The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (74 page)

Wolf smiled. He looked straight into his brother’s eyes. “I was just assessing you,” he said quietly. “Now I know.”

A confused look came to Art’s face. “You know?”

“Now I know for sure that you
really
are a man of your beliefs. I’m proud of you.” He gave Art a little salute, admiration in his eyes. “The thing I wanted to
really
tell you is that I have finally seen the light. I want nothing to do with Savannah Burns anymore. I’ve broken up with her for the final time.”

Art bowed his head. “How did that come about?” His voice was grim.

“I finally saw her true character.” Then he went ahead and told his brother how she had assaulted Grant. “I can stomach anything, but I can never bear anyone so much as speak in a high tone to Dad. It’s the ultimate crime. It’s an unpardonable sin. I’ve lost all my love, my respect…any feelings, for this woman. It’s over…” …completely overlooking that he himself had committed some of the same crimes and sins in the not too distant past.

The champagne was served…and the lime juice.

Art sighed. He extended his arm again and grasped Wolf’s hand.

“You’ve made the right decision,” he said, his eyes sober. “It’s never too late to correct oneself.”

“I hate this woman more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life.” His face was bitter. “Just the thought of her makes me want to throw up. How dare she even think of touching Dad? A man of that caliber, of that class, who the whole world worships… If it hadn’t been for Dad’s insistence, I would have got this woman arrested and jailed for a long, long time.”

Art squeezed his hand. “Forget it, it’s over now. Time to move on and think of the future. And the future is Robin. We always forget that she’s the most important person in all this. We have to rescue her at any cost.”

Wolf put his other hand on his brother’s. “What are our chances of getting custody? After all, that woman is still the mother and courts are known to favor mothers over fathers.”

“Our chances are one hundred percent. Have no doubt on that account. We have the best legal brains working for us. Our arguments are going to be so compelling, no judge on this planet can deny us custody. But you leave everything to me.”

Wolf shook his head, as if in utter amazement.

“What’s it?” Art prodded encouragingly.

“I know the DNA paternity has put all speculation to rest but I still cannot believe
you
are Robin’s real father. It’s so unreal.”

“Yes.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I do not want to leave Ms. Burns in the lurch. I’m willing to pay her good money as compensation for losing her daughter.”

“How good?”

“Anything she wants. Three million dollars. Five. … Even a hundred, no problem. I want her to be happy in her own way.”

Fondness came to Wolf’s eyes as he looked at his brother. “You’re a good man, Art, you’re a genuine person. The best Butcher amongst all of us. Jesus, how did I ever misread you so badly? The things they said about you…”

“I know. I heard.”

“What!”

“Yes. After the little incident we had the other night, I couldn’t sleep, knowing you were so distressed. So I had a little stroll in the front garden. While returning, I heard everything that went on between Father and you and Rochelle.”

Wolf lowered his head. “What ugly things they said about you. I’m ashamed.”

“There’s nothing for
you
to be ashamed of. In any case, they are after all still family. I hold nothing against anyone. Hopefully, one day they’ll see the truth about me.”

“Can I ask you something?” he said hesitantly. “Perhaps it’s none of my business.”

“Everything about this family
is
your business too, Wolf. Ask, whatever it is that’s bugging you.”

“They say…” He stopped, looked away.

“Come on, say it. If we cannot be frank and honest with each other, who else with then?”

Wolf exhaled. “They say…that…all the Butcher money, property…” He couldn’t complete it.

Art smiled. “Yes, that I’ve grabbed everything. Father has nothing. That no one else has anything. I know.” He pondered for a while. “But the truth is that Uncle Eric left everything to me on purpose. Because he knew the Butcher wealth would be safe with me, and if the Butcher wealth was safe so would the family be.”

“You mean…”

Art nodded grimly. “I hate to say this, but Father…” He dithered…but only for a second. “Father is really bad with money. I mean no disrespect to him at all, for after all he is my parent. I’m just stating the truth to you, and I wouldn’t to anyone else, so do not misunderstand me. Father has never earned a dime in his life, so he does not know its true worth. We all give to charities; in fact, there’s no one who donates more than me…us. And yet, there has to be some method in giving. We cannot be impetuous about these things or soon we’ll have nothing left. You cannot see a homeless or a tramp or some such faceless fellow and want to make his life a sudden heaven. Alright, you do it once, twice, but you can’t keep on going that way. Any charity has to be channeled, done through the proper means, through the proper route…through proper institutions. An act of charity can’t be anonymous, it should always be accompanied by adequate exposure, so that people know and appreciate the benefactor. Random, slapdash giving helps no one.” He looked at Wolf earnestly. “Uncle Eric saw this flaw in Father. He knew that money wasn’t safe with him. So he left me in charge of it all, knowing also that I would look after the personal needs of everyone in the family, including Father…especially Father. No one would ever lack for anything. Today, if Father wants a luxury yacht or a jet for
himself
, I would purchase it in a wink. Anything he cares to have. But he cannot be allowed to splurge arbitrarily on faceless strangers.”

“And yet you helped him become the President, and a trustee of so many institutions that our family supports.”

“He’s the best and deserves to be there. That’s what he’s so good at. Let him ask for money, any amount of it, to build new charitable trusts and institutions and I’ll never say no. If he wants to build new churches, he’ll have all the financial backing he wants. But anonymous handouts are no good.”

The champagne was untouched and getting warm. So was the lime juice. The waiters and the maître d’hôtel watched discreetly, but of course no one dared to point it out.

“There is something more that’s haunting you, I can see,” Art said.

Wolf looked up startled.

“Ask,” Art said. “Let there be no secrets between us. We…the two of us…have to keep the family together, especially now when the rest of them are in such darkness. So what’s it that’s still causing you concern?”

But Wolf couldn’t.

“Alright then, let me spell it out for you,” Art stepped in. “You want to ask about Rochelle and me. Is that true?”

Wolf stared incredulously.

“No, I don’t mind it at all…not from you. You have the right to know...everything.” He looked at the champagne for a second. “It was a mistake from the very beginning. We were two very different people; we should’ve never gotten together in the first place. But I made a mistake and I’ll have to live with it all my life.”

“Why don’t you rectify it? Why don’t you let her go and the two of you can move on and start afresh with a clean slate.”

Art shook his head vehemently. “You want me to go against the most fundamental tenets of our faith? Even to think along those lines is a sin.”

“But she wants a divorce.”

“And I can never commit that sin. I’d rather be dead.” There was something very ominous to Art suddenly.

“But she’s going to leave you and Butcher Garden soon notwithstanding. Surely you can’t stop her. She is an adult and we live in a free world.”

“Like I said, I’d rather be dead than allow that,” he said. His eyes had gone flat and cold as a snake’s. “Our faith comes first…above
anything
else, above
any
other consideration. Our human lives are inconsequential before our faith and its principles.”

Wolf shivered.

There was a long, frosty, tense silence.

Then Art looked up. And he smiled. “Why are we spoiling this beautiful evening with depressing thoughts?”

Wolf looked back at his brother. Art’s face was human once more. Wolf felt an abrupt surge of impudence.

“Doesn’t it bother you that Rochelle cannot bear you a child?”

For just the briefest of second, Art’s eyes darted. Then he smiled sadly.

“That’s not her fault. That’s the Lord’s will,” he said, staring absently at the sparkly-going-flat before him.

Wolf’s sudden pluck continued. “But surely you would want a child of your own? You can never feel complete…”

“I
have
a child of my own,” Art cut in. “Perhaps we should now get on with the business for which this place is meant?” And he laughed.

They toasted each other. “There is one more thing I want to tell you,” Art said. “I’ve decided that once I win custody of Robin, I shall hand her over to you. I want you to bring her up as your daughter.”

The glass almost dropped from Wolf’s hand.

“You have made the biggest sacrifice for the sake of the family,” Art added. “The least I can do is to give you the one thing that is most important to you in life.”

Wolf hastily kept the glass down. He steadied himself. “But
you
are the father,” he mumbled.

“Only biologically. But you are the real father. We all know that. No one can bring the little girl up better than you. You have so much love and caring to give her. And we also know how much she loves you. For her sake, it is best that you be her father.”

Wolf knew his heart had stopped beating. At least he couldn’t feel it. After a while, he rose to his feet, went over and hugged his brother tight, even as the rest of the room watched with quiet amazement.

***

Grant
was staggered.

Wolf and Art had become inseparable. Two brothers who rediscovering each other had embraced the other unreservedly. Wolf went to Art’s office every day now—from morning to evening (on the top floor of the fifty-two story Butcher House, the Butcher Organization headquarters). They ate together, strolled the big garden in the late evenings together, chatted incessantly… Inseparable.

Under standard circumstances this development would have delighted Grant no end. Where in today’s self-centered world such amazing bonding even between members of family? But these weren’t normal circumstances. Grant understood exactly what was going on here—Wolf had quietly ganged up with Art to snatch Savannah’s child from her. The resoluteness with which Wolf had turned against Savannah stunned Grant. Yes, he realized Wolf was deeply upset by her assault on Grant. But she had been contrite from the bottom of her heart and Wolf was aware of that too.

Tuesday, July 1st, the eve of the hearing.

Although Grant had held his oar until now, hoping Wolf would get over his anger in time, it hadn’t happened. In fact, Grant had come to know that Wolf was to be one of Art’s prime witness, and Grant knew only too well that Wolf’s testimony could destroy any chances Savannah might have.

That evening, he finally knocked on Wolf’s door.

They settled down opposite each other in the seating section.

“The trial begins tomorrow,” Grant said.

Wolf listened, his face impassive.

“I have never asked you for anything in my life, son,” he said. “Today, I ask you one small favor.” He looked at Wolf intently, who again didn’t say anything. “I request you to go back to Savannah and help her with the trial. She is alone and needs you by her side.”

Wolf looked away. “That I cannot do, sir.”

“Why not?”

“You know the reasons.”

“
I
was the wronged party here. If I have forgiven her, why cannot you?”

His face turned cold. “I just can’t, sir.”

“Rochelle has forgiven her. So has Madonna. All the people that count have found it in them to put the matter to rest. But you cannot?” He was visibly upset.

“Ask anything else, sir. But please don’t ask me something I simply can’t give.”

“Think of Robin then. Think of the infinite distress all this will cause her. After a lifetime of struggle, she has finally found some happiness. Do not destroy that, son.”

“She’s not really happy with Savannah. In fact, she feels suffocated.”

“How do you know that? Please do not make wild allegations.”

“I talked to her on the phone the other day.”

“It is temporary. Savannah is under a lot of stress. She is also very protective of her daughter. But it shall pass once this trial is over. Right now, she needs your support. You have always said you love her more than anything…more than your own self—your very words. You have stood by her through thick and thin, you have defied the world for her. You cannot desert her now.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Wolf said quietly.

Grant regarded the boy he loved more than life. But Grant knew he was looking at a stranger today. Wolf had changed and Grant didn’t recognize him. He had broken up with Savannah in the past too. But his hurt and anger were so apparent then, Grant could see right into his soul. What he was seeing now, however, was an indifferent, cold-blooded alien.