H.E. Woodford: “The Butterfly” – Second Place – a Connect In South Valley short story
The Butterfly
By H.E. Woodford
The evening is beautiful. Lampposts glow softly and cast a cheery light along the street. The sun has just fallen beneath the distant hills, but a subtle gleam can be seen where its rays have just descended. The lively gossip of the birds has been replaced by the soothing chirp of crickets. Gilroy is quiet and peaceful tonight. I inhale, deeply breathing in a familiar scent of garlic mixed with firewood. I exhale, and a puff of cold air escapes my lips, taking with it my feelings of stress, worry, and anxiety. I am quiet and peaceful tonight. My eyelids droop and are about to close, but a sudden, fluttering flash catches my attention. I open my eyes and see a butterfly, soundlessly making its way towards my front porch. It looks like an angel as it elegantly flaps its silvery white wings. In the few seconds that I watch the butterfly, my hand begins to reach towards the collar of my shirt, and memories flood my brain. I see flashes of things I want to forget, and things I yearn to remember. Images of frosting and forests and fireflies dance around my head, but come to rest on one face. I pull out a silver chain from my collar, and all at once, I am transported to a time long, long ago, to a day that I have always remembered and will never forget.
20 years ago…
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The road is extremely long and windy, but that’s not the reason for the churning feeling in my stomach. As I roll my window down to calm my jitters, I lean outside like a dog on the freeway. A gust of fresh air slams into my face, making my cheeks pull back and my eyes water. In contrast to the warm car, the air is freezing, and it sends shivers up and down my spine. It feels great. I sniff in the air deeply, and the smell of pine is so crisp and clear that it makes my nose tingle. My hunch is correct. Only one place could smell this way. Sure enough, I see a familiar sign in the distance, and I think my heart stops for a second. The sign is one that I’ve wished to see every day since my life… well, since our lives changed forever. The words “Mt. Madonna County Park,” appear on the sign as my dad pulls to a stop.
“We’re here!” he announces. “Hop on out, birthday girl!” I slowly get out of the car, shivering from anticipation. As I take a look around, I can feel my eyes beginning to mist. So many good memories have been made here. Memories that soothe me away from the pain of today, and the fear of tomorrow. Memories that took place before my best friend…
My thoughts are interrupted by my parents, who have just joined me from the car.
“Well, we’re here!” says Dad, smiling at me proudly. I look at him blankly, because I still have no idea what the heck is going on. Mom gently touches my shoulder.
“Mia, we know how much you love and miss this place. So we thought that it would be fun…”
“If we could spend the night here at camp!” my dad interrupts, too excited to keep his calm. Wow. This is a big surprise. Not only have I not been here in forever, but I also had no idea that Mt. Madonna was taking campers at this time of year, especially with COVID. My parents quickly fill me in about how it’s allowed and safe and yada yada yada… but my mind is someplace else. As my parents notice my face drop, their enthusiastic voices fade. They look at me questionly.
“I’m sorry,” I say, blinking back tears. “This is really, really great and all, but I just… I just wish Avery could be here.”
“Oh honey, I know,” says Mom comfortingly. “Why don’t you try putting aside your worries, and focus on what’s happening here and now?”
“Okay,” I sniffle, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I take Mom’s hand in my left, my Dad’s in my other. And together, as a united trio, we walk down the trail. The winding, brown path leads us up and down and up and down, twisting this way, turning that way, left and right and back again. As we continue on, the moon rises higher and higher from the mountains. The sky has long past turned into a rosy pink, and has peacefully settled into a dark and vivid blue. Stars are splattered here and there like paint on a canvas, winking down at us from the heavens. The wind whistles merrily in the trees, and playfully tugs at my long, brown braids. I run ahead of my parents, looking up at the bright, beautiful moon and taking in all of the beauty around me.
Suddenly, in the distance, I spot a flickering light. It’s a warm, welcoming yellow, and its glow makes me curious. What on earth could it be? I look back at my parents, who smile and urge me on to follow it. I break into a jog, tripping over tree roots in my excitement to see what the mysterious light could be. I veer off the path, jump through a clearing of trees, and nearly have a heart attack.
A single figure stands right in front of me, and my first thought is of a deer, or maybe even a mountain lion. As I stand there in fear and shock, I notice that the figure looks oddly human. As I try to register what is standing before me, a familiar voice cries,
“Mia!”
Before I can think, before I can move, before I can believe, I feel arms wrap around me. And all at once, I know why my parents brought me here tonight.
As I stare into her face, the one who I’ve longed to see since the day we were separated, the one who I’ve thought of all of the time, the one who I’ve cried for every single day, I can feel my heart begin to explode with feeling. The two of us, Avery and I, melt into tears and hugs of happiness and sadness and longing and hope and the whole thing all over again. I don’t know how long we clutch each other, but all I can think is that Avery, my Avery, is with me once more. I pull apart from her only to stare at her angelic face and pull her back with me again. We hold on for a long, long time, until finally, I let go to look at her properly. Her eyes, which are pale, pale green, are still the same, as is her delicate smile. But as I look upward towards her head, I find my beam fading.
On top of Avery’s head rests a simple blue scarf. I can see no trace of hair peeking out. Only one thing could have made my beautiful Avery look like this, and I’m heartbroken that it had to happen so soon.
Chemotherapy? I raise my eyebrows at Avery to ask the unfathomable question. She nods, and before I can protest, she pulls down the scarf. I put my hand to my mouth to choke back an emerging sob. Where once used to be silvery blonde hair… hair that I was always envious of, hair that was always styled so elegantly, hair that she always fretted at and poked at and prodded at… is nothing but a head. Just a head. The baldness takes me so much by surprise that I find myself flabbergasted.
“Avery….” I find myself mumbling. “Avery, I thought…”
“No, Mia, it’s okay,” she says gently, even though it’s not okay. “Mia…” At the pleading tone in her voice, I know that she doesn’t want to talk about it. I smile bravely and swallow the lump in my throat, nodding to show that yes, I’m fine. Avery, anxious to please me, takes my hand and gives me a wooden skewer. I give a wobbly grin when I see the marshmallow placed on the end of it. And looking at her face, I decide that nothing, nothing, is going to ruin tonight. And sure enough, as soon as I sit down at the campfire, it seems as if the “unpause” button has been pressed.
We start right where we left off. Nothing has changed. Everything is fine. Roasting marshmallows, hearing their delicious sizzle as they slide, golden brown, onto the graham cracker. Telling stories, laughing so hard that our stomachs hurt and our eyes water. Making shadow puppets, coming up with hilarious names for obscure shapes. Nature hunting, following the sounds of croaking frogs and searching for the glimpse of a firefly. I hardly take notice of Avery’s headscarf, nor her tired descent to her wheelchair. None of that matters now that we’re together. Tonight, I feel normal. I feel alive, and so, so very happy. A cake is brought out from an unknown location, and after singing “Happy Birthday,” I blow out my candles, silently making a wish as everyone cheers. Presents are opened, which I receive with joy and thanks. Only when Avery begins to feel weak do we retire to bed.
“This has been a great night.” I say to Avery. We’re snuggled up in our sleeping bags, looking up at the stars through the mesh in our tent.
“Yeah,” she mumbles tiredly. “It has.”
“Thanks, Avery.”
“For what?”
“For always being there for me. Even when we couldn’t be together. Hey!” I sit up in bed, suddenly struck with a thought that I hadn’t considered. “Avery, we were able to hug tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“And share a tent, too.”
“Uh huh.”
“Aren’t we not supposed to be doing that? With COVID? With your…” I point to Avery’s head. She sits up next to me with a funny look on her face. I’m surprised to see tears in her eyes. She reaches towards my hand, and in it, she places a small box. It is a simple navy blue, with an elegant white bow tied over the top.
“Here, just open it,” she whispers. I look at her questionly for a moment, but eventually I open the box. I can hear my breath sucking in as I see what’s inside.
It’s a necklace, but it’s unlike one I’ve ever seen before. A beautiful, almost iridescent butterfly sits perfectly against a silver chain. The butterfly itself is the same color as the chain, and it’s wings are a deep, silvery white. Around the butterfly are little diamonds that sparkle when I hold them up to the moonlight.
“Oh Avery,” I breathe. “How did you…”
“Mia, read the bottom,” she interrupts.
“The Butterfly.” I read. “A sign of everlasting friendship. Know that we’ll always be together, even when I am no longer here. Love, Avery. Even when…” And suddenly, I understand why tears are pouring down Avery’s face. I understand why we are allowed to touch. But most of all, as I embrace my best friend, I understand how much I’m going to miss her.
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The butterfly has been there the entire time I’ve stared down at my necklace. Its misty color is almost the exact shade of my own, I note. I tilt my pendant up to match its fluttering wings. And in an instant, I watch the butterfly quiver and take flight upon a garlic-filled breeze, soaring gracefully into the world above. As the butterfly flies away into the pink, glowing sunset, I imagine her memory resting upon its delicate wings. “We’ll always be together,” I whisper. “Thank you… for everything.”