that always seemed a little long and a neatly trimmed beard filled with gray streaks.
“Did you know,” he had said to Brennan, standing in the sun and grass in front of the school, “that the beetles are the most numerous species on earth?”
“What?” Brennan had been in a hurry and was slightly annoyed at the delay.
“Beetles. They’re the most numerous species of life on earth. Do you suppose that means God made the earth for beetles?”
“I beg your pardon?” Brennan was confused. He had taken biology but Homesley hadn’t said four words to him. As in most of his classes Brennan had taken a desk in the back of the room and spent much of his time trying to be ignored.
And now this teacher had stopped him on the school lawn and was talking to him.
“I said, beetles are the most numerous species on earth—so do you suppose that means God made the earth just for beetles? That beetles are God’s favorite thing?” He stared down at Brennan, his eyes serious, but a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t know,” Brennan said, and thought, God, I sound dumb. Maybe I
am
dumb. “I guess so.”
“Aren’t you curious about them?”
“Beetles?”
“Yes. Don’t you want to know about something that is the most numerous thing on earth?”
“Well … I don’t know. I guess so. Yes. I guess I am curious about beetles.” The sun was on him and he had to squint to look up at Homesley.
“Good. Let’s find one.”
“What?”
“Help me find a beetle. There’s probably one within five feet of where we’re standing.”
And he put a pair of reading glasses on, which made his face look round and almost clownlike, dropped to his hands and knees and started looking through the grass, moving blades of grass sideways with his fingers.
Brennan stared at him. There were other kids going past and they stopped to watch.
“Come on.” Homesley looked up. “Give me a hand. It’s easier with two looking.”
And still Brennan hesitated. Then he thought, oh, well, maybe it will help my grade and he dropped to his knees and started looking through the grass with Homesley.
“What are you looking for?” A tall kid in the eleventh grade stopped.
“Beetles,” Brennan said.
“Beetles? You mean like bugs?”
“Yes,” Brennan said, without looking up, wishing he could drop into a hole in the ground.
“They’re the most numerous species on earth.”
“Oh.”
“Mr. Homesley wanted to find one and I’m helping him.”
“Oh.”
The boy had walked away shaking his head and Brennan kept his eyes down into the grass.
And he saw one.
A black bug, almost an inch long, a shiny black beetle. “I found one.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s black and shiny and about an inch long.” Brennan put his finger down and poked the beetle. It raised its hind end. He poked it again.
“It’s probably a blister beetle. Don’t touch it.”
But it was too late. The beetle emitted a squirt of some kind of fluid from beneath its rear end, squirted it on Brennan’s finger. Instantly there was a sharp burning sensation, a quick sting.
“Ow …”
“Exactly. They have a defense mechanism that’s pretty effective. You’ll hurt there for a while and might get a blister, but you’ll be all right. Did you know that some beetles have a small turret gun down there and they can aim all around their body and hit with incredible accuracy?”
Brennan shook his hand. The spot on his finger hurt like a sting. “No. I didn’t.”
“Oh, yes, beetles are fascinating. A person could spend his whole life just studying them. Just beetles.” He sat up, looking straight into Brennan’s eyes, his face serious. “I can’t believe you don’t want to know things.”
“But … well, I do.”
“You don’t seem to want to know biology.”
“That’s different … I’m just not good at it.”
“Nonsense. You found the beetle, didn’t you?”
“But that’s not the same.…”
“But
“Did you know,” he had said to Brennan, standing in the sun and grass in front of the school, “that the beetles are the most numerous species on earth?”
“What?” Brennan had been in a hurry and was slightly annoyed at the delay.
“Beetles. They’re the most numerous species of life on earth. Do you suppose that means God made the earth for beetles?”
“I beg your pardon?” Brennan was confused. He had taken biology but Homesley hadn’t said four words to him. As in most of his classes Brennan had taken a desk in the back of the room and spent much of his time trying to be ignored.
And now this teacher had stopped him on the school lawn and was talking to him.
“I said, beetles are the most numerous species on earth—so do you suppose that means God made the earth just for beetles? That beetles are God’s favorite thing?” He stared down at Brennan, his eyes serious, but a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t know,” Brennan said, and thought, God, I sound dumb. Maybe I
am
dumb. “I guess so.”
“Aren’t you curious about them?”
“Beetles?”
“Yes. Don’t you want to know about something that is the most numerous thing on earth?”
“Well … I don’t know. I guess so. Yes. I guess I am curious about beetles.” The sun was on him and he had to squint to look up at Homesley.
“Good. Let’s find one.”
“What?”
“Help me find a beetle. There’s probably one within five feet of where we’re standing.”
And he put a pair of reading glasses on, which made his face look round and almost clownlike, dropped to his hands and knees and started looking through the grass, moving blades of grass sideways with his fingers.
Brennan stared at him. There were other kids going past and they stopped to watch.
“Come on.” Homesley looked up. “Give me a hand. It’s easier with two looking.”
And still Brennan hesitated. Then he thought, oh, well, maybe it will help my grade and he dropped to his knees and started looking through the grass with Homesley.
“What are you looking for?” A tall kid in the eleventh grade stopped.
“Beetles,” Brennan said.
“Beetles? You mean like bugs?”
“Yes,” Brennan said, without looking up, wishing he could drop into a hole in the ground.
“They’re the most numerous species on earth.”
“Oh.”
“Mr. Homesley wanted to find one and I’m helping him.”
“Oh.”
The boy had walked away shaking his head and Brennan kept his eyes down into the grass.
And he saw one.
A black bug, almost an inch long, a shiny black beetle. “I found one.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s black and shiny and about an inch long.” Brennan put his finger down and poked the beetle. It raised its hind end. He poked it again.
“It’s probably a blister beetle. Don’t touch it.”
But it was too late. The beetle emitted a squirt of some kind of fluid from beneath its rear end, squirted it on Brennan’s finger. Instantly there was a sharp burning sensation, a quick sting.
“Ow …”
“Exactly. They have a defense mechanism that’s pretty effective. You’ll hurt there for a while and might get a blister, but you’ll be all right. Did you know that some beetles have a small turret gun down there and they can aim all around their body and hit with incredible accuracy?”
Brennan shook his hand. The spot on his finger hurt like a sting. “No. I didn’t.”
“Oh, yes, beetles are fascinating. A person could spend his whole life just studying them. Just beetles.” He sat up, looking straight into Brennan’s eyes, his face serious. “I can’t believe you don’t want to know things.”
“But … well, I do.”
“You don’t seem to want to know biology.”
“That’s different … I’m just not good at it.”
“Nonsense. You found the beetle, didn’t you?”
“But that’s not the same.…”
“But
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