GLASS SOUP by Jonathan Carroll (funny books to read .txt) 📕

“I had a framed specimen of a Blue Morpho up on the wall in here for years but then I sold it. A seven-inch wingspan, Isabelle. Can you imagine that? Amazing!”

Unable to wait any longer, she opened her eyes and saw Petras sitting on the floor facing her. His elbows were on his spread knees and he was smiling his missing-tooth smile at her. He was even wearing the tan construction boots she remembered he liked so much. “The top of the Blue Morpho’s wings are a magnificent electric blue. A blue you cannot imagine until you have seen it. But that is only one of the reasons why it is a favorite of mine. The second reason will be helpful to you now, I believe.”

Because he stood so low to the ground, when false Broximon looked into the store he had to look up. As a result, he was the first to see one of the three large blue butterflies fluttering around inside Petras Urbsys’s shop. Out of nowhere a second appeared and then a third. He stared at them for a while with a child’s wonderment. The sight of those gorgeous butterflies flying around in there was eerie and out of kilter. Particularly because they kept appearing and disappearing. There they were, now they’re gone—nope! Here they are again. How did they do that in plain sight?

When he brought it to Leni’s attention she seemed unimpressed. There were other things on her mind. One minute she had peered into the store and seen Isabelle crouched alone in a corner fiddling with a telephone. The next time she looked in the window, Isabelle was in that same position talking to Petras Urbsys.

“Why are there blue butterflies inside that store?”

Leni was straining so hard to see what else was going on inside “that store” that she barely managed to answer “I dunno.” About the only thing she did know was Isabelle and Petras were watching the butterflies with great concentration. The old man gestured toward them with both hands as if explaining something about them to her.

He was. Before the Blue Morphos flew into the room, Petras explained to her the difference between mimicry and camouflage in the animal kingdom. Isabelle began by thinking What does this have to do with what’s going on now? but she remained quiet and just listened. Soon she was listening with interest that grew into genuine pleasure, as had usually happened during her visits with Petras. He was a natural teacher. His enthusiasm was contagious and made subjects intriguing that never in a million years would have appealed to her if he hadn’t introduced and talked about them. When he found something fascinating he was eager and worked hard to make you think so too.

When the butterflies appeared out of nowhere they were as striking as Petras had said. Isabelle wanted to talk about them and ask questions, but he stopped her and said, “Just watch them a while before saying anything more.” She did that and noticed the same thing Broximon had observed—the butterflies seemed to appear and disappear as they flew in and out of the light around the room. It was not one specific place where it happened either. She could not figure out how it happened but found it very intriguing and mysterious.

Petras watched her watching the butterflies. He was hoping she would come to the right conclusions by herself but if not, he would tell her the necessary information anyway. Much better though if she discovered things for herself. The more of this she worked through on her own, the easier it would be for Isabelle to find and use her important reserves when it was necessary.

Once when she visited him in the store he had been eating a large piece of chocolate cake from the bakery across the street. It was gooey and in his enthusiasm to devour it, he had bits of chocolate and crumbs stuck to his mouth in several places. Without a word she reached into her purse, pulled out a paper tissue, and handed it to him. Petras took it but put it down until he had finished eating and in that eager process, gotten even more cake on his face. Only when he was done and had sighed contentedly did he use her tissue.

“That’s the difference between us, Isabelle. You see a crumb and want to wipe it away. But I believe people should live like an old man eating cake. For him there is nothing else left in his life but that delicious sweetness in his mouth. So he enjoys it more than you ever could and doesn’t worry about how the crumbs look.”

Speaking to him now, she mentioned that cake incident and said she was trying to look at these butterflies the same way he ate his cake. Petras grinned but said nothing. She rose from the floor and walked over to the part of the room the butterflies had chosen, for the moment, to do their air dance.

Outside, Leni watched it happen through the front window but it left her even more confused about what to do next. Petras watched too, still not saying a thing. Indifferent, Broximon had turned away and was content watching the cars go by on the street.

The three butterflies didn’t appear to mind Isabelle’s presence, even when she moved up close and walked here and there to observe them from different angles.

“Their wings are schizophrenic.”

Petras shifted his position. “What do you mean?”

“The tops are blue but the bottoms are black. At least they look black.”

“Why do you think that is?”

She kept staring at the butterflies. “I don’t know.”

“Watch what happens to them when they fly in and out of the light. But it’s better to sit down and watch from the floor.”

In and out of the light they dipped and danced, spun and played tag with one another.

“They disappear. They disappear when they fly