Bonair, The Dragonfly
A Story for Mischievous Children and Nymphs
(for A and J, 1997)
This is the story of a young dragonfly named Bonair who lived at a lily pond many years ago. She had more grace than other dragonflies at the pond, darting through the air effortlessly on translucent wings of purplish and bluish silk. The damselflies envied her good looks and the boy dragonflies just darted away bashfully. Bonair was also a mischievous dragonfly, often breaking the rules set by her queen. She lured and tricked other dragonflies and damselflies to do her chores so she could nap in her little cocoon on the longest branch of the tree that stretched over the lily pond they called home.
The lily pond was home to the toads, who lived a happy, simple life there. Peaceful, too, with few enemies. There was harmony between the toads and the dragonflies, a long-standing pact at the pond. Privately and behind their back, some toads said this custom was because dragonflies tasted so bad, but no one could recall the origins of the truce.
Mr. Gribbith was a wise old toad. He was one of a kind, partial to the dragonflies, protecting the young nymphs in times of danger. He liked them all, except one: Bonair. She tormented Mr. Gribbith while he sunned on his lily pad. She would land on him, her six legs waking him from his nap. She would spray water on Mr. Gribbith, flapping her wings over the surface of the pond. More than once, he grumbled to his wife, the spotty Mrs. Betty Gribbith, how much he wanted to snap his sticky tongue at Bonair, devouring her in one gulp, even if she gave him the worst indigestion of his life. But Mr. Gribbith was too nice. He endured Bonair’s foul deeds, even if they made him a grumpy toad.
One morning, Odonata, the queen, announced that an expedition was necessary. Food supplies were low and her eggs were about to hatch. She ordered all young and able dragonflies and damselflies to come along. As the dragonflies were leaving the pond, Sinclair, one of Bonair’s friends, noticed she wasn’t among them. Sinclair quickly flew over to the long branch to wake Bonair from her nap. Bonair got ready quickly, so as not to catch the ire of Odonata. She unruffled her wings and, with Sinclair, took after the pack.
The dragonfly swarm flew in formation away from the pond, soon reaching alien territory. They were hunting for insects and bees when Bonair spotted the most beautiful and colorful flower she had ever seen. Diving away from the swarm, she changed direction like only dragonflies can. Before any of the older and wiser dragonflies could warn her, she had landed on the flower offering delicious dewy drops of nectar. The warning from the others, shrieks beyond the range of human ears, reached Bonair at the same time the sticky petals snapped closed around her.
The swarm darted and hovered in a panic around the deadly flower. They could hear the frightened Bonair, now almost completely hidden within. With great haste, Queen Odonata ordered the swarm to return to the pond, leaving two damselflies and Sinclair behind to keep Bonair company. On the flight back, the dragonflies wondered what Odonata had in mind, but none dared to interrupt. She was busy planning a rescue.
When they reached the pond, Odonata dove straight toward Mr. Gribbith’s lily pad for a chat. Afterward, the scuttlebutt was that Odonata pled with Mr. Gribbith to help. At first, he was reluctant to stir into action to save the one dragonfly he detested. Eventually, he agreed to help the one who pestered him.
Odonata had a remarkable idea. She knew Mr. Gribbith would take too long to reach the deadly flower, so she had him jump on a loose lily pad. She organized the dragonflies to grab the leaf with their three legs on one side, fitting as many as possible around the edge of the leaf. She had them beat their wings against the air as hard as they could. The dragonflies generated a buzz a human could hear. Then there was a plop when the water suction released the leaf. It was a sight to see, a lily pad with a toad on top floating like a magic carpet. Odonata urged the group to pick up speed, rushing to save Bonair from a terrible fate.
When they arrived at the site, Sinclair reported she could hardly hear Bonair any more, her cries fainter and fainter. Mr. Gribbith stood aside while the larger dragonflies gnawed at the flower stalk with their strong mandibles until it toppled over. Once the big flower was on the ground, it was up to Mr. Gribbith. He aimed his hop just right, like he did when he moved from one lily pad to another, landing on the bottom side of the flower, avoiding Bonair inside. The force of his landing split open the petals. Once free of the tight grip, other dragonflies helped Bonair out. She was dazed, but happy to be alive. The crushing grip of the now dead, deadly flower had wrinkled her silken wings.
Bonair was not badly hurt. She even helped the other dragonflies transport Mr. Gribbith back to the pond. During the flight back, the other dragonflies were so excited to tell the story over and over, describing the remarkable plan that Odonata had devised.
When they dropped off Mr. Gribbith, who was happy to be back with the spotty Mrs. Betty Gribbith, Bonair thanked him again and again. She darted near his head, but not one of her six legs touched him.
Bonair changed her mischievous ways faster than the wrinkles on her wings straightened out. She was alert for orders from the wise queen, waking up every morning to hunt with the swarm. Sometimes she brings back a few flies for Mr. Gribbith, a treat he savors with his sticky tongue. He washes down the bugs with the amber tea he drinks in the afternoons with the spotty Mrs. Betty Gribbith while retelling — and embellishing — the story of his daring rescue to tadpoles by the hundreds who swim up to the edge of his lily pad to hear the legend of his dragonfly rescue.
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