The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (51 page)

“How then? Please enlighten us, dear Ian,” Grant said, rather impatiently.

“I have a list of two couples with me. Each honorable and well placed members of society. Given a chance, each is ready to adopt Robin.”

There was a moment’s silence. Grant inhaled deeply. “That was quick, Ian.”

“Well, I’d anticipated the present situation and had been working on it for a while now.”

“Please tell us more,” Cardinal Misquitta said. His hypnotic eyes had suddenly lighted up.

So Cass told them—gave them the names and details of the two families keen on adopting Robin. There were nods of agreement all around. Only Misquitta had one question.

“Why two families, Ian? Do you propose we divide the poor girl between them?” And he laughed at his own non-joke.

“Just in case our first choice bails out for some reason at the last moment. One should always maximize one’s options,” Cass said without warming up to the Cardinal.

“So this…this Pringle couple…they are your first selection then?” Grant asked.

“Yes, they’re the best bet for the girl, in every way. They’re devout Christians, well off, and with an impeccable standing in society. The girl ain’t getting a better home than that.”

“How do you know them?”

Cass pointed to Art.

“Derek Pringle works for me,” Art said. “He’s one of my top managers. Excellent man. Excellent couple.”

“Excellent deal for the little girl,” Cass added.

Grant turned to the head of the Home. “Sister Blessing?”

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Do you have anything to say in all this?”

“Nothing really, sir. I agree to the proposals put forward here.”

Cass sighed. “We are decided then. Robin shall get a home with the Pringles as soon as she leaves the hospital,” he said. “And let us do this as quietly as possible…not a whiff to anyone outside this circle.”

They all nodded.

Suddenly the room relaxed.

.

T
hanks to Maddy Witcher’s mysterious links, Wolf and Savannah visited Robin every night, past midnight. Robin remained sedated all through.

After one swift look at his daughter, Wolf would spend the rest of the night on a red bucket chair out in the lobby. It was a very difficult time for him. He so wanted to engulf his baby in his arms and hug her tight to him, to kiss her cheeks and reassure her that Daddy was here now and that it was going to be all right, that no harm would come to her ever again. He knew he ought to at least sit by her side and hold her hand, touch her in some way, make her somehow aware of his presence. But he couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as her, far less touch her or look at her. He felt terribly guilty about it—felt like an utter wuss…a weak, impotent coward.

Savannah would again spread her time between Robin and Wolf. Though she said very little, her mere closeness gave Wolf some strength and made it all somewhat bearable. Wolf knew that but for her, he would’ve long suffered a nervous collapse.

During that time, Wolf rented a studio apartment on the top floor of Dias Apartments. By now, most people had become aware of his presence at Dias Street and it had become a nuisance. He needed a fresh hideout.

.

T
he seventh day of her hospitalization brought fresh news.

It was nine-fifteen pm, Wednesday, May 7th, when Maddy called Wolf.

“I have info for you, Holly-boy. Robin is awake.”

For a long minute, Wolf couldn’t say anything.

“Wolf?”

“How’s she?”

“Doing fine, apparently.”

“Can she talk?”

“Yes. And she recognizes people. Your Dad and aunt, Art and Rochelle, Mr. Cass and people from the Home were there to see her this evening.”

“Is she in pain? Is she hurting? Is she g…”

“Wolf, calm down! If she can talk and recognize people, she has to be better than the last time we saw her, don’t you…”

“What happened? What did she say…why did she run away from the Home? Or was she kidnapped?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Where are you?”

“Why, at the Tribune office of course.”

“Why aren’t you with her? You have access to her, don’t you? Then why is she alone? You should be there by her side…why did you leave her? Shit, Maddy, what’s wrong with you?! Have you…”

“Dammit, Wolf, I’m not your bloody slave! I have a job to keep besides caring for you and yours!”

Wolf’s head dropped. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be a prick,” she said. “So I’ll be there past midnight as usual, okay?”

“Can’t we go early? Can’t we go now?”

“Too dangerous. But Wolf, it’s going to be alright.” There was a slight pause, and then her tone changed abruptly. “Savannah there with you?”

“Yes.”

“Cuddle up to her. You’ll feel better. Better still, suckle on her breasts. Drink some milk. It’ll soothe you.”

“Screw you!”

“Okay, then at least convince her to let me do it. I suck great, I tell you. I’ll give her an orgasm just sucking her tits. I guarantee it.”

“Fuck off, pervert!”

.

“
D
addyyyyy!”

The thin husky voice bubbled in Wolf’s ears like delightful music. Her eyes were alight with excitement and her cheeks glowed with joy.

He hastily bit his lip hard, then took her tenderly in his arms. Her little face fit real good in the crook of his shoulder and they remained like that for a very long time, their chests rising and falling rhythmically against each other, rocking forward and backward ever so slightly.

When finally they parted, she said, “I fell sick, Daddy.” Her face blushed with embarrassment and she looked down.

“Yes, I know and that’s alright,” he said, running his fingers through her soft hair. He pressed her head back to his chest and held her close. “You feeling better now, sweetie?”

She nodded, hugging him with her one arm.

Wolf and Savannah spent the next couple of hours with their daughter. The maze of tubes and bottles and wires was no more. Seeing his baby now, Wolf felt a rare peace in his core. Though feeble and shrunk, she had recovered well, and Wolf wanted to thank all the doctors and nurses and everyone else who had looked after her during these days.

Around three am, Robin finally drifted off into a doze. Wolf and Savannah watched her for a while, then Savannah rose to her feet. She carefully tucked Robin in and looked at Wolf.

“I don’t want to leave,” he said obstinately.

Savannah wound an arm around his waist. “I know. Neither do I. But we have to.”

He muttered a curse under his breath and kept looking at his little Butterfly. Oh, he was so proud of her. Despite everything, she had remained strong. She never complained once when the nurse poked a brutal needle into her hip. She never complained once of the pain she must surely be feeling. Seeing her, he felt so ineffective, so useless. All he could manage was to meet her on the sly, like some wretched outlaw, and then he couldn’t even stay with her for any length of time. He couldn’t share her pain, he couldn’t be beside her as she fought bravely to get well again.
What sort of a pathetic milksop are you?

He felt a squeeze on his shoulder and he swallowed, then turned around and rapidly left the room.

Maddy was waiting outside. There was someone with her—a late-twentyish woman in tight jeans and a loose white coat over a blue brook shirt.

“This is Dr. Maya Antle,” Maddy introduced. “She’s the night resident.”

Dr. Antle flashed a smile and thrust out a hand.

“Did Robin say what happened to her?” Wolf asked, after the greetings were done.

“Did she tell
you
anything?” Doc Antle asked in return.

Wolf shook his head. “She doesn’t remember. Nothing at all.”

Doc Antle nodded. “She’s seems to be suffering from specific-period amnesia.” And then she went on to explain how severe trauma could result in the blocking off of the traumatic incident—the mind’s way of coping with unbearable pain.

Wolf exhaled. No wonder, Robin had shown no psychological scars whatsoever. In her mind, she had simply fallen physically ill.

“She doesn’t even remember she ever had a pet chipmunk called Stripey,” Wolf said.

“Perhaps her trauma has something to do with that?” Maddy suggested.

“Has the creature been found?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“When will she be ready to leave the hospital, doctor?” Savannah asked.

“In four-five days.” She fished out a small note-book and a ball-pen from her coat pocket. “Could I have your autograph please, Wolf?”

Wolf smiled. Of course she could. Five autographs, in fact, before Doc Antle was satisfied. Then, it was Selfie time. Three Selfies, in three different poses.

“Just so I can show it to my future children and grand-children. Or else they’ll never believe me.”

Then more Selfies, with the five nurses who manned the floor, each one exclusively. The policemen weren’t to be left out either.

Finally, Wolf understood what Maddy had meant: “Everyone has a price…only the currency differs.” Luckily for him, these people were satisfied with small pleasures. Recently retired he might have been from showbiz, but he was still a superstar in everyone’s eyes. And like stars, he didn’t fade off that easy. No wonder he was still able to enthrall these simple people.

Or were they really enthralled? Was something much more substantial involved besides? He suddenly had a strong intuitive feeling that all this went a lot deeper—something huge was going on under the carpet…a place that was beyond his radar right now.

Only later would he glaringly realize how true his hunch had been.

As they drove back home, Wolf remembered what Doc Antle had said. Robin would be discharged soon. He knew he had to make a move now—a serious move. A big move. Or it would be too late for them.

DEREK
Pringle was a happy man of thirty-eight. Helen Pringle was a happy woman of thirty-five. Melvyn Pringle was a happy kid of twelve. Together, they were one hell of a happy family of three.

They were happy because they were well-off in life, healthy of mind and body, and well-accepted and well-liked in the society they patronized.

They lived in a well-stoked four bedroom apartment in Cooper Gardens, a posh district in the north of the city-state. They weren’t weighed down by mortgage and had enough money to vacation three times a year, no corners cut. They had a bank balance that fattened every year and were cushioned with all sorts of insurance, from medical, to home…to protection against attack from extra-terrestrials. They owned a Maybach 62S and an Acura TSX. The adults possessed Citibank Prestige MasterCard, Diners, and American Express. They were members of four top-notch clubs, and wined and dined at least three evenings a week in the island’s top restaurants. For the rest, they entertained or were entertained. And, above all, they unfailingly attended Church every Sunday morning and on special occasions.

Derek Pringle was a handsome man and aware of it. Six-two and lean, he religiously worked out five days a week at Butcher Organization’s exclusive gymnasium for top officers of the company. He was also a two-dan Taekwondo black-belt, the only top-level manager in the firm so endowed. He loved clothes and his wardrobe comprised ten sets each of every major designer label available in the world. He loved shoes and had sixty pairs of them, all branded. He also had a beautiful wife, a Brit, daughter of a London departmental store owner. She had borne him an immaculate son, perfect of body and brain, who studied at Woodland, one of the nation’s top schools, who excelled at soccer and invariably stood first in his class. Typically, Melvyn was Derek and Helen’s pride and joy—the reason for their existence.

So, the Pringles were a happy family.

But the Pringles were a happy family because of one man—Art Butcher. The world’s richest man, who owned the world’s richest company, was Derek’s employer, his Angel. While, there were tons of talented professionals around in the firm, Mr. Butcher had somehow taken a fancy to him and Derek’s rise in Butcher Organization had been swift. Derek was grateful for this and short of harming himself, or his wife or son, he would repay Art Butcher any way he could, without a thought.

So when one morning, Mr. Butcher summoned him to his office and said, “I have a special favor to ask you, Derek,” Derek did not hesitate.

“Please say the word, sir,” he said earnestly, ecstatic that the world’s most powerful businessman should at all ask him a favor.

But when he heard what the special favor was, Derek was staggered beyond words.

That night, in bed, after making tepid love to his wife, he talked to her about it.

“The boss wants us to adopt this famous girl from the orphanage,” he said, in deep distress. “What’s her name…Robin, the one we keep reading about in the newspapers all the time, who is all over the television channels twenty four-seven.”