Episode-3: Ophryocystis Elektroscirrha

Alice sat in her giant, puffy reading chair with a red pen, leafing through a colleague’s soon to be published paper on Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, a protozoan infecting and nestling under the wing scales of monarch butterflies. O. elektroscirrha sapped the butterflies’ strength and shortened their lifespans. Monarchs over-wintered in the eucalyptus trees in nearby Morro Bay so they were easy fodder for scientific study by some of her less than ambitious colleagues. Alice studied the blues, the Polyommatinae, like Nabokov. She planted buckwheat and milkweed in her garden to attract Icaricia acmon and secretly hated it when monarchs overtook the milkweed in the spring.

A deep red blob soaked through the pages where her pen-tip rested as Alice looked out her windows at the milkweed swaying in the breeze. It was October and the monarchs would be leaving Canada and Washington and heading toward Morro Bay. The sound of her front door opening startled her and she dropped the red pen onto her chair. It wasn’t the first red ink mark on the soft velvet and probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Where are you? Get dressed.” her mother’s husky voice, like a stalking cat, crept through the house to where Alice sat. She shuddered, then heaved herself out of the chair and made her way to Patricia.

“Hi, Mom, what are you doing here? Hi Sisko.” Sisko scowled at Alice, no doubt this was an unscheduled trip.

“You have a date tonight. Look at his profile.” Patricia said, straight faced and holding out a printed sheet of paper.

“No I do not. I’m working.” Alice waved her own ink splotched paper at her mother as proof.

“I set it up for you, he’ll be here in forty-five minutes. Come on, let’s go.” Patricia moved toward Alice and made shooing motions with her hands. Alice glanced over her mother’s shoulder at Sisko who glared at her and gave her a curt nod. Alice shook her head.

“No. I’m not ready and you can’t do this to me. I won’t go. I won’t get ready.” she leaned against the kitchen counter and folded her arms. Patricia’s face softened.

“Honey, I know this is hard, but you need to move on. And ‘Stockbroker324’ seems like the perfect guy.”

“Mom!” Alice’s chest felt tight. Joe had been an artist, a good one too. Their lifestyles meshed perfectly. As Alice wandered the country in search of blues, Joe followed, sketching and taking pictures. Butterflies showed up in a lot of his works. Even in the darker ones he had painted later on.

“He makes good money.”

“I don’t need money.” Alice was near tears, wishing her mother would issue her favorite threat.

“You need stability.”

“Mother the stock market is hardly stable,” Sisko broke in. Alice saw the opportunity to distract her mother.

“Why doesn’t Sisko have to get a man?” Alice pointed accusingly at her little sister. Sisko was twenty-seven with a successful knitted accessory business and still living at home. Patricia just rolled her eyes.

“Sisko is special, you just leave her be,” she said. Sisko’s mouth dropped open, but she thought better of arguing. Patricia checked her watch, “you now have only thirty minutes to get ready. I suggest you hurry. What can it hurt? If you don’t like him you don’t like him.” Alice shook her head and mouthed the word ‘no’.

“He’s not that bad looking, Alice,” Sisko took the profile from her mother and handed it to Alice.

“He looks,” Alice searched for the right word, “opulent,” was all she could come up with.

“Read more,” Patricia beamed.

“His hobbies are ‘racquet ball and shopping for his girl’,” Alice wrinkled her nose and shook her head again. Patricia’s smiled broadened. Alice was beyond words at this point so she continued with Stockbroker324’s, “He wants to find, ‘a sweet, really good looking girl to have his children’.”

“Oh, Mother! I didn’t even read that part,” Sisko grabbed the paper, “he wants a womb with nice tits. Alice doesn’t have nice tits.” Alice clenched her fists and ran to her bedroom. Sisko sprinted after her. Patricia waddled.

Twenty minutes later, as the doorbell rang. Alice unlocked her bedroom door and reappeared in jeans, flip-flops, and a black polo shirt from Target. Her hair was up in a pony tail and she had mascara and lip gloss on.

“Oh, honey, no.” Patricia shook her head in disbelief.

“I’ll go on your dates mother. But none of these men will like me.” She stomped to the door, her mother and Sisko close behind her.

“At least she looks hot in those jeans,” Sisko offered as Alice put her hand on the doorknob.