Garden of Envy

Barry sat on the warm patio and puzzled over the ups and downs of his life. Fired recently from the Glorious Cat Meat Canning Facility near Willow Street, he had plenty of time on his hands for pondering.

"Fired, Janet! Again, Janet! What's up with that? Why can't I hold onto a job? I'm reasonably able, passably good-looking and as competent as the next guy, so why does the axe keep falling on me?" He glanced sideways at her and then glared down at his hands as though they might be withholding information from him.

Janet sighed, swirled the ice in her glass, and watched the butterflies lazing in the sun while she searched for a suitable answer. She envied the butterflies, they never had to have difficult conversations; ones that started with: "Honey, we need to talk." Sure, she needed to be honest with Barry, but how honest? She had long suspected that
honesty was an over-rated quality but there seemed to be no other course in front of her.

"Honey, remember the other week when we talked about social skills?"
"Kissing up, you mean."
"Well, that's another name for it. There are some people in the world that need a lot of ego stroking and these people usually end up as bosses. No one knows why, it's one of life's little mysteries; a cruel mystery."

"Yeah, well, those people can…" Barry ducked his head suddenly as a large, dark beetle buzzed by closely, obviously hurrying off to some important task. Barry looked after the bug enviously.

"Look at him, Janet," Barry cried, pointing at the beetle's retreating form. "He doesn't have to beg anyone to hire him; he doesn't have a boss to please or co-workers to get along with. He's just doing his own thing, with places to go and people to meet. He's so… so….what's the word? So sufficient, self contained, self…self…self-employed. That's it! He's self-employed! If only I was self-employed," he sighed. So this was what his life had come down to he thought; he was envious of a beetle. Could his life get any lower than that? He shuddered and vowed not to ask that question out loud, best not to tempt the fates.

Janet took a deep breath and tried to look encouraging. "That's a new idea, Barry, what kind of work would you like to do?
"Well, let's see, there's extortion, car jacking, bank robbery…"
"Nothing legal?"
"Legal is boring and it doesn't pay well."
"How about writing?"
"That's an idea, ransom notes don't take long and they get a good return."

"I need something that will put me in charge of my life, you see, instead of being at the mercy of management. Management, Janet, is like a twister in a trailer park; you know some poor bastard's going to get it, you just don't know who it's going to be."

"I don't know, Barry, how about a nice, quiet job digging ditches? Or maybe spend the summer working on Lawyer Sterling's turnip farm? They say turnips are very soothing for raw nerves."
"I hear he's a crook."
"A retired crook, and a rich one, too."
"You should know you defended him."
"Yes, the legal profession's a dirty line of work. Sometimes I think I'd like to get into something cleaner, running a puppy mill, maybe."

"Here's an idea, how about a printing press in the basement? We could print our own money."
"We don't have a basement; and the government gets upset about that kind of stuff."
"There's always robbing liquor stores."
"What is it with you and the liquor store fantasy?"
Barry sighed and shook his head at her lack of understanding. "There's cash and alcohol in the same place, Janet. I really don't understand why I have to keep pointing that out to people. Plus, you make your own hours; and you don't have to wear a uniform, although the little black mask is traditional."

Janet shifted uneasily in her chair, "I think it's too risky, and I don't think you could get away with it."
"You better keep your day job," Barry crowed, "you don't have what it takes to make it as a criminal."

"I resent that," she huffed "I'm a lawyer, you know, I know all about crime. I could be as good a criminal as you!"
"Oh, yeah? Prove it! Rob the Corner Crate with me tonight." He leered at her and waggled his eyebrows. "You'd look hot in a black mask," he whispered huskily. Janet back-pedaled furiously, looking for a way to save face. "Well, well, I…I…have things to do, I can't just drop everything and run off and indulge in crime, you know.
I have a long list of things to do, I have to return those library books, and then wash and wax the driveway."

She looked around for a distraction and plucked up a paper from the table and waved it around. "How about this, honey? It's a seminar over in West Willow." She held out a glossy pamphlet showing a good-looking man with blindingly white teeth and an expensive suit. 'White collar crime for fun and profit', it blared, 'if I can do it, you can do it too.'
"Huh," Barry sniffed and dropped it with contempt. "White collar crime is for wusses. Where's the risk, the danger, the excitement? Besides, if you can advertise in the open like that it's practically legal."
"Is legal so bad?" pleaded Janet.
"Legal puts you at the mercy of other people, crime puts you in charge."
"Except for cops with guns and dogs who come looking for you," Janet pointed out.
"Pooh," said Barry, waving his hand and dismissing the long arm of the law. "They'd never catch me, I'm too smart." Barry paused here and asked plaintively, "Janet, why does the world always fail to recognize my genius?"

Janet rubbed the back of her neck where she could feel a migraine tunneling up from the depths and wondered about that nice boy in high school she used to date. "I wonder what ever happened to Jimbo," she mused aloud.

"What's that?" Barry said sharply.
"Nothing, dear," she soothed him. I wonder if he'll ever be able to keep a job, she worried. Maybe her cousin Eddy could use some help in his 'it fell off the back of a truck' business.

The dark beetle landed on a spicebush branch to catch her breath and groomed her antenna with careful attention. "Look at them," she cried to the butterfly. "Just sitting there in the sun, doing nothing. I wish I could do that. I laid three hundred eggs two weeks ago and they just hatched out. Do you have any idea how much work it takes to ride herd on three hundred young? It must be nice to be a human. I hear they send their young off to be raised by someone else; what a system."

"Look how large they are," the butterfly said wistfully. "If I was that big I'd never have to worry again about getting eaten. They can just sit out in the open like that and no predator will touch them; it must be nice." He slowly fanned his wings and sighed.

The man sighed, the woman sighed, the beetle sighed, the butterfly sighed and even the west wind gliding gently over the little garden in the woods sighed and no one was satisfied. Gardens are pretty but you have to bring your own happiness.