In Search of Goliathus Hercules (21 page)

“Very well observed. You are correct,” said the man in the top hat as he scanned the audience. A number of people had their hands up, offering to volunteer. He selected a man in a bowler hat whom he addressed as Professor Chadbourne.

Professor Chadbourne rose to his feet.

Henri chose one of the large scarab beetles and clearly and audibly gave the instructions through a series of clicks and hums. He raised his hand, and the beetle took off, wildly flying off-kilter, up, down, and from side to side, before successfully landing on top of Professor Chadbourne’s bowler hat with a bit of a thud. The beetle took a quick break and then launched itself in the direction of Dr. Pratt’s hat in the same less-than-graceful style. He landed with a plop, and the audience clapped enthusiastically. Dr. Pratt walked up to the stage so Henri could remove the scarab, and they shook hands.

The chairman next selected a short, squat older gentleman who had not a hair left on his shiny head. “Please make your request, Mr. Heathrow.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Chairman. Well, as you can see, I am a little lacking on top.” He patted his bald head. “I wonder if you would be so kind as to provide me with a living wig of various insect species,” he said.

“Of course, sir,” said Henri. Together, he and Maestro Antonio selected a number of insects that, upon receiving their instructions, flew directly to the man’s head and landed nimbly. Eventually, they covered the top of his head, nicely giving him the most fantastic and elaborate hairdo. It was as if he had braids and a topknot! Maestro Antonio invited Mr. Heathrow to come to the stage and model his new hairstyle, which he did with an enormous grin on his face.

The chairman then selected a woman, a Mrs. Blackburn. From his vantage point, Henri could only see the top of a very elaborate hat adorned with bird feathers and even a stuffed wood pigeon. When she stood up, Henri saw that her face was obscured by a mourning veil. She was exceptionally tall and wore a stiff, black silk dress. His stomach turned.

“Please proceed, Mrs. Blackburn,” said the chairman.

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I do have one small request, but first if I may, I would like to make an observation. We have listened today to a very learned dissertation on insect communication, and I have no quibble with the facts stated. I do wish to note that the authors fully admit Mr. Bell actually hears the insects in full clarity. Am I the only one here who finds this odd? Such an ability suggests powers far beyond a mortal being!”

The audience looked absolutely shocked. What was Mrs. Blackburn suggesting?

“I have investigated Mr. Bell, and for the past two years he has traveled in a circus sideshow. During this time, he has gone through a remarkable transformation, or should I say,
metamorphosis
. He began as a normal-looking little boy, but I say—look at him now! Mr. Bell, I have one request: would you mind removing your hat?”

Maestro Antonio appeared tense. Professor Young seemed perplexed. Sitting in the front row, Henri’s mother, Robin, and Billy looked outraged. There was nothing Henri could do. He calmly removed his hat and put it on his lap. In the last three months, he had lost all his hair. His head was as shiny as Mr. Heathrow’s with one exception. On either side of it, he had two bumps, each the size of a quail egg.

“You see!” exclaimed Mrs. Blackburn. “He is a freak! A sideshow freak! This is not a boy! Perhaps he is a changeling! Look at his green pallor and his head. What is that forming on the sides? Horns? Perhaps we are sitting with the devil in our very midst! I, for one, shall not sit here listening to the enticements of evil!” With a dramatic turn and a swish of her skirts, she marched out of the lecture hall. There was a hush and then a murmuring.

The audience was shocked, although it was unclear whether they were surprised by Henri or by Mrs. Blackburn’s behavior. A dozen or so people stood up and exited the hall. Henri knew that suggesting someone was a changeling, the offspring of trolls, ogres, and other malevolent creatures, was a serious accusation, but surely none of these academics would believe Mrs. Blackburn, would they? Henri continued to sit, nervously turning his hat in his hands.

It seemed as if utter chaos was about to break out. It was Maestro Antonio who raised his hands to calm the crowd. His many years in the circus had taught him how to deal with unruly crowds.

“Ladies and gentleman, we have come today to hear of the latest breakthroughs in science. We are believers in facts, logic, and the scientific method. I fear to say that Mrs. Blackburn is surely no scientist, for she clings to old wives’ tales. Will we let superstition and prejudice guide us? Mr. Bell has the great misfortune to suffer from a grievous condition—alopecia—better known as hair loss. I see nothing sinister in this. It is our great hope that modern medicine will in the near future help him and that he will sport a healthy head of hair. In the meantime, he can wear a hat or, like Mr. Heathrow, enjoy a living wig, if he so chooses.”

There were some chuckles from the crowd.

“Please, Mr. Bell, I think none of us will object if you put on your hat.”

Henri did not hesitate.

“As to the unfortunate bumps on his head, it is true that he had hoped to hide them. They are the result of a particularly virulent reaction to chicken pox. Sadly a couple of his spots became infected, causing the skin to rise. He has the coincidental misfortune that they should appear symmetrically on either side of his head. While Mrs. Blackburn thought they were devil’s horns, I would not be surprised, at this meeting of entomologists, if you thought he was growing antennae!” Maestro Antonio gave a hearty laugh at his little joke, and most of the audience joined in with him. “Might it be possible to return to our demonstration, Mr. Chairman?” the maestro asked.

The chairman appeared a little unsure, but as he looked out into the audience, many raised their hands, hoping to be selected.

At the conclusion of the demonstration, there was resounding applause. The chairman took to the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, superstition and prejudice have no business in our learned halls. Tonight the British Entomological Society and the Geographic Society announce that we are endorsing and supporting Mr. Bell and company on their search for
Goliathus hercules
. We wish them Godspeed!”

Many in the audience stood up and cheered. Henri and Maestro Antonio waved to the audience as Professor Young uncharacteristically raised a celebratory fist. Finally, the validation they had sought was theirs.

Now that Henri’s changing form had been pointed out, Professor Young was concerned, although he also was professionally interested.

“It’s a first, Henri! Man transforms into insect! I understand that it is, um…a little disturbing—perhaps a tad inconvenient—but just think: perhaps you’ll be able to fly! Wouldn’t that be remarkable? We must record this metamorphosis for the scientific community.”

Henri allowed the professor to weigh him, measure his growing antennae, and question him on his health each day. The professor had pointed out that perhaps, if Henri were able to change from human to insect, it might be possible to reverse the process as well. Henri desperately wanted to believe that. While he liked insects very much, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be one.

Henri’s mother never spoke of his condition. She was her usual loving and attentive self. Henri once recalled that when he was very small, he had asked her whether she had wanted a girl or a boy while she was expecting him. She had responded that it made no difference. All she wanted was a happy, healthy baby. “What if I was a fox? Would you still love me?” She had laughed and said, “Of course I would love my baby fox.” However, a fox is cuddlier than an insect.

The day of the departure to Malaya drew ever closer. The party would say good-bye to Henri’s mother, the professor, and all the menagerie insects that would return with Professor Young to America. He promised to care for them, and their offspring could await Henri and the maestro’s return.

At last, everything was ready. Maestro Antonio and Henri had met with various members of the Entomological and Geographical Societies and had agreed to gather specimens of plant and insect life. Billy and Robin dealt with the practical matters such as gathering tents, camping equipment, rain gear, more maps, two cameras, and notebooks.

On a rainy evening in September, the expedition party gathered at Waterloo Station. From there, they would travel by train to the south coast, over the English Channel by ferry, and on to Paris by train again, where they would catch the Orient Express to Constantinople. It would be at least a four-month journey overland, along the old trade route known as the Silk Road, before they turned southward to British Malaya.

The train whistle blew to signal its impending departure. Henri moved to his mother. She hugged him close to her, but she did not cry. “Promise to write, dear.”

“Of course, I will. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t,” she said firmly. “Henri, I believe in you. I know you will be successful. I love you.”

“Thanks, I love you too.”

Henri turned to Professor Young. “Good-bye, professor. Don’t worry: Tony will keep up the measuring and recording.”

“Good grief, son! I’m not worried about that. Take care of yourself, Henri.” And for once, he dropped all formality and embraced Henri.

With that, the travelers boarded the train and entered their compartment. As the train pulled out from the station, Henri leaned out the window for one final good-bye. As he did so, he noticed someone else leaning out the window one carriage down—someone in a large black hat with feathers and a veil.

Henri drew back inside immediately and slammed the window shut.

“S
he’s the Woman of a Thousand Faces!” Billy joked when Henri told the group that Agatha Black—aka Madame Noir and Mrs. Blackburn—was aboard the train.

“Ha-ha,” replied Robin. “Does she think we’re little children who don’t know any better? Fooled by her every disguise?”

“No,” said Henri. “She’s trying to torment me. It’s a game to her, and she seems pretty confident. Why else would she continue to show up in these ridiculous costumes?”

“You’re right, Henri,” said Billy. “These are the actions of someone toying with their prey. Like a cat playing with a mouse.”

Mrs. Blackburn did not emerge from her compartment until they reached Constantinople. When she stepped off the train, she was enveloped in black from head to foot in a burka. Among the devout Muslims of the city, it would have been the perfect disguise, had Mrs. Blackburn not been so tall. Henri laughed mockingly when he saw her step down on the platform; however, Mrs. Blackburn turned out to have the last laugh, for they quickly lost sight of her in a sea of anonymous women concealed in black.

The expedition traveled through Arabia by camel. It was not until they reached the lands of the Silk Road trade route that Henri would sight his nemesis again. They had given up the camels and now traveled by donkey cart. This was necessary in order to transport their many trunks of equipment and supplies over rocky, treacherous terrain. The donkeys were slow, and one day, a palanquin—a chair carried on four poles—and its uniformed bearers caught up and passed them. For the next three days, over desolate, dry earth, the palanquin was always in sight. They speculated on who might be traveling inside.