. “Your tricks worked, and the ice cracked.
We rescued our eggs! But then the snow and wind started again. We didn’t want them to get trapped a second time, so we set them on a rock by the front of the cave and all piled on to protect them. We were so happy to see the sun this morning! But what is wrong with our plants?”
I sighed. “I made a mistake using the salt. It melted the ice, but it hurt your plants. Salt makes water leave the plants, which is why they wilted and turned brown. I am so sorry. I didn’t know it would do that!” Another tear slid down my cheek.
The caterfly rubbed its face against my wrist and purred lightly. “It’s OK, Zoey. You rescued our eggs. Besides, a few plants still look healthy. That might be enough for our caterpillars once they hatch.”
I looked over the field of catnip plants. About half of them were damaged. I shook my head. It didn’t look like enough.
Mom put her arm around my shoulder.
“We need more catnip plants,” I said. “I don’t think what’s left will be enough to feed the baby caterpillars.”
Mom nodded. “What do you think we should do?”
I reached into my backpack and popped on my Thinking Goggles. We needed more plants . . . more plants . . . hmmmm. The first word that popped into my head was seeds. But there weren’t any flowers yet and seeds take an awfully long time to grow. The next word was my friend Sophie. Sophie? Really, Thinking Goggles? I mean, it would be fun to play with her later, but . . . OH!
“The African violets!” I practically shouted.
Mom smiled.
Before I got distracted by the snow, I’d been working on a surprise for my friends in our greenhouse. My mom showed me a trick where I could clip leaves from our African violet plant and plant the stems in the soil. The stems of that plant can grow roots, which is super weird. And amazing. After the leaves grow into plants, I can give them to my friends at the end of the year. “Can catnip stems grow roots, too? Could we clip off leaves from the catnip and plant them in soil to make new plants in our greenhouse?”
“That sounds like an excellent plan! And you’re right. Herbs like catnip can do exactly what the African violets do—grow new plants from part of the original plant.”
I raised the caterfly on my wrist up to my face. “How would you feel about moving to our greenhouse for a few weeks?”
“A greenhouse? Does it have a Sassafras?” the caterfly asked.
“It does have a Sassafras. And it’s nice and warm.” With one finger, I gently petted the head of the caterfly.
“Warm! And a Sassafras! Yes!” exclaimed the caterfly.
“Then let’s get to work,” Mom said. She walked to a healthy catnip plant and waved me over. “Zoey, you’ll need to clip off the ends of the plants here,” she said, pointing to the tip of a stem with about five new leaves unfurling, “and put them in this bag.”
Once I’d collected the clippings, we headed back to the greenhouse, caterflies and all.