HONEST TO GORKY

“You, whoever you are, are standing on Gorky’s doorstep!” I said “ And I am Gorky.”

“Gorky? You’re a ladybug and you're named after the Russian socialist novelist Maxim Gorky?”

Of all things on an early Monday morning in the Wild Wild Woods, what should I find standing outside of the paperbag that is my house and home, but a brown bear creature with big snowshoe-sized feet,

“Gorky’s my undercover name. I saw the name on a paperback in the library's trash bin. What’s your name? Are you a grizzly bear ?”

“No,I’m a desert kangaroo, and my name is “Perkins.”

"You're named after the king of rockabilly, Carl Perkins ?”

“It’s just the name my folks gave me. I’m sorry I startled you, Gorky. I live in the Flatland desert nearby. It gets lonely out there, especially when there’s a sandstorm, and everyone hides. I’m too big to hide anywhere. Anyway, nobody ever wants to play with me. Would you like to sit inside my pouch? It's warm in there. You’ll be safe, if you are undercover. Kangaroos have pouches as a reward for their kindness. You can tell me your story, and I’ll tell you mine.”

And that’s how it began. Kangaroo and me. Two exiles. Two stories. Three names (counting my undercover name).

First of all, dear humans, I am not a bug, as I told Perkins. Technically speaking, all ladybugs are beetles.We are one of 5000 species of Coccinellidae worldwide. While I am a rose red ladybug, some of us are orange, yellow or black or even white . “And I am the heroine of our story, “I told him.”Not because I am red or because I am named after a Russian writer but because I have nine black spots on my back! Not three or six like some ladybugs but nine!

And the more spots on a ladybug , the better. They promise you humans, when you encounter us, months, even years of good luck when a wish you make comes true. I My nine spots make me a super ladybug. But I haven't always been so lucky.

Because I am no bigger than the button on your overcoat, and too small not to be noticed by most folk, I need to be undercover much of the time. Because, believe it or not, Perkins and me we live in a fairytale. And it is not all glass slippers and pots of gold in a fairytale. Not on your fairy godmother! My real name is Beebee Finneally. I don't use it much anymore, since I was exiled from the castle.

Like I said, life in even the nicest of fairytales is full of arrogant, vindictive kings and entitled princes and snooty princesses, along with evil sorcerers and flying monkeys. Life is especially scary, when you are small enough to be mistaken for a flower or squashed underfoot like a nutshell. Yes, I have escaped being eaten, stomped on, and captured by small children with sticky fingers. But every fairytale has a knight in shining armor, and mine is a kangaroo with very big feet and an even bigger heart.

After that first morning, Perkins, with his firehose of a tail and his big, weepy, brown eyes and his rabbit soft ears, became my #1 friend and protector. I cuddle inside his pouch on a cold day or perch on the edge of it as we go about our fairytale adventures. And misadventures.

Perkins is a part-time gardener at the Cobblestone Castle right up there on the hill. And we Finnelly Family ladybugs used to be a treasured member of the royal family.

Before Perkins came along, I was friends with the king’s sweet daughter the princess Sylviia who walks with crutches, like Tiny Tim. I would perch on Sylvia’s puffy sleeves when she hobbled around the rose garden talking to the birds, or I would sit on her pointer finger when she sat with eyes closed listening to the musicians playing in the courtyard. We were all honorary members of the royal family invited to all the royal celebrations.

Until, one day the bad- tempered King Declan flew into one of his rages when Sylvia disobeyed him and as punishment, he locked her and her crutches in the lower depths of the castle in a very small room all alone even without her shaggy castle dog, Shuffles. .

Beebee to the rescue. I summoned Perkins who summoned Shuffles who stole the key to the prison cell from the king’s chamber. Then, Perkins holding the key in his paws, got the door open and freed Sylvia. Shuffles licked Sylvia's little feet, Perkins wrapped his warm furry arms around her and I attached myself to Sylvia’s tiny wrist. “ Touch my spots, Sylvia, make a wish.A big wish,Sylvia."

Sylva squeezed her eyes shut and gently touched the spots on my wings, one by one.

We could hear the footsteps of the king thundering down the stone stairs to the lower depths of the castle, with the castle dogs panting at his heels. When he got to the bottom step and saw the open prison cell, the king took Sylvia by both shoulders and threw her and her crutches into the arms of the guards.

“You two are banished from Cobblestone Castle forever.”, the king snarled, waving at me and reaching out to box Perkins' ears. .“You and all the other ladybugs”,he roared pointing at me, “ are barred forever, Did you hear me? Forever more,” The dogs were snarling.with teeth bared, as their master was about to turn on his heels and head up the stairs.

But then a miracle! The king suddenly stopped in his tracks, threw his crown to the floor and began to weep. The dogs folded their legs and curled up like lambs at his feet. And the whole Finneally family of ladybugs appeared creating a circle around the four of us, like a warm embrace.

The room lit up and a carpet of dandelions appeared at our feet (a favorite ladybug snack, after all). The king knelt down, reached for his daughter and hugged her to his chest asking for her forgiveness , then he patted Perkins’ head, and shook his paws and handed him back his gardener's shears.I could feel all nine spots tingling on my back!!!

Then he gently beckoned me to sit on his hand passing me back with great gentleness to his daughter.

My magic spots saved the day, the king, the princess, the ladybugs family , Perkins the kangaroo and me, Gorky.

Sylvia had used her wish for peace and love in her family, in her father’s heart ,for Perkins, and most of all for the ladybugs, including me, Gorky.

Sometimes living in a fairy tale is not so bad. Honest to Gorky.

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