Chasing Phantom Butterflies (short story)

[Gundam Girl]

Chasing Phantom Butterflies

Grant and I are inseparable. I met him on the first day of seventh grade when he switched over from the private school. He was rowdy; my kinda guy. We?d wreak as much havoc as possible in junior high, pranking teachers, stealing girlfriends, that sort of thing. It was fun. We honestly had a blast, and whatever guilt we had was short-lived.

In high school, it was pretty much the same deal, ?cept better. Vandalism moved from classroom filing cabinets to painting the windows of the Presbyterian Church. Guys started accepting the inevitable and would lay off any girls we had our eyes on. Teachers stopped giving us detention for fear of the revenge we could inflict. Life was sweet.

Then Grant got his driver?s license sophomore year. I don?t have any idea how he did it. Neither of us can easily pass a take-home quiz, but Grant managed all the tests and was allowed on the road. He started working at McDonald?s so he could buy his own ride, and the summer before this year, senior year, cashed in for a banged-up Camaro. ?We?ll give it a paint job, replace the doors and tires,? he said, ?and then we?ll be one step up.? His fantasy about being the talk of the school parking lot was cool with me, and I did what I could to help.

School rolled around and when the first Back To Hell party came up, we were there, taking smart advantage of the free drinks, but we stayed off the drugs. Drugs, we both agree, are wack-crazy.

I was the only one who got drunk. I?m pretty sure Grant drank too, but he?s a bit smarter than me, so he only got buzzed. It was the best night of our lives; I?m pretty sure

I hooked up with Melissa, the redhead princess of the 2003 class who threw the party. But it?s hard to remember. Maybe Grant got her. He?s better looking than me, too, but not by much.

I remember the ride home. We were talking about how I?m gonna try out for the basketball team this year. I?m sure to make it; Coach Jackson?s been wanting me since eighth grade, but I didn?t want any guys thinking I was trying to get in with them, so I never went for it. I?ll probably make captain though. I?m really good.

Anyway, we got out of downtown. The stoplights are real pretty when you?ve just had nine beers. Green, yellow, red. I kept seeing those colors even when we started up the dimly-lit hill. I was planning to crash at Grant?s house. Dad would freak if he ever caught me like this. And Grant?d have me over anytime, I thought as the colors behind my eyelids kept alternating.

Green? ?You should really start taking it easy, man,? Grant said. ?Jackson won?t want any alcoholics.?

?I?m no alcolish,? I slurred in defense. Yellow? ?I jus? like som?tin cold ever now an? t?en.?

?I know, I know.? Red? Grant laughed lightly, but it sounded forced. Maybe. I dunno. I was drunk, remember? ?Anyway, I?m just saying. We?re both gonna be eighteen this year.? Green? ?Don?t ya wanna learn to drive so you can get outta here and go to college? Maybe get a job to pay for college??

?Who nees collesh?? I asked. Yellow? ?I?m all righ? here.?


Red? ?I know, man, I know.? Grant coughed, but that sounded forced too. Yellow? ?But think about? GOD!?

I cracked my eyes open. White? White? There were two white lights, racing forward like glow-in-the-dark baseballs being thrown by parallel pitchers. When did two whites get added onto the stoplight colors? This woulda been on the news, right? Not that I ever watch the news. I watch the ballgame.

I felt the Camaro jerk. I heard Grant shout a curse, I felt something metallic rush into my mouth, and I saw the twin lights come right up to us. It started to feel like I just got tackled; an odd feeling since no one had been able to take me down before. There was a scream, a voice that sounded freakishly like my own. And then?

Black.

***

I don?t know what happened after that. Grant and me went to school the next Monday. We rode there in his car, so I guess nothing bad had happened that night. I bet ya I dreamed it. Funny dream all right, but a dream just the same. School was actually really good; best school had ever been. There was a pop quiz in Calculus. I don?t know what it was for, but I passed. I had the best grade in the class. Don?t got a clue how it happened, but it was sweet.

That started off my best year ever. I did make the basketball team, and hey! We won the championship, man. That hasn?t happened since ?81. Jackson told me he wishes
I could fail classes just so I could play on his team again next year. But I can?t fail classes. I?m acing all of them right now. Go figure that, huh? At this rate, maybe I will
go to college. Maybe I?ll go to the same college as Grant and we?ll take over that place too. Or maybe I?ll marry Melissa. We?ve been going out all year now and she?s always saying how happy she is when she?s with me.

The only weird thing about life right now is that I keep seeing these butterflies. They keep getting in the school and in my house. They?re kinda cool looking ? they?re orange and they do this awesome flicker thing, like they?re on fire ? but it?s messed-up to see them everywhere. Maybe I?ll ask my science teacher about it. That lady?s in love with me, I swear.

Grant and I are walking. We?re walking down the hill, going to Melissa?s end-of-the-year party. I?ve persuaded him not to drive ?cause I just took my driver?s test (aced that too) and have been driving all week. I need exercise. ?Hey, man,? I say. ?Maybe I should lay off the booze this time, huh??

Grant laughs, pushes back his black hair that?s getting tossed around by the wind. ?I don?t know, man. You never do. Why should you??

?Dude, I had a dream after Mel?s first party. Your car got hit with a truck or something.?

?A truck? Hit my baby?? He grins. ?I thought we said drugs suck, man. You?re on something.?

?Nah, come on. I saw the headlights. We got hit bad, I got knocked out and we??

<i>Grant, you?re here again.</i>

I stop. Grant does too, a few steps ahead of me and looks back. ?What?s up, man??

I could swear I just heard my mom?s voice. Talking to Grant.

<i>Thanks for coming. It means a lot for you to come here. Chris was at work, but he should be here any minute. He always likes to see you. We both do.</i>

Dad works in the morning. It?s almost seven at night. What?s Mom talking about? Why the heck am I even hearing her in my head?

<i>I?like to come here.</i> Grant?

<i>No, you don?t, Grant. I know that. But it?s okay.</i>

Where is Mom? Why?s she saying stuff to Grant? He?s right here with me!

<i>I heard? I talked to a doctor outside, Mrs. Reilly. He said you and Mr. Reilly had decided?

It was a hard decision, Grant. But we had to make it. It?s been five months? I?We?Neither of us can bear to see him like this anymore.</i>

Who are you talking about, Mom? Why do I hear you? Why do I hear Grant talking to you?

I turn around to look ahead of me. ?Hey, Grant?? Whoa. What the? Where?d Grant go? He was right there! I turn again. The hill?s gone. The road?s gone. Everything?s gone. There?s just?black. All around me. I can?t even see my hands.

<i>I was thinking earlier. Maybe we honestly waited too long. It?s not fair of us to keep him like this. He?s our son, though, so maybe we?just wanted to hold on as long as we could.

I see? I get it, says Grant?s voice. But I? It seems like it hasn?t been any time at all. Since that truck came at us.<i>

What, we did get hit? Oh my God! But how did that happen, we were fine! Grant and me were just fine!

<i>I know it seems short, Grant. But it really has been five months. Oh?hi, honey.

Grant. Dad?s voice. Dad?s there. Good to see you. I guess you already know.</i>

Know what? What does Grant know?

I can see something in the dark now. It?s coming closer. It?s one of those butterflies, glowing, flickering.

<i>Yeah. When are they?gonna do it?

Whenever we tell them to.</i>

Another butterfly. And another. There?s ten now, fluttering around, burning without dying as they make slow circles in the air. Soon there?s twenty. Then thirty.

<i>I?m? I know I?ve said this. I?ve said it a million times, I know, but it doesn?t seem like it?s enough. It?ll never be enough.

Grant?

No, Mr. Reilly. I did this to him. I did this to him ?cause we were stupid kids and we never tried to get smart. Justin was?is?my best friend. And I did?I did this!</i>

There?s fifty butterflies. There?s a hundred. There?s a thousand, a million.

<i>Grant, it?s been five months,</i> Dad says. <i>You need to stop tearing yourself up.</i>

They?re hurting my eyes. They?re so bright. Glow. Glow.

Mom adds, <i>And we?ve said this a million times. It?s nobody?s fault. We believe that. Why else would we not have sued the guy in the truck?</i>

<i>But he?s been in a coma! It?s made me crazy! I put my best friend into a coma!</i>

A coma? Who are you talking about?

Flicker. A hundred more butterflies?

<i>That?s why we decided to do this,</i> Dad tells Grant quietly. <i>So that we can stop being crazy, so we can let go of something that?s not really there.

And now, says Grant, we?re just gonna let him die?</i>

<i>Mom?s voice is thick. She?s crying. We have to, Grant. It?s hopeless now.</i>

<i>Mrs. Reilly, I?ll wait for you and your husband to give me the word. I want you to know it?s been an honor being Justin?s doctor.</i>

Silence for a moment. More and more butterflies, more and more.

I can hear Grant clear his throat. Well, I? You?re always gonna be my best friend, man. Always, okay??

You?re going to? Aren?t you? You?re going to kill me. I?m in a coma, and you?re gonna tell them to pull the plug. This whole year?s been false, a dream.

The butterflies get impossibly brighter.

<i>We love you, Justin.</i> Mom.

<i>We really love you, son.</i> Dad.

The butterflies go into a frenzy, flapping their flaming wings.

Burn, flicker, flicker, glow. Heat. Glow, flicker. Hot.

<i>Bye, Justin.</i>

Flicker. Burn.

Grant! You and me were always doing what we thought was good for us. We were always making a good life that wasn?t really good at all. Like following someone in your dreams, sleepwalking. It wasn?t real. It wasn?t the truth.

Glow, heat.

Or chasing these butterflies. They?re not real. They?re ghosts, phantoms.

Grant? I hope you start chasing the truth, and that you catch it. I really hope so.

Flash.

Black.

[Eienvine]

That was . . . odd, but a really, really good odd. I really liked it a lot. It was short and to the point, which I appreciated, and it kept me guessing. Great job!

[Gundam Girl]

Thanks. As for it being odd, that was a lot of the goal. I prefer "unique" though. ^_^ Thanks for reading!