The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (38 page)

Rochelle briefly told him. “Where are your cars?” she repeated anxiously.

“Left it on a far street. Could not get through.” He put a hand to his brow. “Thank God you people are alright. I was worried sick.” He was sweating and it wasn’t the heat. Not of the atmospheric kind.

Then Rochelle turned on Grant. Her eyes flared up. “Will you at least
now
reconsider your decision to dispense with the Presidential security, Uncle Grant? Please!”

Grant didn’t say anything.

Rochelle looked imploringly at her husband for support. But he just stood there next to his father, his face cold and expressionless, his eyes set.

“Where is Wolf?” Grant asked, his jaw hardening.

“In his room,” Rochelle said.

“He did not come out?” he demanded in disbelief.

“I ordered him not to. Things would’ve turned unmanageable if they had seen him,” Rochelle said quickly.

Grant opened his mouth, but then changed his mind. He looked around Butcher Garden again, then turned back to Rochelle. He smiled at her sadly and patted her cheek. Art was in his own thoughts and now left them and marched alone toward the house.

.

J
ust past nine pm that Tuesday, Rochelle brought a food tray to Wolf’s room.

The room was in darkness.

“Wolf, it’s me. Will you please turn the lights on? My hands are full,” she said from the door.

But he didn’t answer.

“Wolf!”

But again, no response.

Clicking her tongue, she somehow balanced the tray in one hand and flicked the switches on with the other.

He wasn’t in the room.

She kept the tray on the table and peeked into the washroom. He wasn’t there either.

She went out and began quietly searching for him. She called his cell, but it was turned off.

Finally, she called the main gate.

“He left fifteen minutes ago, ma’am. He took the jeep.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No, ma’am.”

Rochelle let out a long groan.

Now what, Wolf! Will you ever let us be in peace? Ever?!

HER
house was padlocked from the outside.

Where is she?
Had the mob got her? Was she hurt? Was she lying in some hospital? Which hospital? Or worse, had she been… Fear made Wolf’s knees tremble.

Hell, what should I do?

How could he find out anything? The only friend Savannah had was Lianne. And he didn’t even have the lady’s address or phone number.
Dammit, Wolf, you should’ve had the sense of taking these from Savannah!
Should he inquire with the police? But he guessed it would be pointless. The whole fucking world had turned against him and he wasn’t likely to get any cooperation from anyone, especially with Grant Butcher, the all-powerful President, around. Anxiety made him feel sick.

He wiped his brow on his sleeve and in despair began ringing the doorbell, then kept ringing frantically, his forehead against the wood. And then he remembered he had the spare keys to the apartment. As he was pulling them out from his trouser pocket, he heard a neighbor’s door being unfastened. For an instant, Wolf froze, then with a grunt, he turned around and lunged down the stairway, five steps at a time.

.

W
olf circled the St. Teresa Children’s Home for the third time, then finally dropped off the narrow road that ran along the eastern boundary of the Home. There were no sidewalks here, only dusty tracks, and he parked on the track across the wall. From here, above the high stone walls of the Home, he could see half the Church and the top floors of the school buildings, but not the children’s hostels. They lay on the far side.

He was thankful there were no humans around at this time. A vehicle darted past every now and then, but by and large he was by himself. He checked his watch. Ten-ten pm.

The hostel lights would be off by now, but he decided to wait another hour to be absolutely certain. He couldn’t afford to get caught. Then that would be the end of it forever.

There was a heaviness in his heart. A dull ache that made breathing strenuous. Where was Savannah…what had happened to her? His angst made him very edgy. It also made his need to see Robin acutely pressing. The two people who were his whole world were being torn away from him in the most cruel and pitiless manner imaginable.

He shouldn’t have called that fucking Press conference. What was he trying to prove? All he had managed was to bait himself.
What a juvenile imbecile!
And when the mob had come, all he could do was hide like a rat, leaving Rochelle and Estelle to fight it out on his behalf.
Wow, some champion, some man!
They had said nothing, his family, but it was clear he had become a major affliction for them. They were facing the flak for him and it wasn’t fair.

He slid his back down the driver seat and crossed his feet at the ankles. He folded his arms across his chest, then unfolded them. He uncrossed his feet and sat up again. He moved his head from side to side, twice. Then he checked his watch again. Ten-thirty.
Shit!
Time moved like a tortoise just when you needed it to flash through. At other times it wouldn’t slacken to toss a look in your direction.

Wolf looked at the silhouettes of the Home buildings. His mind went to the day’s The New Halcyon Tribune.

The little girl, Robin, desperately misses her daddy. She misses him so much she hasn’t eaten in two days. She cannot sleep and she feels herself shivering all the time. She says she wants to die.

In the gray stillness of the night, Wolf could hear his Butterfly’s cries, calling out to him, entreating him to come and get her.

I’m coming, my baby, Daddy is coming. Please cling on for just a little while more.
He banged his head against the steering wheel. He wanted to die too.

Minutes crawled by. Each minute was a lifetime. A lifetime of excruciating agony…sheer torture. He thought he would go mad. He grabbed his hair at the temples with both hands and began pulling it apart.

Stop it, stop! No, you can’t lose it. Your baby needs you. Both your babies need you. You have to keep your balls knit together.

With a great effort of will, he turned his mind away from Robin and Savannah.

Instead, he now thought of Rochelle.

What would he have done without her? She had been his Rock—a source of supreme strength and comfort to him through this all.
If only she had been my
… But again he flung the thought away as immoral, sickened with himself.
Your situation has warped your mind!
How she had sacrificed her own private life for him. He was amazed Art wasn’t reining her in. Perhaps he was trying, but Rochelle just wasn’t heeding anymore. This was a new Rochelle that Wolf was seeing of late, one so assertive, so forceful. Until now, all these years, she had been completely submissive to Art and his wishes, doing his bidding every time, being at his beck and call like some vassal, never defying him no matter what. At one level, Wolf had been somewhat contemptuous of her weak personality, but of course it had been none of his business.

He wished he could someday return her favors. Although how he could do that effectively, he had no clue. Yes, he knew of the one thing that she desperately wanted in life. A child, born of her own womb. But alas, there was nothing he could do about it.

But no, wait! Perhaps I can!
He could search the whole wide world for a miracle cure of her incurable condition. There had to be something somewhere, some supernatural physician, perhaps something in the alternative medicines…some magical potion. Wolf sighed and looked at the Church. How merciless life could be! And they said there was some God somewhere.
Where the fuck is he when the innocents need him the most? … It is all human fantasy, this God business. A fucking eyewash. Fucking human delusions, nothing else.
…
Like someone had so rightly said
: “God is a hallucination of a fanciful human mind”
. Oh, how true!

At that moment, not in his wildest fantasy could he have conjured up that one day he would indeed be presenting Rochelle the miracle cure—that magical potion that would once and for all cure her incurable condition. That, one day, the supernatural physician would be found.

And then finally it was eleven-fifteen, and Wolf bolted upright. He discarded his cap, shades and coat, then grabbed the cotton bag from the passenger seat that he had brought with him. The bag had a long strap and he slung it across his shoulder. Opening the door, he jumped out of the jeep.

For a second, he looked around him. No humans, no vehicles.
Great!
There were some thick thorn bushes alongside the wall, but enough clear spaces too.

Suddenly, he leapt in the air. He spun around wildly…then realized a dog had been sniffing his leg.
Shit, pal, you scared the bowels off me!
He smiled now and went down on his haunches and patted the little stray. The fellow’s eyes lighted up and his hinds began to wag briskly. He had a nice coat—white background with random brown spots. Wolf briefly thought of the bag on his shoulder. But he sighed regretfully—he couldn’t afford to indulge the dog. Not today. With another sigh of regret, he got back to his feet.

“Bye now,” he said to the canine. “Another time, okay, mate? Today I have extremely important business.”

But the fellow didn’t want to leave. He hadn’t known such affection in his life before, however brief, and he wanted more of it, didn’t want to let go. Wolf hardened himself and ignoring the fellow, crouched in a sprinting stance. The distance to the Home wall would be some thirty feet, he guessed. With a final glance around, he surged—sprinting across the road, avoiding the thorn bushes, and lobbing over the high wall in one smooth transfer, landing neatly on the balls of his feet on the other side, leaving the little dog behind him, howling in longing.

The sky was clear and lit the massive ground well. He could see the main gate on the far side of the property. It was shut, but there was no sign of any security personnel. Wolf knew they would be somewhere around. Keeping to the shadows, he skirted like a leopard across the grounds, moving quickly past the Church, the schools, then the Boys’ Hostel.

He came up silently behind the stone bench outside the Girls’ Hostel. Sure enough a guard sat on watch. Wolf waited. And watched and listened. He took a step forward and paused. The guard was hunched forward, leaning heavily on his long thick cane which was firmly grounded before him. After a minute, Wolf took another couple of steps. He could now hear the fellow’s breathing. It was a light snore and it told Wolf what he needed to know. Keeping one eye on the main gate, Wolf soundlessly slid around the stone bench and to the ajar main door of the hostel.

.

“
S
hhhhh…!” he whispered, the forefinger of his right hand across his lips. His other hand was pressed softly, but firmly, to her mouth, stifling any possible sound from her.

Robin stared up in stark fear, her eyes wide and round.

“It’s me, Butterfly,” Wolf said, bringing his face close to hers.

Slowly recognition filtered in; gradually fear began seeping out of the girl’s eyes. And then in its place came a queer muddle of emotions. First disbelief, then pure thrill, then anger, then hurt…in a train-like sequence. Finally a curious blend of all these. And confusion. Great confusion.

And then suddenly her eyes went blank, as if a blind had plunged down before them. It strongly reminded Wolf of Savannah—the same tendency.

Stripey triggered and began sleep-walking around the bed, sniffing intuitively around his mistress’s body. Something had happened, some equation had changed, he knew at a subconscious level. The perfect harmony of the night had been disrupted.

Wolf looked at Robin. He had almost not recognized her. She looked lighter than a feather, as if half her blood had been taken away from her. Her once chubby cheeks were flat and drab and her eyes had sunk into their sockets. A sob rushed up Wolf’s stomach and garroted him.
Oh, just look what they have done to her!

He couldn’t bear it anymore. In one clean motion, he hoisted Robin up in his arms.

Suddenly left behind, Stripey panicked for a second, but quickly regathered his wits and rushed up Wolf’s legs, then jumped onto his mistress’s belly.

They were on the terrace in thirty seconds flat and Wolf put Robin back on her feet. It was a genial night and he knelt before her. He held Robin by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

“Surprised, my love?” he said, simulating a dazzling smile.

But there was no come back from her. Her eyes remained vacant—bereft of any expression.

He squeezed her shoulders. “Aren’t you happy to see Daddy, uh?” He widened his smile.

But again no reaction, none whatsoever. Stripey, now fully awake, busied himself, smelling around, as if in search of some mysterious treasure.

Wolf swallowed, then tried again.

And still again.