François walked down the street. He looked at the beautiful apartments not damaged by the earthquake. "I wish we lived there!" he said angrily, kicking a can into the gutter. François lived in Haiti, right after the 2010 earthquake. "At least Mom's coming home tonight for my birthday." He had his heart set out for a bike. And not just any bike, either. He wanted the beautiful orange, three-gear bike with a basket in front in the display window at Georgois's incorporated.
He hurried home. His mom would make him something special, his sister would sing him Happy Birthday, and his present! He unconsciously quickened his step. When he arrived home, he looked around for his mom and his sister.
"Home" was a generous word for it. Before the earthquake, it was already in a pitiful state. Now, it was little more than a roof and four walls. His sister's head poked out from the bed covers. "Surprise!" she squealed. "Mom came home an hour ago, while you were down at the beach. She left for an errand. She'll be here any second!""Who'll be here any second?" asked a voice from outside.
"Mom!" they both shouted happily.
"Whose special day is it today?" she teased.
"Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.." François's mom, Sophie, and sister, Merveille, sang."I think I might have something for you..." Sophie said. She went around the house. François waited with bated breath...
"Here you are!" Sophie said. François's hopes plummeted. His mom held out a funny-looking, oval-shaped, white, almost transparent stone to him.
"Ooooh!" squealed Merveille.
"Thanks, Mom." was all François said, in a definitely un-thankful voice.
Dinner was a subdued affair. They had spring rolls that Sophie had managed to get for François's birthday.His mom gave him the special cupcake the baker had given her when he heard it was for a birthday. When he went to bed that evening, or rather one of the two mattresses on the floor of the house, François was in the dumps.
He imagined the beautiful orange bike in the shop window. "Some rich kid is probably going to buy it. He'll treat it like a piece of dirt, then forget it's there and have it in his basement so nobody else could try it. Even if he did, he'd already have ruined and twisted the spokes, put mud on the fenders, and snapped the handlebars." thought François. "I'll never have it." he murmured sadly and fell asleep.
He woke up suddenly. Was it the morning yet? No the moon was full outside, and an owl hooted somewhere. His sister and mother were asleep. What was it then, that woke him? Then he heard a noise. It must have happened again, and the first time woke him up. Was it coming from outside? No. It seemed to be too close for that. He saw a flicker in his peripheral vision. He turned, and saw that the disappointing white stone his mom had given him was wiggling. There wasn't a breeze, so whatever was making it move was coming... from inside the stone. François sat up, rigid, looking attentively at the stone, like a lion looking at an antelope before pouncing.
Even if this stone could by no means be equal to the bike-his heart gave a pang of longing- this was definitely interesting. The stone now started to crack- something was emerging from the bottom of the stone. It looked like a weird kind of short thick black-orange worm. Until it unfurled its wings, and stayed sitting on the floor until its wings dried.
"Oh no you don't." François said with a smile. He went to the garbage heap near his house. "Where is it, where is it.......I hope it hasn't been thrown out! Ah, here it is!" he said triumphantly. He pulled out a battered rabbit cage, one the size of a bathtub. He brought it home with some difficulty, just managing to pass under the nose of Mr.Blanquet, a very cranky old man who hated noise and being disturbed in his sleep. When he got back, he put the cage the cage down and gently put the thing in it. Then, he pulled out his secret jar of honey from behind his pillow. His dad was a beekeeper twenty miles away to gain money, and the jar had been his last birthday present. He scooped a dollop of honey and put it on the floor of the cage next to the butterfly, for that was what it was. He smiled happily, then went to sleep.
He was woken up by loud noises. His mother and sister were cooing over the butterfly. "Awww, look at him!"
"Are you sure it's a him?" he asked.
"Oh, hi François. Did you make this? And yes, I'm sure it's a him." said his sister in one breath.
"Yeah, I made it." Not wanting his mother to think he liked her present, because he thought it was a bad deal to give your kid a rock for his birthday, because he was sure his mom didn't know it was a butterfly cocoon, he said, "I found the butterfly outside."
"Don't you think we should release him back to nature?" asked Merveille. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that." François said sadly.
Then his face brightened. "I have an idea!" He opened the cage, put a bit of honey on his finger, and watched the butterfly fly up. "Now watch." He said confidently. He held up his finger really high, and the butterfly, attracted by the sweet scent of honey, came spiraling down to land on his finger. Once the butterfly had had his fill, he flew around gaily. "Ooh, I have an idea!" exclaimed Merveille. she put some honey on her nose, and the butterfly came down neatly on her nose. "You look ridiculous!" laughed François. "Let me try!" They played this game for hours, until it was time to go to bed. François checked the rabbit cage door, then slept.
The next day, François went into town to find jam or something sweet for the butterfly. When he came home, with a jar of blueberry jam, his sister ran to meet him. "It's Milo! (The butterfly's name) He's gone!"
"What do you mean, he's gone?"
"The cage door's open and there's no trace of him!"
François slowly sat down, almost in a daze. No one really cares about us, he thought. We've been abandoned, and the one time we have something worth having, it's gone. François had never felt so down, even after the earthquake. Ah, the earthquake...
Meanwhile, somewhere in Central America...
The butterfly came back to his group. "What... new. What...new" the others asked. "Come...found sweet. Come...found sweet." he answered. As one, the four million butterflies left in the general direction of Haiti.
Back to François:
It was a tuesday. François remembered the day like yesterday. Before the earthquake, he had three rooms in his house. They were crushed to rubble. Only the kitchen was left. Buildings falling, crushing people, fissures opening in the ground. The horror of losing Merveille, then pulling her out of the rubble, the screams, the cries, it was horrible.
François got up. "Look, it's Milo!" screamed his sister.
"No, it can't be. Milo left." François said in a gloomy voice.
"No, look it's his friends! One, two three, four AHHH! Look at all these butterflies!"
"What?" François turned around. It couldn't be true! he told himself... and was covered in butterflies. He laughed, put a bit of jam on his finger, and Milo detached himself from his friends to get it, but four million butterflies got there first. People came out of their homes and were soon dancing joyfully amidst the cloud of butterflies.
After all, François thought, the other people may not care about us, but these butterflies will... as long as we have jam and honey, that is!
THE END
