The swindler is a sharp man in a sharp suit. He winks at the ladies, shakes hands with the pals. He cops a quick feel for a quick giggle, unbuttons for a blow job in a back room. The face he wears for the larger circle smiles beatifically. He punches walls, but only when it’s nuclear. In his mouth, crime is another country. A good man stands alone, redressing the score, evening the balance.
A butterfly net is the most efficient and humane way to catch a butterfly. Nets with a soft mesh are ideal to avoid harming the wings.
What does he do at the carnival, his pockets full of dollars, when his wife’s bottom is fondled by a man with a gun? Nothing. The swindler knows better. We should all know better than to fuck with narcos.
Aim for a swift and gentle sweep. Approach the butterfly slowly and make a quick, smooth movement with your net to capture it. Avoid squeezing or holding it tightly.
Resonating, the swindler is delighted by the shiny lottery ticket and the easy-come Craigslist find. Computers and phones with perfect facades fail to operate without their innards. The swindler will buy them again and again for the song that is sung. When he was a child he went to a carnival with nothing in his pockets and found a ten on the ground. His star is lucky. He tells you that he is the lucky one.
Transfer the butterfly carefully. Place a clear container over the net and gently coax the butterfly inside. Don't touch its wings directly.
How did he get inside this room, this room with no door? Don’t cry for me Argentina is bullshit. Eva Perón wanted them to weep, all of them, the whole country a thing he understands, despite his mind unwired. On the list of horrors, it’s easier to recall the ghost that followed him on his bicycle when he was 12, the ghost of a dead man, seen by the side of the road. When he became catatonic, they asked a woman to come, paid her to loosen the grip round his heart with herbs and with prayers, until he woke up.
If you plan to pin the butterfly, it needs to be relaxed first. Place it in a container with a paper towel soaked in a relaxing solution, like ethyl acetate.
Locked in this room with no walls, it’s hard to tell what he knows about himself. The good liar, the true believer. He tells you that women only want him for his money, the money he throws at them. How else will he catch them?
Insert an insect pin through the middle of the thorax. Position the pin slightly forward, at an angle. Carefully spread the wings to their natural position using wax paper strips and pinning them down to the spreading board.
He can’t resist large displays. In a poor place, the wise put up a cardboard front, unfolding their largess behind shuttered windows. Not the swindler. He builds it up to the sky. Grandiosity draws predators. Large empty rooms echo the wife, the children, gone and grown. He kicks himself, too late.
Allow the butterfly to dry for several days, undisturbed, in a cool, dry place. Once dry, carefully remove the pins and wax paper strips.
His jealousies are catastrophic. No sooner does he think of doing a thing, but he wonders if this thing is being done to him, right now, even as he breathes, here in this house beside the honking street, pinned against the hot dry wall.
Mount the butterfly on a display board using insect pins and arrange it aesthetically. For a more permanent and protected display, you can encase the butterfly in clear epoxy resin. If you have feelings about the butterfly, remember to believe in reincarnation. If this is too much of a stretch, you can tell yourself the butterfly is really an animatronic. If guilt wells up at this obfuscation, change tac and ask yourself are you the hand? Or perhaps the butterfly?
Mounting the swindler using insect pins unfortunately may not be arranged aesthetically.
That turning toward at the end was so uncomfortable. Effective.