When the Butterflies Came

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  “I knew Grammy Claire’s will seemed wrong!”

  “A fake,” Riley repeats, shaking her head. “Keep reading!”

  The “Pinks” are migrating to a different island, Tara. As though instinctively knowing their numbers are dwindling. The nipwisipwis are a true phenomenon. An absolute miracle. Each species has a particular chemical makeup or gene. I’ve been trying to isolate it and learn more about how it works. You’ll probably discover each butterfly’s individual *magic* after you’ve spent more time with them.

  I think about the soft angelic music I hear each time the purple nipwisipwis comes near or lights on my finger. I wasn’t imagining it. I’m not going crazy.

  Once you get to the bank and open the box that this key fits, you will see that I’ve left you and Riley and your mamma everything. My life’s work. My money. Your grandfather’s inheritance. Everything.

  I hope you’ll search deep within your heart and that over the next few years you will find the right scientists and chemists and biologists to help you save the nipwisipwis. Scientists who will love them as I do — as you do. Learn why they live here on Chuuk, and how they can help the people of the world. Without being destroyed. Or used to line the pockets of greedy, evil persons.

  Someone has been watching me. I feel their presence everywhere I go now. There is danger. PLEASE be careful. For your sake and for my beloved creatures.

  Until you can get to the island where the Giant Pinks are fleeing to, I want you to move out of the tree house and go live with Eloni’s tribe. They will keep you safe. The nipwisipwis have been protecting them for centuries — and blessing them in remarkable ways. I suspect that you may already have figured that out, Tara. I’ve always been aware of your intellectual capabilities. And I know that deep down, you have a good heart. Life has dealt you blows. Don’t let it harden you. Don’t allow it to make you unkind or ungenerous.

  Tears start rolling down my face. I think about this last school year and the broken pier. The kids at school. Shelby Jayne Allemond and Larissa from the antique store. All the terrible things I did to them and to other kids. Because I’m a seventh-generation Doucet and thought I was the most important girl in town.

  Then I remember the letter I wrote to Miz Mirage and Shelby Jayne, pleading for their help with Mamma. My heart twists inside my chest, pricking my conscience. I want to be a better person. A better sister, a better daughter, and a better friend.

  “Mamma,” I whisper. “We have to bring Mamma here.”

  Riley’s suddenly wiping her eyes, too. “It’s getting dark. Wonder if the bank is still open.”

  “We’ll have to go tomorrow. Tonight we need to sleep together in Grammy Claire’s room. Lock the door until we can get to the bank and get the right will.”

  Riley shakes her head. “I don’t think we should stay at the tree house, even if we do lock the doors. Whoever is out to get the butterflies and Grammy’s research knows we’re here. They’ve probably been watching us since we arrived.”

  I start shivering. “Do you think they’ll try to hurt us, too?”

  Riley gazes at me and bites her lips. “They already did. When I fell down the stairs. When they shot at us, at you.”

  I’m suddenly very, very cold and very, very afraid. “They’ll try again, won’t they? They might be on their way this very minute.”

  A terrible urgency fills the air. “We gotta get out of here,” Riley says, and we both stand at the same moment.

  Quickly, I lock the papers up inside the chest again and pull my clothes on over my wet swimsuit. Clutching the treasure chest, I crawl my way out of the beautiful cavern behind Riley.

  The sun is low on the horizon, but it’s barely dusk. The air is hazy. Waves are whispering along the shore. Riley and I barely take two steps toward the dune buggy when I hear someone breathing behind me.

  I whirl around as footsteps race toward me. Suddenly, I’m tackled from behind and flung to the ground.

  Just like the butterfly, I too will awaken in my own time….

  ~DEBORAH CHASKIN~

  The treasure chest launches out of my arms and I get a mouthful of sand. Then someone huge and strong reaches around and claps their hand across my mouth. A whiff of cologne and sweat mingle together, but it’s faint and I can’t place it.

  “Let me go!” I yelp, squirming as sand crawls up my swimsuit. And I am not a girl who enjoys itchy, pebbly sand up her bathing suit. Even if I am currently on the beach.

  Somewhere to my left, Riley screams like a maniac, but I can’t see her. Whoever has me in the armlock sticks a knee into my back, and I can’t even twist my head. Across the water, the sinking sun burns a hole right into my eyes.

  I hear kicking, grunts, then more yelling. Is Riley still wearing her combat boots? I can’t remember, but I hope so. And I hope she kicks and slams everyone in sight. Tears start leaking out my eyes. Mostly, I hope she’s okay. The hands holding me are strong, muscular. It hurts, and I suddenly worry that Tafko has me in his grip. Don’t people who play things like guitars and banjos have strong fingers?

  I lie still for a moment, catching my breath while male voices mumble overhead. I try to flip my body over, but I feel as helpless as a bug, my arms and legs flailing stupidly. “Get off me!”

  Nobody answers. I don’t think they care that they’re hurting me. I try to calm down and listen to see if I recognize their voices, but my heart is pounding too hard. Then I realize that they must have masks over their mouths because their voices are so muffled, the words brief, clipped.

  “Rope.”

  “No. Grotto.”

  “You mean drown?”

  “Hmm … might be easiest.”

  “… found Claire’s hidden chest. Look like they drowned getting it.”

  They’re going to drown us? If there is any method of dying that terrifies me, it’s drowning.

  Think. Think!

  Even though Grammy Claire had said in her last letter that I was smart, my brain is muddled. I’m panicked, petrified. And where is the treasure chest? I’m supposed to guard it with my life! Grammy Claire died for the nipwisipwis. Surely I can fight for them!

  Instead of lying motionless under somebody’s foot, I start screaming and clawing, trying to get out from under him. Riley must have the same idea because I suddenly hear her fighting somewhere across the sand.

  It doesn’t take long before I’m exhausted, but all at once I realize that the air is filled with shouting voices. Not just mine and my sister’s but other people’s.

  I swear I hear drums. The pounding of feet — or is it the surf? Enemies or friends? I pray Butler Reginald has come to our rescue! He’s tall and big and I’ll bet that even though he’s our butler/nanny, he’s secretly got a black belt in karate. If I could just get two seconds to run for the tree house, Butler Reginald can call the island police. We can lock the doors and fend off these evil people. I picture him brandishing a sword. No, a gun.

  I think I’m hallucinating.

  My head hurts. Strangely, my teeth do, too. I think I slammed my mouth together when I was knocked down. My arms and legs and wrists are aching, and I’m trying not to cry.

  The next second, someone flips me onto my back. The world tilts. I spit out sand and drool dribbles down my mouth. I try to look for Riley but can’t move. Someone has my arms and legs pinned.

  In the deepening twilight, a big man looms over me, kneels down, and grabs my jaw in his fist. “Give me the key!”

  I stare at him and begin to choke. Literally. I can’t breathe. I’m going to die. Not because they’re going to kill me but because I’m in shock.

  Still clenching my face in his hands, he orders, “Shoot off the lock. Don’t have time to waste. There should be formulas in there, everything we need. And a map to the island where the Giant Pinks are going. There should also be another key. To Claire’s new security box. The one she hid from me.”

  I hear a shot and the ringing deafens me. Feels like my hearing got blaste
d. A moment later, it clears and I hear another voice. A voice I know well. “Got it open. Documents are all here.”

  A whimper rises in my throat. They’ve got Grammy Claire’s secrets!

  Two large shadows hold Riley to the ground. And two more hold me down. My sister is cursing up a storm. Calling them every name in the book — some I’ve never heard before.

  The man barks out four names I don’t recognize. “Take them back into the grotto and hold them under the water. After they sink to the bottom, nobody will find them for months. I can see the headline now: ‘Sisters accidentally drown while on vacation — in a spot they should never have been swimming.’”

  He gives a harsh laugh and his face looms over me. Tears spill down my cheeks, and I fight to hold them back.

  The English accent is as warm and beautiful as ever.

  He was the man who was supposed to save us.

  The man Grammy Claire told me I could trust.

  I try to lift my chin and spit at him, but only manage to drip more drool.

  Butler Reginald just laughs. “Take them to the grotto — and make it fast!”

  “Wait, wait!” I hear Riley desperately yell. “You have the treasure chest. What more do you want?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? Claire Chaisson’s granddaughters need to be out of the picture. With you both dead, and your mother safely put away in an institution, the research, the butterfly potion, and the money all belong to me.”

  “What don’t I get?” Riley flings back, and she sounds so unafraid I can’t help being impressed. “That you’re a kidnapper, a thief, a liar — a murderer?”

  Butler Reginald’s voice is full of disdain. “Such is life when those Giant Pinks are worth billions.”

  My throat burns as I try to swallow. “You’re going to kill them all?” The most beautiful butterfly I’ve ever seen is going to be … gone … forever?

  “Killing them is the fastest way to harvest the chemical compound they possess,” he says. “Claire figured it out just a few months ago — as I served her iced tea and watched from the polite silence of lawyerly butler-hood. We’ll keep a few for reproduction, but it will be in a carefully controlled and monitored environment. Back in the States. Not out here on this godforsaken island where supplies are nonexistent. Your grandmother was an idiot when it came to true laboratory methods. We could have multiplied the Giant Pinks ten times by now, but she wanted to go slow. Retest over and over again. Stupid, sympathetic women scientists!”

  My blood starts to boil. “Yeah,” I say sarcastically. “Men who murder and steal make better scientists!”

  Riley yells encouragement. “You tell him, Tara!”

  Instead, I get a slap across the mouth for my insolence. It stings so bad, I’m really crying now.

  The men lift me up by my arms and legs and start dragging me back to the grotto. Their faces are dark, unfamiliar shapes in the hour after sunset. As we lurch over the rocks, it feels like they’re pulling me apart. My entire body aches and my eyes are swimming with terror. They’re really going to drown us!

  “Let me go!” I scream. “Help! Help!” I yell over and over again, but all I can hear are the waves rushing in and out. Even though we’re miles from Eloni’s village, I keep screaming. Riley screams along with me in the slim chance somebody might be out there to hear us. Unfortunately, all the dive boats came in for the night long ago.

  I don’t recognize Tafko, but I think one of the men holding me might be Mr. Masako from the bank. I want to spit at him, too. Anger bubbles up over his pretended sympathy the day I went there. He’s also one of the fake witnesses to Grammy Claire’s “new” will.

  Just as my head is shoved under the rock overhang, I hear the sound of drums again. Is the sound coming from one of the nipwisipwis species? Like the purple butterfly who creates music?

  The grotto is dark now, but the men have flashlights, the beams bouncing off the rock formations. I hear the gurgle of water, smell the salt. I can picture the crystal-clear pool just two feet away from me. And I start shivering uncontrollably. How long can I hold my breath?

  “Hold their heads under,” Butler Reginald orders. “But hang on to them so they don’t get away.”

  They hold me over the ledge and plunge me into the water, still gripping my arms and legs, even though I’m thrashing like a maniac.

  Riley screams, “Taraaaaaaaaaa!”

  Her voice is instantly muffled as a hand roughly shoves my head under the water. I never get a chance to take a decent breath. Almost immediately, bubbles escape my nose. After twenty more seconds, my eyes bulge, trying to see in the dark water, staring up at the cavern roof. Beams of light flash here and there, squiggly and hazy.

  I’m losing air; it’s growing darker. The heavy male hands keep pushing at me as I try to reach for Riley, but they’re holding me so tightly, it’s impossible to touch her. I can feel her legs flailing, the water moving next to me. Desperately, I try to reach for her fingers, a foot, anything. If I’m going to drown I want to at least drown in my sister’s arms.

  Now I’m bursting. I truly am drowning. My lungs are on fire. I’m going to die! Die!

  “Grammy Claire!” I scream as my mouth finally opens and salt water rushes in.

  Then, suddenly, the men’s arms release me, and I’m floating away.

  My legs and arms feel dead, heavy. I can’t move, can’t swim.

  I start to sink.

  A second later, Riley’s hand catches mine. She’s pulling me up, toward the lights, which are bright as day now. Where did they come from? Am I in heaven? But why am I still underwater if I’m floating toward heaven?

  My head breaks the surface of the lagoon, the fog clears, water streams out of my nose and mouth. My throat is burning, my lungs have collapsed, but I start to cough.

  And then I hear the strangest sound of all. My mamma is screaming my name. “Tara! Riley! I’m here! I’m here! Get my babies out of that water!”

  I choke on the sting of salt water. I must be dreaming. My mamma is thousands of miles away. Maybe I really am hallucinating. Maybe this is what it’s like to drown. I’m seeing my life flash before my eyes.

  As I keep coughing, I never realized how truly horrible and nasty it is to swallow seawater. It’s coming out of my nose and my eyes, and I’m gagging it up. And yet I’m above water, even though the grotto rock ledge seems a mile away. I can’t swim the distance. It’s impossible. My arms and legs feel like dead weights; I can’t get them to move.

  As my ears and eyes clear, I finally realize, in the noise and flashing lights, that the grotto is filled with Chuuk Island Police. Every one of them is holding a gun in their hand. Both hands. In a stance, and ready to fire. I shiver when I see that all those guns are trained on Butler Reginald and Mr. Masako and the other men I don’t even recognize. Are they members of Eloni’s family? I have no idea.

  Riley yells in my ear, pulling at me. “I got you, Tara, I got you! Swim already, swim!”

  For the first time in my life, I obey her and manage to pull myself through the water. Arms reach out and lift me up, scraping my legs along the rock ledge. Finally, I’m hanging on to the ledge on my own, still coughing and spluttering.

  I see Eloni. And Tafko, his brother. And his cousins and uncles. And I can smell the scent of barbecued pig filling the grotto. Eloni had rounded up his family and they’d come looking for us. He knew I’d planned to come here to the Butterfly Lagoon.

  Before I can comprehend anything else, I let out a gasp. My heart pounds so fast, I think I’m gonna faint dead away.

  On the outskirts of the police and Eloni’s crowd of family, I see a small woman with dark hair and sturdy black shoes. Madame See.

  Straining my burning eyes through the haze of flashing lights, I want to have the satisfaction of seeing the woman handcuffed and hauled away. Instead, my mamma drops to her knees in front of me like an angel. She’s scooping me up in her arms, kissing my forehead, smoothing back my tangled, salty hair. �
��Are you real?” I whimper, grabbing at her.

  “Yes, Tara, I’m here, I’m really here.” She kisses me again and holds me tight against her.

  “Where’s Riley?” I croak, my throat swollen from the salt and screaming.

  “Shh, Tara, she’s right here,” Mamma whispers. “Don’t talk no more. You’re gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay now.”

  Turns out, Riley’s been sitting next to me the whole time. She crawls over and throws her arms around me. We’re both drenched, salty, a mess, and have sick all over us, but I hang on tight. And then I start to cry real hard. As hard as I did the day Grammy Claire was killed in the car accident. I think I’m more terrified now that it’s over. Riley and me were drowning. We were really going to die. I realize that I almost never saw my mamma again.

  “We got Grammy Claire’s treasure chest?” I ask.

  Riley shakes her head. “Don’t know where it ended up, but we’ll find it, Tara. Now hush up before they take you to the hospital and stick some tubes down your throat.”

  I close my mouth, but it’s okay because all three of us keep holding on to each other. In the distance, I hear sirens, police shouting orders, noise and confusion as they haul several dark shadows out of the grotto.

  I stay quiet for about two seconds because I can’t quit asking questions. “Mamma, how’d you know to come out here to Grammy Claire’s Nipwisipwis Lagoon?”

  Under the flickering torches, I see her smile. “I got a letter from your Grammy Claire.”

  * * *

  Dawn is brushing pink strokes across the sky when I wake up to the sounds of rustling the next morning. I yawn and roll over, trying to figure out where the noises are coming from.

  Mamma and Riley and I stayed up half the night talking and talking and talking. Long after midnight, Riley finally crawled off to her own bedroom and Mamma crawled in with me, sharing Grammy Claire’s big bed. I slept hard and deep, better than I had in three weeks.