The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (79 page)

Then slowly the breathing stilled and Wolf knew Art had slipped into a snooze.

He’s going to nap for a couple of hours at least, Wolf thought. He watched his brother for a while more—a helpless, pitiful figure.
The world’s richest man, now a disabled pauper.

Wolf sighed and quietly ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He needed twenty minutes to himself—twenty critical minutes of complete privacy.

He went to his room and turned the laptop on. He opened a fresh Word page, chose ‘Arial 11’ and began typing. Seventeen minutes later, he was done. Then he opened another page and typed some more. He logged onto the Net and posted the letters he had just written, sending copies to relevant people, making additions as required. When he turned the laptop off and got to his feet, his eyes were moist. He hastily wiped them on his shirt sleeve and went back to Art.

.

A
rt Butcher wasn’t the most powerful man in the nation without reason. The steal in his core reasserted itself and a half hour after the incident he was back on his feet.

The first thing he realized was the wet patch on his pants. His eyes darted to Wolf, a shamed look jumping to his face. But Wolf pretended not to have noticed and Art rushed to the washroom.

When he came out ten minutes on, he was more or less composed. His face was like marble and he sat on the edge of the bed and was silent for a while. Finally, he looked up.

“You want to call the police for me?” he said calmly.

Wolf was startled. “What?”

Art shook his head. “I don’t recognize this man anymore. He says he’s my father, and so the records claim, but I have serious doubts now,” he said, his voice low. “You’ll call the police?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Wolf mumbled.

Surprise came to Art’s face. “You don’t think a homicidal person should be put away?” he inquired. “This man is not safe to be free, Wolf. That he is the President is a tragedy for the nation. We must correct the situation.”

“I…I think we should wait. I mean…after all…think about the stink all this will cause. It will be such a dishonor for the family. It’s the last thing we need now.”

“I don’t think so. Sometimes one has to rise above family. There are social obligations that are far more important.”

Wolf gaped at his brother. “But still, he is our father, Art, I…”

“Do you want to call the police or do I?”

Wolf went over and took Art’s hand. “Please listen to me,” he said. “I understand how you feel, but…”

“It is nothing personal. It’s not about me. It’s about the world we live in. If there is a dangerous person around, who shamelessly flouts all rules of decent society, we owe it to the law to take him out.”

“Give him one more chance,” Wolf appealed. “I assure you it’ll never happen again.”

“Look at the facts, Wolf. This man is the President. What sort of an example is he setting?”

“Fine, I’ll get him to put in his papers for good first thing tomorrow morning. As it is, he’s already half out.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“What more do you want?”

Art didn’t say anything.

“Fine, I’ll also get him to leave this house. And anything else you desire.”

“I can’t believe you are defending him. Didn’t you see what he was about to do? He would’ve killed me hadn’t it been for you. He…”

“Then for
my
sake, forgive him. We really can do without the stench. Please, Art, I don’t want our Butcher name to be tarnished anymore.” He squeezed Art’s hand. “Just for my sake, brother.”

Art’s eyes narrowed. “You still have feelings for him, don’t you? I thought you had seen the light.”

“I have, oh I have! But getting him incarcerated won’t help us. What we badly need is some peace and quiet. And then Robin’s arriving in a short while. We don’t want her homecoming to be like this, do we? After all, you’ve always insisted that Robin is the most important person in all of this…that she needs our full consideration.”

Art was thoughtful for a moment. “Alright. Because you insist so much…and because we have to think about Robin too. But I want that man to leave this nation. For good.” He put his hand up. “And don’t worry. Whatever finances he needs, I shall provide. All said and done I cannot forget he gifted half of this house to me. So, I shall set him up for life in any other part of the world he chooses. But thereafter, I don’t want to see his face ever again.”

Wolf nodded earnestly. “I’ll see to that.”

“Good.”

“What about Mom?”

“I wish she would stay here with me. She’s a good person. But if she wants to go with him
,
she is free to do so.” Suddenly he turned on Wolf. He took both his arms in a solid hold. “Thank you. You saved my life. Hadn’t it been for you…”

Wolf smiled. “What are brothers for? I love you more than anything, Art, and you know that by now.”

Art bit his lip. He held his brother’s face between both his hands and gazed at him fondly.

“Indeed, I do. And I love you too. I’m glad we discovered each other at last,” he said.

Wolf was startled to see a hint of moisture in Art’s eyes for the first time ever.
Wow, this man is human, after all!
“Let’s go out,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“This whole business has been very traumatic. Let’s go for a long drive, just you and me. We can snag some fresh air and have dinner at the airport. It’ll make us feel good.”

“But Robin is coming home.”

“She’ll wait. An hour or two won’t make any difference.”

“I don’t know,” Art said uncertainly.

“Oh, come on, brother. We both need it. We need to…”

Art abruptly straightened. “Let’s do it then. And let’s go in the open jeep. I want to feel the wind on me.”

Perfect!
Wolf thought.

They clasped hands and hugged.

“I’m honestly glad I have you for a brother,” Art said. “I hope we can work together. We would make an unbeatable team. I do need someone by my side, someone from my family, someone I can trust entirely. So far it has been a lonely road…far too lonely.”

*

Now…

“What’s wrong with grandpa?” Robin asked her mother in a whisper.

Savannah looked at Grant again. He looked so bushed, so unhappy…so beaten. And so old. She felt a pang in her chest. Rochelle glanced at Savannah and at Savannah’s questioning look, she came over. She took Savannah’s elbow and led her out of the room.

“Mary, what happened?!” Savannah exclaimed out in the lobby.

Rochelle glanced at Robin.

“Why don’t you go out and play with Bruno.” Savannah said to her daughter, running her hand over her head.

Robin didn’t want to leave, but Savannah gave her a look and Robin turned around.

Then Rochelle told Savannah.

“Oh, Mary!” she said when Rochelle had finished. “Where are they?”

“They went out for a while,” she said. “Wolf said they would be back in a couple of hours.”

The two women went back into the bedroom.

Grant was sitting up now. A deep sadness came to his eyes when he saw Savannah, but he tried to smile. The expression on his face said:
I failed you, woman…I am deeply sorry.

“There you are,” he said bravely, his voice frail.

Savannah went over and gave him a tight hug, then she sat beside him on the bed. She took his hand. She badly wanted to say something, but what could she say?

“Where is Robin?” he asked.

“Out in the garden.”

He nodded. Savannah squeezed his hand. He tried to smile again.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

She nodded. “And you?” she asked, immediately realizing what a bovine inquiry that was.

He threw up his other hand. “Life goes on,” he said.

After a while, he slid down the bed and shut his eyes once more, and Savannah felt a fresh pang in her bosom. She had seen a father in this man from the time they had first met. Then things had turned sour—at least that is how it had appeared for a period. Then he had come back in open support of her just when the whole world had turned against her, and once again she had begun to see in him a father that she’d never had and so desperately yearned for. To see him like this now broke her heart.

As Grant began snoring lightly, she began absently looking around the bedroom. It was a sparse room, the only real opulence being the five large portraits of the departed family members adorning the walls. Savannah had of course seen the pictures before and now carelessly gazed at them for something to do. Grant was hanging on to her hand in sleep and she didn’t want to snatch it away from him. Somehow he seemed comforted holding onto her, even if unconsciously.

They were such beautiful people,
Savannah thought as she kept looking at the portraits. To die in their prime…oh, how cruel was that? But then life itself was so pitiless for the most part. And despite all the advancements of science, no one knew the answers to the most basic of questions. Why were we born at all…what was the purpose of our existence? Why were some born so vulgarly privileged and others so tragically disadvantaged? Religions professed to have the answers, but a person with even the most rudimentary intelligence could see through their lies, fabrications and perfidy. It was all one big swindle, one huge con-job, just another money-and-power racket. It had nothing to do with the truth.

She suddenly realized that she had been staring fixedly at one particular portrait on the wall. As she became conscious of the fact, she tensed. She looked at the face very closely…and slowly a weird sensation began forming in her belly.

“What’s it?” someone said.

But Savannah continued peering at the picture, feeling her heart begin to flap.

And then it hit, like a sledgehammer blow to the brain, and she gasped raucously.

She pointed frantically at the picture, her lips trembling.

“Savannah, are you okay?”

Her flesh was crawling as if a billion worms were moving all over her.

“Savannah! What’s wrong?”

“Him…” she stuttered.

“What about him? … What…!”

Savannah’s mind was spinning wildly now. She dimly felt hands grabbing her, voices all around her. “Himmmmm…!” she screamed, pointing. “HIMMMMM … HIMMMMM…!”

WOLF
looked around his room for the final time this Tuesday evening of July 29.

At the cheerful red and orange walls. At the beautiful butterfly behind the bed. At all the other things, the smallest of things. He went to the washroom and looked around similarly. The water tub, the shower, the wall units, the washbasin… No longer would the warm water wash over his flesh and gladden him…no longer would it take away his weariness. He came into the bedroom again. He threw open the French windows and gazed out. The waters of the swimming pool to his left rippled in silent anticipation—as if waiting for him to come and have a dip, as he had done so often in the past. Before him, the water sloped down the rocks rhythmically into the pond—the sound so mellow and steady. He watched quietly, a little pang in his chest.

When he turned away, he stood by his bed and stared down. Then he knelt before her. He ran his hands over the quilt, stroking the velvet one last time. No more her soothing feel ever again. He reached over and pulled his pillow to him. He hugged the softness to his chest, then hugged her tighter still, clasping her with both arms, as he would’ve done to a woman one day. He lowered his face to the bed and rested his cheek on the tender mattress. No more her reassuring touch. He remained that way for a long time, very still, soaking up her feel one final time.

When at last he raised his head, he was immediately overcome. He bent forward again and kissed his bed…over and over. And she hugged him…and he hugged her back.

Somehow he straightened to his feet, and felt his bed give a little sob. She didn’t want him to go. He bit his lip. She was crying out to him:
do not go, please do not leave me. I cannot live without you. Come back, my love… Make love to me like you do each night. Hold me in your arms, let your fine legs roll over me, let me feel your chest on me, let your belly press down on me. Without you I shall be lost…without you I shall simply die. I’ve been your faithful companion for ever so long. I’ve tended to your every need. You’ve slept on me every night, you’ve sat on me for hours, you’ve played with your daughter atop me, you’ve eaten food on me…never once have I protested. So why are you forsaking me now? If I’ve done some wrong, please tell me. I beg your forgiveness—it shall never happen again. All I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy, the happiest man in this world. Give me one more chance…just one. But do not desert me like this; do not be so heartless, Wolf. Look at me, I cannot even breathe…

Wolf could take it no more. His chest was choked. He spun around and dashed out of the room, banging the door shut behind him.

Out in the passageway, he leaned against the wall and tried to compose himself. Then with labored steps he began walking again.