The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (75 page)

Then his thought went to his other son.
Goodness gracious, he has become just like Art! What has Art done to him?
Over the days, Art had somehow managed to mold Wolf in Art’s own image. Grant always knew Wolf was never really a strong person.
But is he so weak that he would allow dark influences to alter his essential personality?
Grant felt a shock go through him.
Goodness gracious, no!
He looked at Wolf again, and again saw the stranger and instinctively Grant knew that whatever he said was going to have no effect on this man before him. This was not Wolf. This was an imposter. A ruthless, pitiless pretender.

Grant rose to his feet.
I am disappointed in you, son. Sorely, sorely disappointed.
But he didn’t articulate his thoughts, just turned around and left. There was no point pushing this any further.

.

A
round the same time, Maddy was visiting Savannah.

“Ready for show time, honey?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant.

Can anyone be quite ready for such a thing?
“I guess,” Savannah answered listlessly.

“I only wish you would’ve accepted President Butcher’s offer of assistance. This is just too big for any one person to handle alone.”

“So you think I’m going to lose?”

“Well, Art Butcher has won the first round, and honestly, as good as McKenzie is…”

“No matter what the tests say, Art is NOT Robin’s father, nor was he my lover. It’s impossible. There’s major wool-pulling going on here.”

“But you can’t recollect who the real father is, can you? I suggest you go through some more sessions of hypnotherapy.”

“How many more!” she cried. “I’ve already had three and all it does is cause more and more pain. I can’t stand it anymore!”

Maddy put an arm around Savannah’s shoulder.

Suddenly, Savannah whimpered, “So what shall I do?” Her shoulders humped and defeat came into her face.

But it lasted only a minute. She straightened her back again.

“No, I shall fight. There’s no way they’re going to seize my child from me,” she said with renewed resolve, speaking aloud to herself. “I’m going to win, and then I’m going to find myself a job and I’m going back to school. I’m going to make it. I’m going to see to it my daughter lacks for nothing. I’ll work at three jobs if I have to. So I won’t be able to give her a palace and a giant rose garden and a swimming pool, but she’ll have the real things of life.” She looked up.

Maddy remained quiet, letting her be.

After a while, Savannah asked, hesitantly, “Does…does Wolf…call you?”

For just an instant, Maddy’s eyes flickered. Then she shook her head. “No. Nor does he talk to Rochelle anymore. He’s a changed man. Something’s happened to him. He has eyes only for Art. Somehow, Art has weaved a magic web around him.”

Savannah’s face fell. After constantly being with someone, you think you understand that person inside out. And the next thing you know is that you know them not at all. Quite truthfully, she missed Wolf, missed him a lot, and it had nothing to do with the court case. She missed him as a friend…as a boyfriend. As a lover-to-be. She realized she was still very much in love with him and wanted him by her side, not to help her out, but just to hold his hand, just to be held by him. She felt a sharp pang in her heart, but she bit her lip. What was the point—it was all so much water under the bridge.
Let’s be honest, I blew it. Why blame Wolf?
But perhaps he could’ve shown a bigger heart, like Uncle Grant had, like the others had.

“You’re not alone, Sav, we’re there for you,” Maddy said comfortingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

“I know.”

.

B
ut it wasn’t going to be alright.

On a Monday, July 28th, twenty-seven days after the hearing had begun, the court deemed Savannah Burns an unfit mother and handed custody of eight year old Robin to the father, Art Butcher.

THEY
ripped her apart. Totaled her character.

On the petitioner’s side sat Art Butcher, Wolf Butcher, and a battery of four of the best legal brains, with several assistants.

On the opposing side sat Savannah Burns, Maddy Witcher (who had taken a month’s leave from work), Rochelle Butcher, Grant Butcher, Keith McKenzie and his two assistants.

Grant had taken time off from his duties as President, handing over the reins to his deputy in the interim, so he could be by Savannah’s side as an ordinary citizen. In exceptional circumstances this was permitted under the New Halcyon constitution, especially when the Head of State finds himself temporarily incapable of discharging his obligations to the best of his abilities, or in situations where there is a clear conflict of interest.

“I should have stepped down long ago,” he had thought. “For the last few months, I have been more occupied with family matters than with affairs of the State. A small incident in the family and I rush over, leaving everything else behind, forgetting who I am. This is just not fair on the people of the country.”

The media and the public were equally split. While the Press (local and international, print and digital) fervently covered the hearings inside the courtroom, out on the streets the community stood passionately divided, kept removed from each other by a heavy posse of armed policemen. Countless Press cameras covered this conflict with glee, homing in as the opposing sides hollered and abused, gesticulated and waved banners.

Don’t Separate Mother And Child

---

Financial Muscle v/s Human Warmth

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STOP The CHILD PINCHERS

to:

Give The CHILD A Decent Upbringing

A WHORE Is NO Answer

---

A Woman Who Refused To Acknowledge Her Daughter

Now Wants To Deprive The Father.

The nation came to an abrupt standstill, as if it was Super Bowl time. Only, this super bowl was inexorable and extended for twenty seven long days. For the ten million people of New Halcyon and countless millions around the world, these were heady days of unrelenting intoxication.

Savannah hired a sitter for Robin, as she remained engrossed with her lawyer all day.

This was such a huge story that at one level Maddy regretted not being on the beat. But Grant had specially requested her to be by Savannah’s side.

“I shall consider it a personal favor if you can be with Savannah through this period,” he had said. Maddy hadn’t been able to refuse the President. But there was another far important consideration. There were tons of reporters covering this story. She would be just one of them.
Nothing special
. But by being an insider, she would be privy to compelling inside stories.
That is priceless…a gold mine if I ever choose to write a book on it!

They went for Savannah’s jugular without ado, the petitioners, then tore into her innards. At the end of the arguments, this was how The New Halcyon Times rounded it off…

The following is the abridged account of the petitioner’s arguments, as compiled by our court reporter Anthony Lewis:

“
Look at the bare facts, Judge. Not only did this woman do what she did, her life is a sequence of off-beam behavior. Throughout her relationship with Mr. Wolf Butcher, she has lied and cheated. First it was about her background. She didn’t reveal it to him even after he was head-over-heels in love with her. He found it out quite accidentally and what a devastation that was for him! And yet, his love for her was so great, he nevertheless accepted her for what she was. We can overlook that one episode as an aberration. But the lying and cheating continued unabated all through their relationship. Next, she denies having ever borne a child. Then when Mr. Butcher would adopt the little girl, she suddenly remembers. Hypnotherapy, she says, brought out her blocked memory. But we all know this gibberish has no legal or medical sanction. Now she goes a step further and denies the biological father, although a DNA paternity proves beyond doubt that Art Butcher is indeed the father of the child. More stories of blocked memory are tossed around. How selective can you get? Ms. Burns’s memory comes and goes as per her convenience.

“
But let us now get to the root of the matter. Is Ms. Burns a fit mother to raise a child as sensitive as Robin? Let’s consider the following facts: would a fit mother deny her child association with the one person who has been the nucleus of her life, when that person has done no wrong at all, but has been nothing but supportive all the time? Would a fit mother allow a child with a severe handicap to execute dangerous physical acts in a public park, knowing fully well that one little slip up could prove deadly? Ms. Burns has practically no social life. She hardly interacts with her neighbors and her best friend is another ex-prostitute. Is this the climate we want the child to be raised in?

“
Consider some more facts, Judge. This woman has no job and is unemployable; the money from her previous profession, of which we know so much, is running out. She has no skills except for what she used to do. How is she going to bring up the child? It is all too apparent that Ms. Burns was never interested in working at a decent job until after the petition was filed. Only then did she start looking. At least that was the show she put on, perhaps to impress us, or more likely to hoodwink us. But the plain truth is that Ms. Burns is simply not keen on legitimate work. When you can make a fortune doing nothing besides lending some flesh for a while, why work your a** off eight hours a day merely to make ends meet? The scent of easy money is difficult to resist. Didn’t Mr. Luke Shillington, manager of Hotel Paradise, testify that Ms. Burns had offered to spend the night with him for five thousand dollars? What does all this say?

“
If indeed Ms. Burns was so serious about putting her life in order, why did she make no attempts at finding work in the last six months? She says she was at a crossroads in life and was taking a hiatus to think things over and effect a makeover. Couldn’t she have at least acquired some skill during this period? How did she think she could lead a legitimate life, with legitimate work, without having anything to offer in return?

“
Ms. Burns’s money is running out. She is unemployable. She is prone to return to her earlier profession. Are we going to permit the little girl to be brought up in that hellish, ugly ambience, knowing well that the child’s father can give her not just an honorable upbringing, inculcating in her the best values of wholesome society, but can also give her all the material delights of life, which are her birthright? Why does Ms. Burns who professes to care so much for her daughter stand in the way of the child’s happiness?”

Of course, the opposition scored their own points—like Wolf Butcher himself lying about his true identity on the Internet; that Art Butcher himself had conveniently refused to recognize Robin as his daughter until very recently; that Savannah had acquired respectable friends, chief among them the revered President of the nation. But these were minor and basically ineffectual.

Through the trial, Wolf sat steadfastly beside his brother, shoulder-to-shoulder, his face carved from rock. Not once in all these days did he glance in the direction of the rivals. Moreover, he did not take the stand either, as was widely expected. Perhaps there was no need, after all.

Grant watched the one-sided hearing with a pained face. He felt so impotent. At one point, he almost leapt up shouting
he
would employ Savannah. But the woman had forbidden him, or any of her supporters, from doing any such thing. Till the last, Savannah was simply not ready to concede she would lose, although it screamed at her from all over.

“Whatever they say, Uncle Grant, however it may look now, I’m going to win. And then I
am
going to land work, with my own efforts,” she had said.

And Grant had thought,
your pride and your stubbornness are going to be your ruin, woman.

And that’s how it went.

The judge gave Savannah two days to hand Robin over to the father.

After the verdict was pronounced, Savannah sat still for a minute, staring vacantly at the chair the judge had just vacated. Then she sprung like a mousetrap and dashed to the restroom.

***

“
T
here is something I need to tell you, Robin,” she said. It was five past ten that night. They were in bed, Robin in her nightdress ready to fog off.

“Yes, Mom?”