The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (50 page)

“You’ll sue even though your uncle and cousin are among the trustees?”

“Blood relations don’t count when such critical issues are at stake. When we talk of children, there can be no compromises.”

“How are your relations with President Butcher?”

Wolf twisted his lips. Here we go again. Over and over. He quickly glanced at his watch. Seven-forty-two pm. This was his ninth ‘exclusive’ interview of the day and he was limping on the last reserves of energy…and patience. But he remembered Maddy’s words: “You need to befriend the media. That’s the best way to build on the public support that has now come your way. And no matter what the provocation—and they’ll deliberately try to incite, for that’s just part of their nature and job description—remain affable. No swearing whatsoever. No
Sweet shits
and no
fucks
and
cunts,
remember.”

“Mr. Butcher?”

“Can we not speak of it, please? It’s too personal.”

“But we’ve been speaking of nothing but personal things. You agreed,” she said, then steered him. “Can we safely assume that your relations are strained?”

Oh you pathetic cunt, how you just love tragedy in other people’s lives!
“Yes,” he said.

“Perhaps more than strained?”

“Now…don’t push it!” And he simulated a laugh. And she laughed back.

“Well, thank you so much, Mr. Butcher. It’s been such a pleasure.” She offered her hand and they shook.

Yes, such a fucking pleasure for you, you perverted slut,
Wolf was thinking.

Five minutes later they had packed up and were gone and Wolf went into the bedroom. No sooner had he lain down on the bed, his cellphone rang.

“It’s me,” Maddy said. Her voice was grim and Wolf tensed.

“What’s it?”

“They’ve found Robin.”

Wolf sat up. “What? Where?”

“She’s in the ICU of Butcher Hospital.”

Wolf didn’t say anything. His heart had stopped.

“Wolf?”

“Y…yes…”

“She’s in a serious condition, but stable. She’ll make it.”

“W…what…happened? Where…how…”

“Apparently, some gentleman brought her in, then he disappeared.”

“Okay, I’ll go there…”

“Easy, Wolf,” she said. “Don’t even think of going anywhere near the hospital. There are police all over the place and her room is a fortress.”

“But I must see her! She will need me!” he shouted. He was on his feet.

“Don’t be a prick! There’s no point rushing there senselessly. They’ll only arrest you again.”

“You don’t understand…I
must
see her!”

“And you
will
see her. But have a little patience.”

“Okay when…how?”

“Tonight, thirty minutes past midnight. Meet me at the hospital parking lot.”

.

I
t was exactly twelve-twenty-five am when Wolf and Savannah hit the parking lot of the twelve story Butcher Hospital. They were immediately accosted by Maddy.

“Follow me,” Maddy directed.

Four hefty security guards manned the main entrance. Maddy nodded at them and the three were let in without fuss, although it wasn’t visiting hours.

As the escalator climbed to the fifth floor, Wolf asked, “How?”

“I have my ways,” she said cryptically.

The ICU was on the north wing and Maddy nodded at the nurse manning the front desk. Five armed policemen lingered outside ICU Special Room 8. They came to attention and gave Maddy a little salute. Wolf’s jaw dropped.

Wolf was suddenly very nervous. He hesitated outside the room, but Maddy prodded him and finally he went in.

It was a labyrinth of tubes, bottles, bags, needles, wires and flickering machines.

Wolf didn’t see her at first, then when he did, he didn’t recognize her. A tiny child, no more than three years old, lay on a bed that almost consumed her. Her face was as white as the pillow beneath her head. A tube bifurcated and entered both her nostrils. Another, larger tube, went into her mouth. Needles poked into her flesh from every side, pumping strange chemicals into her little body. But for the fact that her chest rose and fell, ever so faintly, Wolf would’ve vowed he was looking at the corpse of a little girl. A sudden sob rose up his chest and he turned around and rushed out of the room.

He collapsed into a red plastic bucket seat in the lobby and covered his face with his hands.

The constables regarded him for a minute, then turned their faces away.

Savannah sat on the seat to Wolf’s right and took him gently in her arms.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, Wolf,” Maddy said standing in front of him.

Wolf didn’t look up. For the next fifteen minutes, they were all very quiet. Savannah kept holding him and Maddy now sat on his other side and placed a hand on his thigh, as was her wont.

“I’ve talked to the doctors,” Maddy said eventually. “She’s suffering from deep trauma, but she’s going to be alright. They gave her a thorough examination. She has not been physically violated in any way…nothing of that sort. In fact, whoever dropped her at the hospital actually seems to have rescued her.”

“Look at her…look what they have done to her!” he moaned without looking up.

Maddy nodded, in sympathy and understanding, and squeezed his thigh.

“They’ll pay! The whole fucking lot! I’ll make the fuckers pay! It’s the fucking Home that’s responsible!” he suddenly exploded, looking up. His eyes were red burning coals and made Savannah flinch. Then he turned on Maddy. “You are a reporter, aren’t you? A top-notch one at that. You’ve seen what they’ve done to her. Why don’t you splash it on your front page? Is it not hot enough news? Is it only me and Savannah you get the pleasure of screwing?” he shouted in her face. “What sort of a fucking hackette are you?”

“Wolf, that’s not fair,” Savannah said gently.

“Like hell it’s not! If this bitch hadn’t made it her life’s purpose to screw us, this wouldn’t be happening today in the first place! She! She’s the fucking cause of all our suffering. She started it all. This fucking cunt!”

Maddy gawked at Wolf in absolute shock. Then she leapt to her feet and dashed out. Savannah ran after her, grabbed her arm, but Maddy flung it away.

.

H
e couldn’t go into the room again. It was too painful. But he couldn’t bear to leave either. So he sat on the red bucket chair outside, his head in his hands. Savannah alternated between sitting with him and sitting by Robin’s side. Finally, at five am, the night nurse told them they really needed to leave now. She was kind and courteous.

Savannah took Wolf by the arm and led him to the escalator.

In the car park, she began sitting him in the passenger-side seat. But he resisted.

“No, I’m okay,” he said and gave a little shudder. He got in behind the wheel.

“WHAT’S THE BLOODY TIME?”

The voice so startled Savannah, she banged her head against the vehicle’s roof. She spun around.

Maddy was rubbing her eyes and yawning in the back seat. She threw out her arms and thrust out her chest and stretched her body, like a cat waking from slumber. Then she squinted at her watch.

“You kidding me, it’s five!” she swore to herself. “What the hell have you guys been doing?”

Wolf turned ignition and ground gear. But then he stopped and turned to Maddy.

“Aren’t you getting off?”

“It’s too early in the morning for me to get off.”

Wolf snarled at her. “Shut up with your sick wisecracks, will you?!”

She chuckled. “Okay, okay, Holly-boy, relax, no need to detonate your balls. Anyways, I’m going with you guys.”

“And your vehicle?”

“I came in a cab.”

Half an hour later, they were home.

As they entered the house, Wolf turned to Maddy.

“How did you manage it? The security guys, the coppers, the nurses, the doctors…”

She winked at him. “You’ve surely heard the old adage:
everyone has a price
?”

“Not everyone,” he said.

“Oh, sure, everyone. Each one of us. Each living being that needs to breathe. Even Jesus Christ. Only the currency differs.”

He regarded her for a second, then shook his head.

“You screw me by day and soothe me by night,” he said. “Nice.”

“That’s my job,” she nodded seriously. “And it’s such a pleasure.”

.

The
Great Room of Butcher Garden was the chief sitting room for guests. It had twelve plush maroon settees and an equal number of lush arm chairs, good to seat forty-eight adults very comfortably. The west wall of the room was plastered with a twenty feet by ten world map. On the east wall was a similarly sized map of the cosmos, with Planet Earth a dot somewhere on it. The much larger southern wall was adorned with life-size black-and-white portraits of the five deceased members of the family, smiling down benevolently on the big room. The north wall had French windows that opened to the back garden.

Against the south wall, under the portraits, was an artificial coral reef aquarium, forty-eight feet long and eight feet tall. Bright on one side it gradually dimmed toward the other. The imitation red and white corals looked as authentic as the real. From the red-eye Diamond Angel, to the Green Cory, to the Golden Discus, the Red Platy, the Rainbow Shark, the Pearl Scale goldfish, the Zebra Danio…they glided across the length and breadth of the water body in unhurried harmony.

On the northwest corner of the room was a Baby Ben, that ran to the ceiling and chimed as exquisitely as its big brother in London. On the northeast was an Eiffel Tower standing fourteen feet tall. Between two sets of French windows on the north side was a miniature replica of the Taj Mahal, almost twelve feet tall and as breathtaking in its artistry and intricacy as the original. Near the southwest corner was a globe of planet Earth, ten feet in diameter, and programmed to rotate on its axis exactly as the real one—the pretender completed a full rotation in precisely twenty-four hours. It was accurate to a nanosecond.

Besides the usual clutter of grand carpets and lamp shades, the room was speckled with varied pottery from Taiwan, Burma and Thailand—ceramic, brass and wood. Vases of fresh roses from the garden outside sent a wonderful odor swirling around the room. Then there were the Bonsai—an eighty-five year old Banyan, a seventy-three year old Tamarind, a twelve year old Chinese Juniper, an ancient Fukien…

And it was to this exquisite room that they had all gathered for an emergency meeting on this Friday evening of May 2nd—the five Trustees of the St. Teresa Children’s Home: President Grant Butcher, Judge Ian Cass, Art Butcher, Sister Blessing and Cardinal Valerian Misquitta.

They were grim and restless and once the coffee was served, Grant Butcher began.

“You are aware of the reason we are assembled here,” he said, rather formally. “Wolf filed a lawsuit against the Home this morning.”

“And we must fight it,” Ian Cass said.

“And we shall. But in the meantime, we need to solve this major problem with the little girl, Robin, once and for all. It has turned into a circus.”

The other four nodded solemnly.

“Have you seen today’s newspapers?” Cass said. “They’ve done a complete u-turn on the issue. Suddenly, Wolf and that woman are heroes and we’re the new felons. I ain’t believe this! And with what has happened to that poor child, the situation ain’t get any worse for us.”

“This is helping no one,” Cardinal Misquitta said. He was a tall, slim, royal-looking man, with a Jesus Christ beard and Osho eyes. “These incidents are doing great damage not only to the Home, but to the Christian religion as a whole. An end must be put to it now.”

“So what do you propose, Valerian?” Grant asked, wondering how it was hurting the Christian religion.

But instead of Valerian suggesting a way out, it was Cass who butted in again. “Ain’t it obvious, Grant? Like you said—we need to permanently solve the problem with this girl, Robin. And the only way to do that effectively is to get her adopted.”

Grant’s jaw slackened. “You are not suggesting…”

“Not what you think, no. We ain’t going to be guided by public opinion, for we’ve all seen how fickle that is. One minute they’ll dance to one tune, the next to quite a contrary one, depending on what stimulates their jungle instincts. No, I ain’t suggesting that we change our minds and let Wolf adopt this girl. Like before, we shall continue to be guided by moral principles and that is paramount in all this.” He paused for a second, looked around the little gathering, and satisfied they were all with him, he continued, “We get Robin adopted by some other couple—that is my suggestion. Once that is accomplished, the whole matter will inevitably die down.”

“And how do we do that? Give advertisements in newspapers…or commercials on television?” Grant said, with a dash of sarcasm.

Cass smiled, somewhat patronizingly. “Nothing so overt. That would only worsen the situation, what with the Press taking such keen interest.”