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probably end up paying me just to let you continue. What say you follow me home now and I’ll show you my setup?”
    I began to traipse after him, when Aikens turned and tried to thrust the shovel into my hand.
    “Here, carry this for me.”
    “Why? Am I being paid yet?” I retorted.
    He stared at me and then broke into a chuckle. “I gotta tell ya, you got moxy, babe. I think we’re gonna get along just fine together.”
    We headed back to the parking lot where Aikens homed in on a mini-Cooper as red as his hair. It would have been easy enough to guess which was his vehicle. The license plate bore the logo RED ELF , while a bumper sticker slapped on the rear fender bemoaned, WHY MUST I BE SURROUNDED BY FRICKIN ’ IDIOTS ? Best of all was the I’m-having-a-bad-hair-day troll doll skewered on its antenna.
    Aikens threw his shovel and backpack into the car, after which he pulled out an ice chest and showed me its contents. There were no sandwiches and sodas inside, but rather an array of butterflies, each shrouded in its own glassine envelope. They lay perfectly still, looking like colorful little corpses.
    “Are they dead?” I asked, captivated by the rainbow assortment.
    “Nah. I just gave them a tiny pinch on the thorax to stun them for now. That way they won’t squirm around and damage their wings. I’ll throw them in the fridge, and then the freezer, once I get home, to finish them off. Here’s another tip for you. That’s the best way to get perfect specimens.”
    I gazed at the lineup. Some butterflies were reddish orange, while others appeared copper brown with a purple sheen. Then there were those that had diagonal bands of yellow and black on their wings. Only one small butterfly was iridescent blue and lavender in color. There was something mesmerizing about the bug, even though its wingspan was only about an inch. I wondered if this was possibly the Mission blue butterfly that Mark Davis had told me about. Then I realized what I found to be so bewitching.
    The world was now at a crossroads where even a tiny winged creature such as this tottered on the brink of extinction. I’d heard of butterflies referred to as barometers for the health of the planet. If so, what did the future hold for us as human beings? That thought remained with me as Aikens closed the lid.

Three
    I followed the Red Elf toward Daly City. Its dense cluster of houses tumbled down the hillsides as if floating on a river of lava. Aikens parked in the driveway of a ticky-tacky dwelling with pink plastic flamingos and a black jockey holding a lantern on its front lawn. I got out of my Explorer and brought up the rear, strolling along a gnome-lined walkway to the entrance.
    Talk about your eclectic mix. A suit of armor stood in the hallway guarding an array of Danish, Gothic, and Spanish this-looks-like-it’s-been-through-a-bullfight furniture.
    “Pretty cool, huh?” Aikens said, proudly showing it off. “Everything comes from storage units. I always keep the choice stuff for myself.”
    His sense of design was certainly unique. I promptly named it “eau de mishmash.” The place definitely made me feel better about my own thrown-together digs.
    It was then I caught sight of something moving toward us from out of the corner of my eye. Half tumbleweed/half sootball, the mobile mass of unkempt knots and fur never veered from its course. I’d have guessed it was Cousin It from The Addams Family , but for the fact that rather than two legs it had four.
    Whatever it was sashayed up and rubbed against me. How could a Brillo pad possibly move? I wondered. Then the critter raised its head and purred. Whadda ya know? It was a walking, talking hairball. I bent down to pet the cat and my fingers got stuck in its fur.
    “Hey, Ma! I’m home! We’ve got company, so make sure you’re decent.”
    Ma? Aikens had to be joking. The man was far too old to be living with his mother. Besides, what sort of woman would put up with this mess?
    I