by Liss Thomas
“We need to change back now,” is all he allows himself to say. Still clutching each other, the blue light envelopes us. I feel our limbs pulling apart until we are once again butterflies. We fly up into a nearby tree and rest. The hours have taken their toll on both of us, and we are feeling it now. Charlie watches as I rest beside him. We feel exhausted but we don’t want to miss a touch, a look, a sound. Finally, unable to stay awake any longer, he falls asleep beside me. I close my eyes and follow soon after.
Chapter 3
I wake up sluggish as I guessed I would. Charlie brings me nectar and I drink from him the nourishing liquid until I feel better. He coaxes me out of the tree and into the sun to gain strength and warmth. Soon, energy begins to fill my body and I can fly again. Charlie leads me straight back to the cemetery. We drink from the flowers in silence then nestle into a cozy spot to wait. I’m not scared of dying; I know it is coming soon.
“Charlie,” I say through a tired yawn. “Who are you really?”
“I’m the monster under your bed. Most kids have them but most overcome their fear and we leave. You were never afraid of me. I should have left years ago but I stayed and tried to keep you company when you needed it most. I don’t really look like a butterfly; I’m actually quite hideous,” Charlie says.
I laugh my little insect laugh, then sigh, closing my eyes.
“No, not yet, please don’t go,” Charlie whispers in a panic, leaning his head against mine.
I struggle to open my eyes. “I’m still here.”
Charlie blows out a shuddering breath that warms my face. “Do you have any regrets?” he asks.
I let my eyes close again as I answer. “I have two. I wish I would have met you sooner.” I feel his antennae caressing my face. “And I wish I could say goodbye to my mother,” I finish on a small sob. I feel warmth on my face and sense a small light glowing.
“Tell her now, Missy. Say your goodbyes. She will hear you. It’s my final gift to you,” he says.
I want to cry but I keep my voice soft and even. “Mom, I love you. I love you so much. I’m ok now, it’s ok to let me go,” I say. I hear her voice in my head; she hears me. I sense the light fading and know the link is gone. “She heard me, thank you.” I feel truly peaceful. “I have to go now. I’ll always love you, Charlie,” I say, as I feel myself slipping away.
“I’ll always love you too, Missy,” was the last thing I heard him say.
I’m not ashamed to let tears fill my eyes and roll down my face. I didn’t want my time with Missy to end. I glance at her again; she looks asleep and at peace. I make myself believe it. It is difficult for me, but I force myself to stay alive until the right time. Two days pass. I eat from the flowers around me and sun only when the sunlight touches my wings. Then I see the procession of cars. It’s a small and intimate gathering of humans. I watch the odd ritual and wait until the box is lowered and covered with dirt and flowers. I smile to myself when I see the large tulips being placed on the grave. I only venture closer when the humans leave. I carry my beloved Missy to the site and lay her in one of the tulips and then I lay down beside her.
“I’m glad we played,” I whisper as I close my eyes, wanting to join my precious human in death. The shimmering blue light rises inside the tulip and I hear the voice of my father.
“I’m here, son. Come home to us.” I don’t respond because it can’t be real. I want death to claim me. I feel the warmth and comfort of the shimmering blue light as it encases me. My consciousness slips away as the blue light fades, leaving the tulip empty.
PART TWO
THE MONSTER
Chapter 4
I should be dead. I’m afraid to open my eyes just in case I am. The surface I am lying on feels soft like a bed but how can that be? I stir and hear the rustle of coverlets. I clinch my hands and feel the soft blanket covering my body. It has all the familiar feelings of home but it can’t be true. I venture a tentative look. The room is dark and only small slivers of light escape the heavy drapes covering the windows. The stone walls come into focus, my room. A familiar hand soothes my brow, and I hear a voice beside the bed.
“Wake up, my son.”
I instantly recognize the voice of my mother. “Mother, where am I?”
“You’re home.” She continues to rub my brow, hair, and arms. She leans forward and I see her face for the first time in a long while. She smiles but her face is pinched in concern. Her large, gray eyes are moist from crying but she is still beautiful. I’ve really missed her face. She kisses my forehead and embraces me. I want to ask her why I am not dead, but a figure standing near the door interrupts my thoughts.
“Mother, leave us now. I need to speak to our son alone.”
I hear the disapproving voice of my father. I cling to my mother’s hand in an attempt to get her to stay. She kisses me again and pats my arm for reassurance before she obeys my father and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
My father is slow in his approach to my bedside. His features remain hidden in the dimness of the room so I am unable to read his face. “You should have come to us, son. You broke the rules.” He is pacing at the foot of the bed now. His hands wring the end of his tunic in a nervous gesture I’ve seen dozens of times.
“I know, father. I’m sorry.” Something in his voice tells me he is not as angry as he should be. I try to push myself into a sitting position. My muscles protest and strain against my efforts. Father rushes in and stops me.
“No, you are not well enough. Don’t try to sit up.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. He rocks me like a child and strokes my back.
“Why am I not dead?” I ask, my voice muffled against his strong shoulder, for I should be dead. Father is silent for several minutes before he speaks, his voice barely a whisper.
“If your mother and I had not found you in time you would be dead. You broke the rules, son. You should have let the human child die. Why didn’t you come to us for help?”
My father’s words seep through the fog in my brain. They are like a faint flutter that keeps getting louder and louder. Finally, the meaning rings clear but they can’t be true. “Father, Missy is dead. My human is dead.”
“Your human lives because you live, son.”
I pull back from him and stare. “Father, I watched her die. I held her for two days in the cemetery until her human body arrived. I carried her … ” I break off in a choked sob. The pain of losing her is heavy, restricting my breath. I gulp air as if I’m drowning. Father tries to calm me. He lays me back on my pillow and wipes the hair and tears from my eyes.
“Listen to me, son. When you touched the human child, she became bound to you forever. In the human realm she was stronger because of your strength. Now, because you are back in our world, your power and strength are limited. You are only as strong as she is.”
“Father, I need to see her! She’ll be scared! I need to tell her it’s ok.”
“She is being kept in sleep for now. Once you are rested and feeling stronger, I will take you to her. Please rest now and we’ll talk later.” Father takes a cup from the side table and helps me drink its contents. The thick liquid taste bitter and is probably medicinal. I finish the contents without complaint and drift off to sleep even before father lays me back down. I feel his hand squeeze mine before I tumble down into sleep.
Chapter 5
I lie awake in bed remembering her. I go to sleep and I dream about her. I drive my parents nuts every day asking about her. They seem relieved when I am able to get out of bed but are reluctant to let me venture out of my room to see her. I sit on my bed as mother grooms my matted hair. She cuts out the tangles and brushes me until the hair is smooth again.
“Mother, when can I see her?” I am anxious to see Missy. She will be so happy once she wakes up.
“Soon enough. Now, let me trim your horns.” She continues to groom as I continue my excited chatter. I want to know all that has happened since I went on my first assig
nment under Missy’s bed. Time stops for me when I’m in the human realm. I’d been with Missy most of her life but to my parents, it seems but an instant. Mother fields my questions as best she can then quickly finishes up, kissing my temple before leaving the room instructing me to stay. I pace, knowing father will arrive soon and explain matters to me. I don’t have to wait long. He enters my room a few minutes later and motions for me to sit. He takes up my pacing as I watch in silence until he is ready to speak.
“Did your human give you a name?” he asks first.
“Yes, she named me Charlie.” I am proud of my new name. I wonder if father will approve.
“She was never afraid of you, was she? She named you as she would a friend and not like a monster at all.”
“I think she was afraid when she was very young, but not for long. She needed a companion and I was it.” I think back through the years to our brief exchanges and how much they must have meant to both of us. How I cherished the sound of her voice and her usual response. I remember the feelings when she didn’t respond. A lump rises in my throat and an uncontrolled shudder ripples through my body.
“Charlie, the penalty for breaking the rules is why you are weak. Once you touched the human girl, you were bound to her for life. Your strength is now tied to her strength. Bound to a human, you are now as weak as one and limited in abilities. If you were bound to another monster, your strength would have doubled. There is, however, a way for you to regain your strength but it is up to her now. Go to her, Charlie, and wake her. Your energy may increase once she is awake. We can then make plans to return you to normal. Your mother will explain the tasks to the girl.”
I nod my understanding, although vague. Father leads me to the door and opens it for me. As I take a step into the hallway, I feel the sluggishness in my muscles again. Father aids me to a room two doors down from mine. Before I enter, I turn back to him.
“How do I wake her?”
“She will awaken with your presence. Do not try to conceal your true form from her, you are too weak for that, and she needs to see you for what you truly are,” he says.
I nod. I feel nervous now and scared she may reject me for what I am, a monster. My father reads my hesitance and offers me a pat on the shoulder.
“Trust your friendship, Charlie. Go on.”
My shaking hand has trouble gripping the handle, but I finally manage to get inside. There is a chair by the door and I sit as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Missy’s room is similar to my own. The stone walls keep the room quiet. Tapestries hang behind her bed and near the window. Over her bed hangs a sheer white canopy and the heavy drapes on the window keep out light. Then I hear the light rustle of her bedding. Missy stirs fitfully as she becomes more awake at my presence. I feel her apprehension before she voices it.
“Don’t be afraid, Missy, you’re safe.”
She is motionless for a second then she says, “Charlie!” through a sigh of extreme relief. “Where are we, are we dead now?”
“We are alive, Missy.”
“How?”
“My parents found us and brought us back to my world. I woke up a few days ago, but I was as shocked as you are.”
“Come to me, Charlie.”
Her plea increases my fear. “I’m a monster, Missy. I don’t want to frighten you. I’m not a butterfly or a human; I’m … I’m ugly.”
“Please come to me.” She reaches out her hand to me, and I have to go to her. Leaving my chair, I slowly make my way to her bedside. She pats the bed and I sit, still hidden in the darkness of the room. She reaches for me again and I give her my hand. She holds my hand with both of hers, caressing it tenderly. “I’m not afraid of you,” she says as her hands roam up my arms and over my tunic. Her hands find the hair surrounding my face and she runs her fingers through it.
“Your hair is thick and course but not matted or tangled.”
“Thank my mother for that. She brushed me for an hour this morning.”
Missy laughs at this. She then pulls her hands away from my chest and tries to push herself up into a sitting position. I immediately stop her.
“No, don’t try to move much. You will need more rest.” I cover her again with the blankets, much as my father did to me.
Her hands search out for me again. Now that I am closer, they seek out my face. I close my eyes and lead her hands to my hairy cheeks. Her small fingers tickle as they brush over my snout. She pulls my face closer and continues to probe. She touches my brow and runs her fingers lightly across my lips. She tugs lightly on the hairs on my chin and chuckles. Missy’s little fingers then find their way to my ears and horns. She rubs my lobes between two fingers and I make a small snort of delight.
“I guess you like that,” she says with a smile in her voice. “Pull the curtains, Charlie, I want to see you.” I pull her hands from my ears and kiss her as tenderly as I can. Reluctance again slows my movements but I cannot deny her. I move toward the curtains and with my back to her, I pull them apart to let in the daylight. I stare out at nothing in particular for several minutes. Her patient silence encourages me to turn around. I lower my head and slowly turn to face her. She doesn’t gasp or make any sound at all. I raise my head to meet her gaze. Her perfect smile is waiting for me, and her arms are outstretched toward me. I walk back to her and sit on the bed again. She wordlessly moves her hands to my face and runs her fingers through the hair surrounding it.
“Hold me, Charlie,” she whispers. I pull her to my chest with great care and hold my human. I stroke her back and run my fingers through her hair. She starts to cry softly, making me damp with her tears.
“You are not a monster, Charlie, and you will never be ugly to me. I will always love you.” I nuzzle her softly with my nose and inhale the scent of her. “Besides,” she continues, “I always thought yaks were cute.”
I pull back from her and frown. “I’m a bull,” I say as I see the smile in her eyes spread across her face.
“I know,” she laughs.
I lay her back down and tuck her in again. “You need to rest now, my love.” I get up from the bed and pull the drapes closed again.
“Stay with me, Charlie.” I hear her soft voice from across the room. I retrieve the chair and sit beside her bed. I hold her hand, and within minutes, she is asleep again. I smile as I watch my human sleep. I watch for hours. I will watch her forever.
Chapter 6
Mother finds me asleep in Missy’s room close to midnight. I am still holding her hand when Mother wakes me and sends me away to rest. I protest in hushed tones until I find myself in the hallway. Our living quarters are dark. I make my way to my room and lie down. My mind cannot shut off as I remember my human’s touch, smell, and smile. So many questions cloud my brain until I cannot contain them all. Breaking into laughter, I jump from my bed, and whirl around my room with nervous energy. I cannot sleep now. I creep from my room and down toward the cooking fires. The room is warm and filled with the scent of roasting game. A young, mouse-like servant sees me enter and points to an empty table near the fire. He quickly cuts large slabs of meat from the carcass and sets it before me with a large loaf of warm bread and a drink. The rest of the room’s occupants are obviously hunters. I watch as they skin their kill and present them to the head cook. The old bull examines each and instructs the younger ones what should be done with them. Salt this one, roast that one, the sorting continues. I eat in silence, watching the exchanges. Once my belly is full, I find that I am tired. I thank the servant and make my way back to my room. Before getting into bed, I walk toward the drapes and pull them open. The sky outside is cloudless and each star rivals their neighbor for attention. Many twinkle and blink while a few streak across the sky in a showy display of brilliance. I look at their location and realize it will be morning in a few hours. I want to wake early to visit my human again. I pull the drapes and make my way to my bed. I crawl in, smiling as I drift off.
My days with Missy are wonderful. I wake
early and we have breakfast in her room. She is fond of our fruits, and I make it a point to bring her fresh berries each morning. I laugh when she has to hold one with both hands to take a bite. Smiling as the juices drip down her chin, she tells me their flavor reminds her of grapes even though they are the size of something called a football. The football didn’t sound too appealing to eat when she described it to me, so I’m glad they don’t grow in our world.
Missy is getting stronger each day and soon she will be able to explore our world. As the week comes to an end, I am hoping to take Missy on a picnic in the country so she can see my world and the wonders it has to offer. I sit in her room at the end of each day and read to her until she falls asleep.
“Read the one about the squirrels again,” she says.
I laugh since I read that one the night before as well. I begin reading as Missy prepares for bed. Mother has given her animal skins to wear to ward off the chill and the sight of her pale skin against the dark fur makes me blush. I avert my gaze and continue reading. She brushes her hair as I complete chapter one. I tuck her into bed by the end of chapter two. I start chapter three but soon she is sleeping. I continue until I reach the end. I put the book aside and sit for several hours watching her. Finally, I get up to leave, tired and ready for bed. I shut her door and run into Mother.
“How is your human this evening, Charlie?”
“Feeling stronger every day, Mother. I was thinking about taking her on a picnic tomorrow in the country. Would that be alright?”
“Perhaps, but let’s not rush any plans for tomorrow. I’ll check on her and make sure she is well enough.” Mother enters Missy’s room and closes the door behind her. I continue to my room and prepare for bed. I struggle with sleep but finally, it gives in.
I awake with a start. It is early, perhaps near dawn. Did I hear something to jar me from my fitful dreams? I listen, but hear nothing. Something woke me, I am sure of it now, but I’m unable to put my finger on it. Pulling the blankets back, I sit up. I feel something that makes me hurt inside. The sensation is new and not overpowering, but a little disturbing. I go to my bathing room and run cool water into a basin, splashing my face. The feeling is still there. Perhaps it will go away with breakfast. After washing and dressing, I make my way to the cooking fires to prepare breakfast for Missy and myself. I carry the tray of breads and fruits to her room. I knock. I knock again. Opening the door, I glance inside, ready to retreat if she is still sleeping. I panic. Missy is not in her room. Flinging open the door, I put the tray down. Her bed is made. I check the washing room which is also empty. I check my room just in case. Not there. I run to my parents’ room with my heart thrashing in my chest.
