The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (6 page)

Yet, Wolf liked and admired his big brother. Not just because he was family. That was important, true, but the man had sterling qualities to him. One was his single-minded devotion to his profession. Since Art had joined Eric, the company had expanded ten-fold in no time and gone on to become the top business house in the world. More important, though, was Art’s commitment to the family. Although he himself didn’t dabble directly in social causes, he never shirked from contributing financially to any cause the family might choose to patronize, and there were many.

If there was one thing Wolf felt really bad about was that Art would never be a father. Wolf knew how badly his brother had wanted children. They had tried for many years, then finally sought medical assistance. And the cause had been quickly established—it was Rochelle.
How shattering it must have been for him
, Wolf thought. And yet, Art never forsook his stoic patience, never showed his disappointment, never blamed his wife for it, not by the slightest word, deed or indication.
If only I had some of the man’s poise and grace.
What truly sealed Art’s fate on this front was that he would never divorce his wife no matter what. For, Art was a staunch Catholic and he would rather die than go against the most fundamental principles of his faith. Rochelle would be his first and final life-partner.

Wolf felt equally bad for Art’s wife. Here was the sweetest woman one could come across, of middle-class upbringing, who Art had met at a play. She had been essaying the lead part and Art had been instantly smitten by the large soulful hazel eyes, the lush brown waist-length hair and the high cheek bones. Rochelle was a simple woman, who nonetheless had seamlessly integrated into the ways of the affluent. Even if no one remotely talked about it, Wolf knew this fine woman would forever cart the stigma of being
the barren one.
He could tell from her eyes every time he looked at her—there was a vague sadness in them, the subtlest hints of it, which nevertheless his actor’s sensibilities clearly snatched. He doubted though that Art could see.

Wolf now looked away from Art and into the crowd once more. Their eyes were still on him—searching, probing, trying to get into his very essence. He breathed deeply and endeavored to be brave.

He avoided the adults in the gathering and instead let his gaze roam among the children, feeling safer with them. All of them were either orphaned or abandoned, he knew, without any true family to speak of. And watching them, Wolf realized how freaking lucky he had been all his life. And he realized more—that despite being unwanted, there was something to these children. It was reflected in the sparkle in their eyes. Despite a crippled childhood, there was trust in those eyes—a hope of a better future, and Wolf was suddenly ashamed of himself. He was so caught-up in his own grief, as if his grief was the only grief that mattered in the world, as if he was the only one afflicted on the planet.
How full of yourself can you be, you spoilt brat!

And how long am I going to burden this amazing man beside me with the weight of my troubles? Look at him...
Grant had in effect lost his son, a boy so close to his heart, a boy he had leaned on so heavily in his public and personal life. He had been devastated too. But he had recovered, triggered by his responsibilities and the added burden that he, Wolf, had placed on him over these past several months. It was time to get responsible.

And yet, quite frankly, he didn’t know how to do it. For, Wolf also realized that he’d had such a privileged life, he hadn’t really learnt how to cope with the genuine difficulties that life bestowed on the less fortunate. He realized how hopelessly impotent he was when confronted with real life in the real world. That was his tragedy.
Me and my incredible success and great fame...some good it has done me.

How long he had been watching her, he didn’t know, but it was only now that it registered. One girl in the whole bunch of kids that caught his attention, so much so he bolted upright in his seat.

Sweat shit!
Wolf gasped.
I don’t freaking believe this!

It was his daughter, Philippa...there, right there before him in the middle of the front row! A Philippa who had grown older by a couple of years. A seven or eight year old Philippa.

Wolf found his flesh begin to crawl.

This can’t be!

He rubbed his eyes as if to wipe the illusion away. But the girl remained, as real and alive as Dad beside him.
Philippa! My little Butterfly!
But how was that freaking possible!
Tricks of the mind,
he told himself.
Now you’ve even begun to hallucinate!
With a great effort, he turned his eyes away, and then kept them away, for a couple of minutes, although those two minutes felt like several ages. Finally, he turned back to her.

She had gone nowhere. Except now she was staring at him too. Their eyes met and there must have been something strange in his gaze, for a curious look came into the little girl’s eyes, as if to say,
why are you looking at me like that?

Wolf’s heart was really thumping now.
I must sound Dad!
He was now sure he wasn’t having delusions. Yet, rationality hollered it just couldn’t be. His eyes darted around in panic...then he froze. He noticed Art watching him slyly, yet very closely, almost with a deep interest. For a moment, Wolf stared back stupidly at his brother, but then recovered and flushing with embarrassment, he hastily looked away, even as Art himself hurriedly averted his gaze.
Sweet shit! Am I so freaking transparent?
At that time, and in that situation, he didn’t realize that Art had been gazing at him not just with deep interest but that there had been a light of triumph in his brother’s eyes.

Wolf turned back to the girl who had caused so much alarm in him. And finally he understood that this was
not
Philippa, it was someone incredibly like her. The similarities were mind-boggling: the swimming blue eyes, the expressions in them—of innocence blended with intrinsic intelligence; the thin straight nose that curved up cutely at the tip; the wideish forehead; the full cheeks that glinted in the light; the thin red lips... A freaking photocopy.
Sweet shit!

Wolf bit his tongue hard.
Oh, god, why are you doing this to me now?! Please...I’m in no condition to endure it!
But then, despite, and amidst the million goose-bumps all over his body and his pummeling heart, he felt something ignite in his soul, a rekindling spark. For the first time since the family tragedy, he felt enlivened, his green eyes alight with new life. In that instant, he knew he had to have this girl—if he was to breathe again, if he was to start living again. He clenched his fists tightly as he felt himself shudder with the thrill of fresh hope.

Then his gaze fell on something else on the girl’s person, that wasn’t remotely like Philippa. He looked closely, not believing he was seeing what he was. His heart gave a sharp pang of agony. The girl had only one arm. A beautiful little girl who was dreadfully disfigured. And Wolf Butcher felt an uprising of emotion, which rose from his belly and choked his throat.
No! Oh, Jesus, NO!

Sunday, March 9, 2008...

SAVANNAH
Burns felt herself shiver with anticipation and thrill. She knew this was going to be the defining moment of her life, a woman’s instinct, and a weird nervousness she had not known before took hold of her. She leaned forward in her chair and stared intently at the laptop screen, barely breathing. Then the words began flashing before her.

Lu says: i think

Then abrupt silence.

Savannah bit her lower lip.
Oh, come on now!

But the screen remained paralyzed. She tugged in a sharp breath, then began pounding down on the keyboard.

Sav says: u think what lu?

Lu says: uh?

Sav says: u said ‘i think’. what do u think?

Lu says: i dont know.

Sav says: oh cum now! If u begin a thot u must complete it.

Lu says: cant.

Sav says: why?????

Lu says: dont know. 2 nervous i guess.

Sav says: nervous of what?????

Lu says: nothin. LOL.

Sav says: stop
LOL
in stupid! now spit!

Lu says: ok. but promise me 1st that if what i m about 2 say embarrasses u or offends u or whatever, ull forgive me. i mean...u know...

Sav says: dont worry about it. nothin u say can embarrass/offend me. not 1 bit. i know u 2 vel by now, boy.

Lu says: right. let me take a deep breath 1st.

Sav says: k

Lu says: here goes.

And then it happened. The laptop’s battery drained out and Savannah cursed aloud.
Mary, just when we reach the moment of truth!
She glared murder at the suddenly-black screen and cussed herself this time.
Why the hell can’t you keep the battery charged...why do you always wait for it to drain out completely before plugging in, you retard!
To compound matters, there had been a severe power outage on and off throughout the week, as was the case now. She hurriedly plugged in the power cable, then grabbed the sides of the laptop and began rocking to and fro in her seat.

“Come back...come back now! Pleaseee!” she beckoned the power line.

But it didn’t happen. Not over the next hour. And by the time the power was back on and she had logged on to the Net again, he was gone.

Nonetheless, she kept waiting. Awaited the return of Lucio Edilson. She would know instantly, for, like her, he was signed onto ‘Fly Messenger’, where they chatted these days.

They had met on the ‘dateonline.net’ chat-room some three months ago. And they had taken to each other almost right away.
Instant Compatibility
, as he liked to put it. And that was so true. The weirdest thing was they barely knew what the other looked like. They had exchanged half a dozen pictures each and that was all. She had suggested they web-chat, but not pressed when he hadn’t shown any enthusiasm for it. She had given him her telephone numbers—both fixed-line and cell—and again not pressed when he hadn’t given his, nor called. He lived in Los Angeles and was a “small-time sound engineer working in Hollywood.” And yet, he had been on the Net constantly the last three months. “Just taking a sabbatical, Miss. Badly need it,” he had said, then added, “I’ll be coming to New Halcyon very soon.”

From the ‘dateonline.net’ chat-room to the exclusivity of the ‘Fly Messenger’ had been a quick transition and they would talk over it for ages. Once they had chatted twenty-eight hours straight, sustained on quick sandwiches and rivers of coffee.

Now, as she awaited Lu Edilson’s return, she casually logged onto ‘dateonline.net’, and just for something to do, she checked out her profile again.

Hi! I’m Butterfly.

I’m a 29 year old Caucasian female from beautiful New Halcyon, a Pacific paradise, looking for whatever works with men.

About me...

I have long brown hair, blue eyes and a pretty face (so they say and I agree wholeheartedly...LOL). I am 5 feet 4 tall and weigh 109 lbs. I am an American from Florida, but now am a naturalized citizen of New Halcyon, that most wonderful city-state, an exquisite island nation in the Pacific ocean, west of Los Angeles. I am single, have no relations, and am self-employed. My chief loves are music and movies (I love to splurge on DVDs—my only vice). I neither drink nor smoke and definitely no drugs for me. I am pretty contended with myself. However, now I yearn for some substance in my life. I want the regular things every woman wants: a man I can call my own, a family with children (a dozen at least. LOL), a warm buzzing home. Many would dismiss this as “the mundane things of life”. I would call it “the simple pursuit of happiness”.

Anyway, one day I want to go back to school and be a graduate...something I didn’t get an opportunity before. Right now, I am taking a sabbatical while I figure out what I REALLY want to do professionally. Life has been a struggle of sorts, but I have always been a survivor and I have survived and prospered in my own little way. So really, no complaints, despite everything (only weak people whine). Somehow I feel this is just a beginning for me and I am full of hope and energy for the future.