The Island at the End of Everything by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Author:Kiran Millwood Hargrave
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House

BUTTERFLY LESSONS

M

ari is right. The following Monday Sister Teresa announces in a disapproving voice that we will begin to have lepidoptery classes once a week. Mr Zamora comes to our first class clutching a sheaf of papers under one arm. It is like how he entered church all those weeks ago, except the sharpness of his gestures is exaggerated by how much weight he has lost. There are dark hollows under his eyes, shadows where once there was flesh. His shirt hangs loosely, a large gap between his collar and his Adam’s apple. He has tied string around the waist of his trousers to keep them up.

He clears his throat. Some of the boys at the back won’t stop talking. San and Datu and the other older boys have forgotten how mesmerized they were by the hatching and have gone back to acting like they don’t care about anything. When Sister Teresa announced the classes, they all rolled their eyes and Datu said, ‘Butterflies are for girls,’ though when Sister Teresa asked him why he thought so, he only spluttered and shrugged.

Mr Zamora claps his hands twice, but they still don’t stop. He holds up a hand and rakes his long fingernails across the board with a teeth-chattering screech. We hold our hands over our ears, and he smiles.

‘When I am ready to begin, you must be ready to begin. Anyone who does not behave will be punished. Understood?’

The boys mutter.

‘Good.’ Mr Zamora starts to line up his papers on the desk. He does this very, very slowly, and again I am taken back to Culion, with him lining up his magnifying glass and tweezers.

‘So, lepidoptery.’ Mr Zamora writes it on the blackboard, pressing too hard with the chalk. ‘I once met a stupid man who thought it was “leper-doptery”—’

I bristle. He’s talking about Bondoc, in Doctor Tomas’ house.

‘But in fact the words have the same root. “Leprosy” comes from lepido, meaning “scaly”.’ He grimaces. ‘Having encountered such people myself, I can attest to the suitability of the word. It is quite disgusting to behold.’

My face flushes with anger and a chair scrapes near the back. I turn to see Datu on his feet, his face thunderous. He is thinking of his father, I’m sure, just as I am thinking of Nanay. ‘How dare—’ the boy begins, but Mr Zamora looks up sharply, and smiles at Datu. It is as scary as a shout.

‘I think you had better sit down, boy.’

After a moment’s hesitation, Datu does so. The class lets out a collective sigh of relief.

‘And Lepidoptera, the word for the order of butterflies and moths,’ continues Mr Zamora, switching back to his official, class-teaching voice, ‘means “scaled wing”. Butterfly wings are actually made up of many overlapping scales – though I’m sure you will agree the effect is far more pleasing on wings than it is on faces.’

Datu makes another angry sound, stifled just too late.

‘Come to the front, boy,’ says Mr Zamora in a low voice. He still doesn’t address any of us Culion children by name.

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