The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY Read Online Free PDF Page B

within was Robin. She was kneeling on the ground, clutching her right wrist and weeping softly, and Sister Toynette saw drops of blood. Oh, the girl has cut herself a bit, Sister Toynette thought, exhaling relief.
    “You’re alright, girl, you’re alright. It’s just a little scratch...don’t cry now, you’re such a brave girl,” she said, going down on her haunches beside Robin and inspecting the wound.
    Then her eyes fell on something. Slithering away into the thicket on the other side was a snake. Its head was triangular, its body thick like a grown man’s forearm, and it was about five feet long. Sister Toynette shuddered, for she had immediately recognized the creature. It was a Rattler, one of the deadliest snakes in the world. Only last week, a local herpetological group had given a lecture-demonstration at the Home and the information was still vivid in Sister Toynette’s head. Her chest cramped with fear. Although not many types of snakes are found on the islands of the north Pacific, New Halcyon was an exception. Being home to the Western Wall, one of the world’s most wholesome natural habitat, it has a fair variety of these reptiles, many of them venomous.
    She stared at the two clear fang marks on Robin’s wrist, blood trickling out of them. The forearm had begun to swell and the adjoining flesh had started to go a dirty red. Without anymore thought, Sister Toynette hauled the girl into her arms and was dashing out of the bush and toward one of the buildings that had the in-house infirmary. She began to utter a silent prayer, even as her pace automatically increased, oblivious to the great agitation of the kids following her, aware only of the great thudding of her heart. She glanced down at Robin and saw that the girl had stopped crying; her eyes were shut tight and her face was contorted in a deep frown. We have to save her...oh, Lord Jesus, mercy! Sister Toynette kept entreating. Nonetheless, she knew that the chances of the girl making it were slight. As they neared the building, Sister Toynette began shrieking for help.
    ***
Saturday, September 29, 2007...
     
    THIS was Wolf Butcher’s first public appearance since the great Butcher tragedy and President Grant Butcher was an anxious man. He covertly glanced at the young man sitting beside him in the Toyota sedan. Wolf seemed calm on the outside, but Grant knew what hurricanes still swirled inside of him, and Grant himself hurt as a result. It had been over a year and a half since the deaths, yet Wolf’s wounds simply refused to heal.
    On his part, Grant missed Sage the most. The young man had been more than a son to him. At first, Sage had joined his father, Eric, in business, but in time had realized that commerce wasn’t his brew after all, and he had quit, to sign-up with Grant. That had been four years before the tragedy, and ever since, Sage had been Grant’s right-hand man, taking care of his office, helping him win the Presidential elections. Grant now glanced at his son, Art, sitting passively in the front seat next to the chauffeur. Oddly, Art had taken strongly after Eric. What Grant and Sage had shared, Eric and Art shared—the same vision in life, the same likes and dislikes, the same principles... Both Eric and Art were hardcore businessmen, and although they swore by honesty, there was always an escape clause, called ‘Being Practical’, that excused almost any practice. This was something not acceptable to Grant, but he never interfered. It wasn’t his place to...not unless any law was clearly violated.
    The catastrophe had been an unspeakable disaster for the remainder of the Butcher family. For Grant, it had been a nightmare coping with his own grief, while taking care of his brother’s son. Wolf had gone into complete shock, then had turned suicidal, then had become a vegetable, and Grant had been truly scared. He had taken the lad under his care, been his constant companion, and somehow kept him breathing. Just