The Butcher and the Butterfly (28 page)

Ted was another
stupid one. Maybe not like all the others as he was more unlucky
and foolish than plain old stupid but it all came to the same thing
in the end. You make your own luck in this world. Ted was right
about the money. It was worth one hundred and fifty thousand. As a
matter of fact, looking at the price of land, and of cattle and of
machinery it was worth a whole lot more. A lot more like about
another one hundred thousand more. Probably even more with the
discovery.

Mike laughed as he
reached down and unrolled the map he had been looking over before
Ted’s arrival. On it he had marked the farm, plus (unseen by Ted’s
eyes) new roads that would be laid, new buildings that would be
built and new factories that would churn out wares to sell to all
the major towns and cities from here to the furthest reaches. Mike
would be richer than he had ever dreamed of once this farm was
bought and the land that it was on was used correctly.

Doyle Cartwright
had shown him the sample from the dig he had done on Teds land and
that sample was sat on a shelf behind Mike; its black gloopy mess
screwed up tightly in a glass jar.

Mike reached up
and took hold of the glass jar. ‘Two days to think about it,
Ha!’

He looked into the
black mess and swirled it around.

‘Black gold.’ Mike
whispered.

10

That night Mike,
Daisy and Doyle lay in their separate beds dreaming. Varula had
sniffed an opportunity and she was slowing taking advantage of it.
All three dreamed of the Orb. They would not remember the dream for
it is locked away at the back of the mind where tricks are played
and memories robbed. The dreams are dark; filled with chaos and
torment. None of them know what Varula is doing; none of them know
that she can see all that they know and all that they want. She is
conniving in her work and the three helpless souls toss and turn in
the night trying in vain to stop the rot.

Dotty also dreams
of the Orb but her dream is filled with lush forest and deep blue
streams. She is happy with the friend she makes in the forest;
happy to play with her and to swim naked with her. Her new friend
has no name but this doesn’t matter to Dotty who is rubbish with
names anyway. When she runs it feels as though the two of them
could fly, when they swim they feel like the fish that they chase.
It is a happy dream, a good dream and when Dotty’ mother appears
and flies above them like a beautiful butterfly Dotty reaches up to
touch the sky and feels the warmth on her hands and the flutter of
tiny wings upon her fingers.

Back in the home
of Thatcham, locked away in the drawer in his study, Varula pulses
deeply in her wooden box.

11

The next day was
hot and sunny. Spring, summer and autumn now rolled into one
haphazard season with only winter bringing any real change to the
climate. Sat on the porch seat smoking a cigarette basking in the
morning heat Simon, son of Mike Thatcham, contemplated the days
Tommy foolery he would be having.

He was given the
day off work today to watch the simple girl Dotty paint the picket
fence and make sure she did it a) correctly and b) without making a
scene. ‘Making a scene’ his father had said with eyes that
glistened in the sunlight and told the young man that if she were
to fuck up then it was his problem and young Simon would be dealt
with accordingly.

It was nearing
eight o’clock and Dippy Dotty would be here soon. He would taunt
that stupid cow something rotten today; maybe even getting her to
take her top off or flash him her lady bits.

Dotty was thick as
pig crap and like his dad, Simon hated the retarded. He was clever,
‘street smart’ as his father says. Able to judge a situation and
deal with it before it gets out of hand. Take the death of his
mother for instance; Simon knew it wasn’t a suicide but rather than
go to the local authorities and raise a concern he could see that
she was nothing but a nuisance to this family. Best for her to go
that way than for the family to be left with nothing but an empty
bank account and debt. This family was important to the city;
essential even, because they supplied most of the work, most of the
feed, most of the homes, most of the dwellings most of fucking
everything at the end of the day. Christ, if they were to up sticks
and go this town would be fucked. So that is why his mother had to
go and Simon was happy that his father had made a point of telling
everyone how strong Simon was being, how supportive in these tough
times, how so much like his father he was and that one day the city
would have a new, even better businessman. Oh yes, how Simon was
happy with that.

He took a deep
drag of the cigarette; his blue eyes closing as he lingered on the
hot sourness in his mouth. Simon kept his eyes closed as he
remembered the girl he had dreamt about last night. She had been
tall, red haired with a body to die for; firm backside, narrow hips
and ample titties. The dream had seemed to go on all night, tiring
him even when he was awake after a good ten hours sleep. He’d had a
hard cock when he woke and he could feel it coming back. She had
done whatever he had asked for last night. But who the fuck was
she? Simon had never seen her before and he really wanted to meet
her if she was real.

If he only knew
her name then he would seek her out. He was good at finding people.
Especially those that didn’t want to be found. Devious to the last
and Simon had a way of seemingly being you’re friend as he
destroyed everything around you and at the end still left you
felling like ‘Hey, that Simon is an alright kid and ‘hey, even
though he has scammed me out of my parents will; I will buy him a
beer down the local.’

Opening his eyes
he looked to his right. Dotty should be here any moment. He
pictured her in his mind’s eye and laughed at the stupidity of her
body. She was built like a man. Built for heaving equipment across
vast distances, but in the end only good for painting and fucking
about with.

Be careful with
that one Simon.

They young man
squinted as he tried to pick out whose voice that had been. It was
female, sort of like his mothers, but much more seductive in tone.
He took another drag, stood and dropped the butt to the floor
stamping on it as he walked down the flight of stairs from his
porch and out onto the front yard.

Don’t ignore me
Simon. I won’t come again if you do.

Simon stood stock
still and looked down at his feet. He recognised the voice.

‘Sorry. I won’t
ignore you.’ He said to the floor.

He didn’t see
Dotty turn the corner.

Now listen to me
Simon and listen well. Leave the girl alone. Mess with her and
that’s it between us. Leave her alone and…’

The voice tailed
off and Simon felt a hand grip his balls and start rubbing them. He
breathed deep as his cock began to grow.

‘Good morning,
Simon.’ Dotty yelled from halfway down the road.

The young man
sighed as the hand removed itself from his pants and when he looked
up he wasn’t surprised to see Dotty trudging down the road waving
her hand like a complete fucking idiot; paint tins clanging
together like an out of tune church bell.

12

It didn’t take
long for Simon to explain to Dotty what was needed to be done. The
fence needed, cleaning, sanding and painting; the paint was in the
shed it was white and don’t make a mess. That’s it. When it came to
everyday tasks Dotty was a stupid as the day is long but when it
came to painting she was smart. Quick to understand and quick to
deliver and today she would work unhindered. Whatever it was that
had come to him earlier on, he sure was preoccupied with. Simon lay
in the front yard his face turned to the sun for the rest of the
day thinking about the woman that seemed to fulfil his desires
without a second thought.

13

Dotty was pleased
Simon was distant today. She had been in such a good mood after the
great dream she had had last night that she at first thought Simon
was going to be a little sod and play her up. But that didn’t look
like it was going to happen. Simon looked as though he was
sleeping; so Dotty got on with her work.

She at first
walked the length of the fence making sure she checked both sides
for damage and apart from a few nails that needed hammering in the
fence was in good condition and by ten o’clock she was sanding it
down; a job that would take all day.

Whilst she sand
down the fence her mind would drift back to the dream. Usually when
she painted or sanded the surrounding area would be filled with
song but today Dotty did not want to sing. There had been enough
singing in last night’s dream to last a year and she was happy in
the silence. Old Man Thatcham’s house was situated at the end of a
rather long road filled with large houses with even larger gardens.
Old Man Thatcham’s was the largest, the grandest and the neatest.
Only the fence needed repair. The rest of the house was pristine.
Like a dream in itself and Dotty enjoyed looking at it from time to
time. It was a house that deserved a family she always thought to
herself and she wished that she could have had her family in that
house. The house had a huge front door painted black and either
side of it were two massive windows. Three windows were on the
second floor and built into the slate roof was another smaller
window. That was were Old Man Thatcham study was and where no one
was allowed to go. Not even Simon according to her Dad.

You can come and
play though.

Dotty carried on
sanding down the uppers of the fence. She didn’t ignore the soft
voice coming from the girl she had met in the forest during her
dream; on the contrary, she listened to the voice like she listens
to all the voices.

You can come and
play in the study. Mike won’t mind.

‘Not allowed. Dad
says so.’ Dotty said to the voice in her head even though she
wanted too.

Ahh come on Dotty.
Come and play with me. I promise it will be okay.

Dotty shook her
head and stopped sanding the wood; turning her head she looked up
at the window in the roof and she saw the young girl with red hair
waving at her. ‘No. Not allowed. Now stop asking me.’

The voice stopped
and the girl moved away but Dotty was certain she was still up
there, somehow watching her behind the walls and waiting for the
right time to ask again. Dotty was unsure if she could keep on
saying no.

14

Varula

She’s a pretty
thing. Sweet like chocolate with a hard middle. I would very much
like to have her.

I’m going to have
her. Make a nice tasty treat before and after what I has
planned.

She is going to be
stubborn. Simple people are always stubborn. But I is clever and
she isn’t. I have lived for hundreds of years and I can be stubborn
too.

All I need is
these others to keep on going and I will have all that I want and I
will be my own mistress like I was before.

Soon Little Dotty
you will come and play. Come and play with Varula; but first I am
going to have a little fun with you.

See you in your
dreams Little Dotty

Play Time

1

‘Bring her to me,
Mike. Bring her to me and I will let you have me for all time.’ The
red haired woman, beautiful to Mike beyond description, said as she
caressed the old man’s face.

He could not
answer for he was besotted with her. He simply nodded in
acceptance.

‘That is good
Mike. You are a good man. A strong man. A man that get things done.
And you will get this done for me, Mike. You will get this done for
me or you will face my wrath.’

The woman ran her
soft hands down his chest and over Mike’s naked legs. He yearned
for her to do more but knew, knew deep down inside, that she would
not.

Still unable to
speak, he nodded once more.

‘You want me don’t
you Mike?’

‘Yes.’ Mike was
surprised by his own voice. The woman wasn’t.

‘You are strong,
aren’t you, Big Daddy,’ the woman looked down between his legs then
back to his face her right brow raised. ‘But you can’t have me. Not
yet.’

Her lips were
moist, her mouth tempting with every movement. Her body was smooth,
skin pale with a soft glow. Mike wanted to reach out and touch her.
But he couldn’t. He mustn’t. There was something about this woman.
Powerful. Evil.

But she was just a
woman. A woman that he could have. He has screwed many women so why
shouldn’t he have this one. He can have this one. He will have this
one.

Mike reached out
to stroke the soft skin of her bosom; his hands a soft tremble.

The woman stood;
pushing Mike to the ground his head hitting the floor with a thump.
Her face was now a mangled mess, her soft pale skin now ripped and
decaying.

‘NOT YET BIG
DADDY! BRING ME THE GIRL!’ She screamed and Mike…

…awoke covering
his eyes. He was laying on the sitting room floor; his body sweaty
and his head throbbing. He sat up rubbing the back of his head
where it had struck the wooden floor. All he could remember was the
red haired woman and how important it was to get the girl.

2

Simon laid upon
the bank of the River Strain, the sun in his eyes the wind
caressing his naked form. The woman had come to him again and had
satisfied herself upon him and now she spoke to him of the
girl.

He had to leave
her alone, she said. He had to let her be and all will be well. He
had to go from the house Tomorrow before the girl arrived and he
had to come to this place and wait there all day. Not to go back.
Not for anything. Not for anyone. When the sun begins to set then
he could go back.

Simon was sure the
woman was still there. He could feel a hot breath on his left
shoulder. He was happy here on the banks of the river. Not really
one for such things as lying by the river and sun bathing; but
here, right now, with this woman, he was happy.