The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (32 page)

“I’ll eat only if you eat with me,” he said.

“Done,” she answered without hesitation.

As they ate, Wolf found his temper lighten up considerably. Between mouthfuls, she was chattering and joking and shortly Wolf found himself joining in. Soon, they were two cheerful juveniles with no table manners. Wolf marveled how soothing Rochelle was on his soul.
If only…
He quickly dismissed the thought as profane.

Once, he almost asked her what the matter was with her these days. Her mood swings were so uncharacteristic. But finally, he kept his counsel. She would tell him if she wanted to. He only wished it would pass and she would be back to her usual ever-happy self.

.

O
livia and family left for home the next day. Olivia and Wolf embraced but it was a forced farewell and Olivia didn’t smile at all. Wolf could see she was stiff with him. Things had changed radically over the last couple of days.

.

O
ver the next days, Wolf found that leave Rochelle, no one was really speaking to him. It wasn’t at all overt, but somehow they managed to miss him. The once warm house had virtually turned into a cemetery. The atmosphere was asphyxiating and were it not for Art’s wife, he would have fled. As it was, he hardly remained home. He woke up late, then after his chores, he left the house. Thankfully, the media had lost all interest in him once the wedding had been called off and that was such a relief. No one skulked around the main gate and no one tailed him now. They had inflicted the mortal wound and were satiated for the moment.

He spent the rest of the day with Savannah.

But here too things were getting progressively bad. Savannah seemed to be fading—as if she was losing her zest for life. She was becoming increasingly remote and where once she never slept in the afternoon, she now dozed up to three hours, right after lunch, unmindful that Wolf was still with her. She hardly ate and her eyes had dulled, like those of an addict’s. Her face was perennially tired and her posture slumped. Wolf felt he was fast losing her and the thought scared him to death.

Finally, one day, Thursday, she came out with it. It was just after lunch and they were in her bedroom.

“I think, Wolf, we should go our separate ways,” she said, her voice cold and detached.

He was stunned. “What’re you saying?”

“This is not going to work out. The choice is clear—Robin or me. And this time around the option is completely out of our hands.”

“Don’t be silly! We’ve not come all this way just to give up.”

“What way out is there? Are you prepared to dump Robin?” She searched his face. “No, of course not. So then what alternative do we have?”

“I’m sure they’ll come around sooner or later. It’s not been even a week yet. Their shock will fade given a little more time and they’ll finally reconcile to it. Once they realize how determined I am about marrying you, they’ll accept it. We must have some patience. I know Dad all too well—you won’t find a man with a more tender heart.”

“What about Mr. Cass? He’s the chief judge, the man with the real power to decide Robin’s fate.”

“Oh, he’ll do as Dad says. They are two great friends, as close as friends can be, and Ian will do him any favor.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why are you being so negative?”

“Because I know for sure President Butcher won’t change his mind on this. For these type of people a thing like…what I used to be…is the ultimate sin.”

“Give it time.”

She shrugged. “But I know, like I know of my own existence, that nothing’s going to come out of this in the end. We’re simply wasting time.”

His eyes narrowed. “Does that mean you’re no longer keen on us?”

Again she shrugged…like she could care less. “I’m merely being practical,” she said. There was a faraway look in her eyes and Wolf clicked his tongue in frustration. He felt he was losing his grasp over everything—
my whole fucking life!

In the evenings, around six, he would go to meet Robin.

And more lies.

“When is Momma coming home, Daddy? What’s taking her so long? Shouldn’t she be here by now? After all the funeral is long over.”

He would lie how Momma had to stay back and take care of her grandpa’s affairs as the old man had no one else to settle it after his death.

“These things take time, honey,” he’d say.

And despite her obvious disappointment, she would try to understand, and Wolf would marvel at the girl’s amazing fiber.
What a wonder she is, this girl of mine!
He knew he had let her down badly and he often felt like killing himself.

And yet there was, nonetheless, something that seemed amiss with Robin. As if something was bothering her. Biting her acutely. It showed in her eyes and Wolf knew it had nothing to do with her not being able to come home. Twice he had asked her and she had simply dismissed it, saying nothing.

But on that Thursday evening, she could hold back no more.

“Dad?”

“Yes, my love?”

A fresh wave of hesitation washed over her and she wouldn’t say any more.

“What’s it, Butterfly?” he prodded gently.

She shook her head.
No, no, nothing!

“You’re going to hide things from me now, are you? Now that’s not a very good girl.”

She remained staring at her feet and just when Wolf was about to prod her again, she blurted out, “What is a pros…titute?”

“What?”

“They say Momma is that…pros…titute.”

Wolf flushed furiously.

“Who the fuc…who said that?” he demanded.

He felt Robin cringe.

Cool down, you’re scaring her!

“They say it came in the papers.”

“Who they?”

“My friends.”

“Moon-Moon?”

Robin shook her head. “No, no, not Moon-Moon. But Angela and Joy and Kelly.”

“They are your friends?”

“They stay in my room.”

“But they aren’t your friends?”

“They are, but not like Moon-Moon.”

“If they were really your friends, they wouldn’t say something like that. It’s an evil thing to say.”

She looked at Wolf.

“Okay, a prostitute is a person who…who lends her body…for money,” Wolf said, pained, but knowing that Robin better hear it from him than others.

“That’s what they also said. It’s a very bad thing,” she said. “So why are they saying such bad things about Momma? They even showed me the newspaper.”

A prostitute is a million times better and more humane than most of us mainstream people
, Wolf thought.
But how do I explain that to her?
Instead, he said, “They’re all fuc…wrong. Your Mom is nothing like that. She’s a very good person.”

“So why do they say that then?” she persisted.

“Because they are all jealous. And the newspapers—they are just a bunch of liars who write filthy falsehoods to make money. The truth is that most newspaper journalists are also prostitutes…far worse than that, actually. They sell their morals and integrity to climb up in their jobs.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

She thought for a second. Then she looked back at him. “But why are they jealous?”

“Your friends?”

She nodded.

“Because you’ll be leaving them soon and going to a big house. Because soon you’ll be living with your dad and mom. Because they are not really your friends, for, true friends are never jealous. In fact, they are only happy if good things happen to their friends.”

She nodded again, more vigorously. “Yes, yes, Moon-Moon is not jealous of me. She is happy for me.”

“Exactly. She’s your real friend. For the rest, you should just ignore them.”

She relaxed now, a huge load lifted off her little soul.

.

O
n Saturday morning, ten o’clock, Wolf finally went to see Ian Cass at his residence.

Like Grant, he was warm and gentle and welcoming, as usual.

Cass lived alone in a three bedroom penthouse in Rocker Homes, five miles east of Salisbury Park. The only other regular of Cass’s apartment was a maid, a woman in her early fifties called Nina, who looked after the little man’s house, while he contributed his immense services to humanity. Wolf knew that Nina was an old faithful, who had been with the Cass family for the past twenty-nine years, well before Anita Cass (Ian’s wife) died, and after her death, Nina had played a significant role in helping Cass raise his three children. Cass looked upon Nina as his kid sister and so was most indulgent with her. Whatever she wanted—money, clothes, time-off, Cass never denied her. In turn, Nina was careful never to take unwarranted advantage of the small man’s big kindness.

“So what’ll you have, son?” Cass said after they were seated in the living room. “Nina?”

The woman who answered the call was at least a couple of inches taller than Wolf. Her waist couldn’t have been less than fifty inches and yet she hardly seemed large in the conventional sense, for there was no discernible fat on her frame that Wolf could see. Her skin was tight, her face glinted with good health and her gait was bouncy and spirited. She looked like a blown-up school girl in the white knee-length frock that she had on.

“Yes, Ian?” Nina said. “Hello, Wolf.”

“Wolf? What’ll you have, son?” Cass repeated.

Wolf blinked. “Ar…no…nothing, sir. I’ve just had my breakfast. Thank you all the same.”

“That ain’t do, you must have something. Two coffees, Nina.”

After Nina had gone, Cass turned back to Wolf. “So what can I do for you, son?”

Wolf fidgeted with his fingers.
How the hell should I begin?
He noticed Cass was eyeing him with his big eyes, the gaze so sharp that it would have made an eagle seem like a blind bird, and it made Wolf even more nervous.

“Perhaps I can guess,” Cass said helpfully. “It has to do with Robin?”

Wolf nodded.

“Anytime you are ready, she is yours, son. I can get her to you in a second. Like this.” He clubbed his right thigh with the side of his fist. “Though you ain’t married, I can have either Estelle or Rochelle play her foster mother until you get married. Once you get hitched you can legally adopt her. I recalled this possibility in the law last night. So now, I ain’t have to break any rules either.” He paused a second. “Today is Saturday, a holiday, but I’ll open the offices of the NAB and Robin could be with you in a matter of a couple of hours.”

Wolf inhaled deeply. Why was Cass playing this game?

“Is there a problem?” Cass was saying.

Wolf straightened his back. “Sir, you know exactly what I want,” he said, now looking pointedly at the other man.

Cass’s face turned sad. “Yes, son, I know what you want. But that simply ain’t doable.”

“Why?!” Wolf cried, in a sudden discharge of pent-up anguish.

“If I were to permit such a thing, I’d be going against every principle of decent society…every principle I’ve ever stood for.”

Wolf became animated now. He began rattling—reeling off all the arguments and logic he had repeatedly made to the members of his family.

“That was her past, sir. She is no longer involved in that. And how is a working woman, who has hurt no one, any worse than those who use their official positions to create wars and strife…” The whole scale of reasoning.

He spoke non-stop for almost half hour, the words gushing out of him like an unremitting torrent, pleading like he had never pleaded before anyone, pleading for his very existence, a desperate man trying to hang on. He was on the edge of his seat as he spoke, leaning toward Cass, who was uncharacteristically stoic. Cass listened considerately and for once his usually overworking limbs were statuesque with deep attention. In-between, Nina came and went and the two cups of coffee she had brought and carefully placed between the men went slowly cold, for it remained untouched, unnoticed.

At the end of it, Wolf went on his knees and joined his palms.

“Please, sir, I beg you. I need them both…for my survival. I vow to you Savannah will be the perfect mother to Robin and the little girl will have the very best life a child could ever have. She’ll want for nothing, sir. This is my solemn promise to you.” There was a wildness in Wolf’s eyes as he implored. “Please help me, sir.”

A long silence ensued. Judge Cass seemed dazzled. Wolf now sat back, exhausted.

The thick hush continued forever. Wolf found his head had begun to thump. He looked at Ian Cass. The little man was gazing at him steadily and there was gentle sorrow in those big eyes—the sadness of a moral man caught between the devil and the deep sea.

At last, Cass inhaled. “I understand your predicament, son. I’ll do one thing…I’ll take this under advisement. How about I let you know by evening. That okay?”

That was
not
okay…not at all! But did he have a choice?
Yes, I understand Mr. Cass’s dilemma too.