Catching Butterflies

One CrossroadsThe tiny creature filled its belly, gorging on blood. It swelled red and then after a moment lifted off, swaying under the burden of an engorged body. The bug flew toward a patch of undergrowth and landed on a stick. I squinted and sought to recall the name of the insect. Mosquito! The word popped into my brain. While my memory had improved, some words and events of the last five years still eluded me. “You're welcome!” I called before it disappeared into the brush. “April, who are you talking to?” Beth opened her pale blue eyes and yawned. We had stopped for yet another break, the fourth since escaping our confines despite having not travelled very far. And while we'd filled our stomachs with as much food as possible before leaving, our bodies remained weak. A fallen tree at the side of the roadway made for a perfect rest-stop. “The mosquito I fed.” I waved in the direction where the overstuffed bug landed, a proud smile on my face for having helped a fellow living creature. Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Tangled brown waves swept the top of her shoulders. “Probably sh-shouldn't have done that.” “After being half-starved yourself, I thought you'd appreciate my generosity.” “Oh, I do, it's just that there's s-something about them. I can't quite—” “Crap!” There was a flutter in my stomach and my heart quickened its pace. The information Jasper had shared sprang to mind. “Those pests carry the virus.” A slow breath escaped between my lips as I worked to calm the rising anxiety. “Yes, but that's not what I was th-thinking, there's s-something else. Anyway, he also said close contact with anyone infected and we have been—” “Oh!” I interrupted, and with a frenzied motion, scratched the spot where the bug had fed. “This is so itchy!” Red scratch marks covered my forearm, and a small bump appeared. “That's it!” Beth's eyes widened, and she grinned. “Mosquitoes cause great itching.” “Wish you would've remembered that sooner.” For the moment my itchy arm erased any concern for contracting a virus. Beth shrugged, and a more serious expression replaced her cocky smile. “We sh-should have s-stayed.” She cast her gaze ahead of her. “What? Where?” I rubbed at the deep creases in my brow with my fingertips. “At the house, we sh-should have s-stayed there.” “With two dead bodies? And it wasn't a house, it was a prison.” The mention of our former living arrangements conjured images of our attic room. Rough wood walls, rusted cots, buckets used as toilets, the tall wooden wardrobe filled with the belongings of the unfortunate, and the dirty round window played in my head like a strange movie. The echo of Jasper's raspy last breath and the buzzing flies provided the cinematic sound. We had prepared to die in that room, had given up hope. Stop, it's over, I rebuked, we're free. The memory faded, and I gulped in fresh air, relaxing my clenched fists. But are we safe? My eyes scanned the trees, leaves rustled; the faint smell of death, an odour I knew well, tainted the breeze. “At least, there was sh-shelter, running water, and electricity.” Beth didn't hide her irritation. “A dilapidated old shack, drippy faucets, and solar generated power from panels that looked outdated and unreliable.” I reminded Beth. The much older style of power generation was in the back yard. Granted they supplied electricity, we'd had a working lamp, but that meant nothing. It was odd I remembered technical things such as solar panels but couldn't put a name to biting insects that caused itching and the potential for disease. “Still…” “And. Dead. Bodies,” I repeated, emphasizing each word. Visions of Cecil's fly-covered, rotting body flashed in my head; the overpowering odour was one I would never forget. And then there was Jasper. My breath hitched as I thought of poor Jasper, the pain and anguish he must have suffered. “We could have removed th-them.” Beth picked at the decomposing wood with a jagged fingernail. Small chunks flaked off and fell. “Hmph! Don't you mean I would have removed the bodies? You could barely stand the sight let alone the smell.” Beth shrugged and dropped her gaze; her foot pushed around a large piece of bark and disrupted a small and slimy, legless creature. The squirming body slunk under a pile of rotting leaves. A tuft of red fur clung to a nearby shrub, and I pulled my gaze away, worried the animal's remains lay hidden beneath the twigs and leaves. We sat in silence. Insects hummed and buzzed; birds sang in the treetops while I shut my eyes and absorbed the sounds of the world. Nature overwhelmed my senses. My lungs expanded, and the action filled my nose with the smells of the trees, the air, the earth, and even the rotting timber. I bent forward until my face hovered above the surface of the downed tree. The strange scent of musty, decaying wood was unlike the boards on the floor and walls that had encased us for… How long were we there? The scratches carved into the floorboards appeared in my head, and I counted the envisioned lines, adding extra for the days I missed. “What are you doing?” Beth's voice interrupted my thoughts and caused me to jump. “Thinking.” Green moss brushed against my skin, soft, wet, and cool. The heel of my hand wiped across my nose. “Looks more like you're s-smelling.” Another mosquito prepared to dine right next to the growing welt left behind by the previous customer, and I swatted it away. “This is not a buffet!” I held out my itching limb and stood, stretching my arms to the sky. Tiny cracks and pops rippled up my spine. “Time to go.” “Where?” Beth looked up at me from her spot on the downed tree. Her eyebrows rose high and hid under wavy locks. “Can we search for the t-trail?” There was excitement in her voice. Confused by her strange question I pressed my fingertips against my brow. I turned in a slow circle and immersed myself in the surroundings. Tall trees met with the cloudy sky, its leaf covered limbs reached upward like outstretched arms trying to sweep away the grey puffs. Occasionally the sun broke through, and I swore the leaves sighed as they bathed in the warmth. The dirt road weaved through the forest and disappeared, swallowed by the trees. Branches hung with ominous intent, reaching out to grab at whoever dared to walk close enough. The house of our imprisonment was no longer visible when I looked back at the path we'd travelled, but it was easy to imagine. Goosebumps rose, and I trembled. “Keep following the road.” I shrugged. “To where?” “To wherever it leads.” I bent over and picked up my pack. The green bag bulged, silver zippers stretched out to their limit, and I worried they'd split open under the pressure. We packed the backpacks with whatever things we deemed necessary and useful. Unable to stuff in any more items we tied our bedding to the bottom of the full packs. “Probably sh-should have grabbed more food,” Beth said. She stood and hauled up the black bag. The weight and sudden movement caused her to stumble, but she regained her balance. I helped her place the heavy pack over her shoulders. My eyes fixed on a small hole in her grey t-shirt as I straightened the straps. Rolled blankets hung below the backpack and hit just above the backs of her knees. The snap and click of the buckle on Beth's pack pricked my ears and assured me she'd secured the backpack. “This bag is too heavy as it is; you'd never been able to carry it.” I turned away from Beth, swung my load over a shoulder, and waited for her to help with the other strap. With the other shoulder strap secured, I clicked in the front belt and then tugged on the hem of my bright blue t-shirt; the material straightened out from beneath the harness. There had been many articles of clothing in various sizes in one of several huge boxes, and we each grabbed two t-shirts and two pairs of sweatpants. The soft, grey material of the slightly large pants felt strange yet comforting as it rubbed against my legs when I walked. I turned and faced the old tree, placed my foot on top, and reached to secure a blue shoelace. The shoes, found in a separate box, were a size or two larger than my feet. “Your turn,” I said and finished tying the lace of the other shoe. Beth raised her foot and rested it on the tree as I stood behind and steadied her. “We really need to remember to tighten sh-shoelaces before we put these packs on,” she huffed and tightened the black shoelace of one runner. “Next time.” I clutched Beth's pack as she worked on the bright pink lace of the other. We discovered footwear in several boxes but none had laces. After searching more cartons we found a small tangled and tattered roll, most on the verge of breaking. Several minutes of untangling and two pairs emerged from the mess. Beth had grumbled that the laces did not match. Finding four intact shoelaces had been hard enough let alone matching ones. A bright blue lace secured my right shoe while a green one kept my left one in place. The fact they weren't a match was of no concern. “Let's go,” I said, hooking a thumb under each strap. Beth heaved a loud sigh but uttered no other complaint as we continued walking away from a horrendous past into an uncertain future. The scuffing of dirt drowned out the sounds of nature as we plodded. My feet slid inside my shoes with every step. Tie them tighter next time, I thought as my attention focused on the ground. A rock bounced off the end of one runner as my toe kicked it aside. A yellow and black caterpillar wriggled across the path right before my foot landed, and I stepped over the critter in time. “We sh-should have looked harder.” Beth's voice shifted my awareness back to her. “We did.” My sister shook her head. “No, there was one place we didn't ch-check.” There was one place we hadn't checked. There was no way I would poke my fingers into a dead man's pockets in search for a set of keys to his truck. “You didn't want to do it either,” I called out to Beth who continued walking after I stopped. She came to a halt and turned her icy stare on me. “No, but st-still…” “Still what?” Beth waited for me as I caught up to her. She shrugged, and we walked together. “Nothing, just still…” We trudged along; floppy shoes scraped the ground and caused a mini dust storm. “Even if we found the keys, we don't remember if we know how to drive.” I booted a rock and watched as it bounced and tumbled out of the way. “Don't you think we would have remembered once the t-truck started?” Procedural memory, I hadn't wanted to take the chance. “Maybe.” Silence fell between us again as every step took us closer toward the unknown. The pack jostled. The weight of it pushed into my body, and I could sense everything it held. But the journal, Jasper's journal, was the most bothersome. We had taken no time to read it before we left, and my anxiety grew at the thought of reading the secrets within its pages. Stop, I told myself and returned my attention to my feet. It was easier than looking at the trees standing sentry, like they were watching us. I half expected to see a camera, its bloodshot eye peeking out from between the branches of a foreboding tree. My thoughts flickered to the watchful lens in the corner of our room at the compound. “Do you th-think anyone else got out?” Beth's voice once again broke my concentration. My gaze narrowed. “What about our brother?” A tingling sensation spread up the back of neck to the top of my head as I spoke the word brother out loud. Jasper's strangled whisper of the truth echoed in my ear. Knowing we had a younger sibling that neither of us remembered having was still weird. “Not from the house,” Beth jutted her thumb behind her, “from C.E.C.I.L.” Images of the compound flashed in front of me, cameras, white hallways, injections—each memory a snippet of a strange existence. Who else had escaped? Workers were the only ones I recalled ever seeing though only a few memories of my life at C.E.C.I.L. had surfaced. Even the closest rooms to our own were vacant. Was it possible we had been the last ones? The thought disturbed me. “I don't know.” I smacked and squished a mosquito that tried to dine on me again. My finger flicked its crushed body from my arm and it left behind a tiny streak of blood. I licked my thumb and washed the stain away. “This forest looks nothing like the one at C.E.C.I.L.” Beth waved a hand at the woods surrounding us. Once again, my mind filled with memories of tall plastic trees and meandering trails. “Of course not,” I snickered, “these are real. And you mean the forest at C.E.C.I.L. looked nothing like this.” A large rock standing alongside the road caught my attention. It reminded me of a similar one placed by the winding path within C.E.C.I.L. and the day I had planned on touching it. But at the last second I pulled my hand away, afraid they'd see and learn of my awareness. I moved closer to the side as we approached and stretched out my left hand. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as I neared the huge rock. What if someone is watching? “Who?” I questioned back aloud and laughed. The skin on my face tightened, and I wiped my palm across my damp brow. “What are you doing?” “I'm going to touch that.” I pointed and moved towards it. My feet stopped in front of the large, grey boulder. Small fissures ran over the surface branching off in every direction. A black bug with red legs disappeared into a deep crevice that almost split the stone. My left hand trembled. A loud buzz filled my ears as my palm neared the rock. I snapped it back then laughed when I saw an insect buzzing above me. I inhaled and let the air escape through pursed lips; my heart slowed. With much caution, I extended my hand again; my fingers quivered. “Just touch it already.” Beth's slim digits wrapped around my wrist, and before I could resist the sharp tug, my palm rested on the rock. Its rough surface scratched my skin. Coldness travelled up my arm, and I shivered. Beth's warm hand patted the top of mine. “There, now let's go.” I shook my head and laughed as I trailed behind my sister with my eyes fixed on the ground. Neither of us spoke as we followed the road to wherever it led. “Now what?” Beth said after several minutes, her voice sounded defeated. “What?” I halted and stared ahead. The road we'd been travelling on had ended, and another crossed its path. We needed to make a decision at our crossroad.