Chapter 30 Vale #3
He looks like a tiger, is what I really want to say. Can they even feel happiness? They’re animals.
“Maybe he doesn’t know any better. Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Before I can think too deeply on what he means by that and figure out why it suddenly feels like he’s talking about something else, he gasps. “Vale!”
This time, he releases my hand, and I find myself scowling as I race after him.
It’s not until I round the enclosure and see where Aston’s headed that I realize what he must’ve spotted through the glass walls of the tiger’s cage:
A greenhouse.
His steps slow to a stop right where the main path breaks off into a cobblestoned trail leading right to the double glass doors.
Looking over his shoulder, he grins when he sees I’m right behind him.
“Butterflies,” he says, as if that wasn’t obvious by the big wooden letters scrolled across the archway just above us.
Butterfly Garden
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand once more.
This time, I find myself adjusting my hold, so he’s no longer just dragging me around by the fingers, but so our palms are pressed together, fingers laced.
He cuts me a funny look, and I feel my neck grow warm.
“You’re my brother, right?” I grumble quietly, not understanding why I suddenly feel the need to release him and shove him away.
He beams, nodding, and gives my hand a squeeze, as if sensing I’m about to let go. “Right! Come on, lil bro. Let’s check out the critters.”
Lil bro.
It’s not the first time he’s called me that. Given how short and skinny I still am, you’d think I am younger. When in reality, I have almost a whole year over him.
It’s annoying, sure, but it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it. Plus, it comes in handy sometimes, being able to wiggle in and out of places Aston can’t, like when we need to steal food.
Combine that with the fact I rarely ever talk to anyone but Aston, people tend to just overlook me. Or assume I’m not capable of the things Aston takes blame for, like taking down a kid twice my size with a rock to the head.
Inside the all-glass structure, trees and bushes and flowers take up nearly every inch of space, except for the narrow pathways, and the cages along the far right wall.
Butterflies of all different colors flutter around the leaves, and when we look up, we find dozens more flitting about the high arched ceiling.
Aston leads me over to the cages first, coming to a stop between two small groups of children.
Clinging to the sides of the cage are thick cocoons in shades of green and white and brown.
“Must be nice,” Aston says softly after a while.
“What?” I ask.
He drags the dirt-caked tip of a finger gently over the cross-hatched wiring of the cage. “Knowing that the life you’re born into is only temporary. That things will change. Get better. You get to start over as something completely new…something…beautiful.”
His smile twitches, and it’s only then that I realize I’m no longer staring at the caterpillars curled up into their little pods as they slowly transform into butterflies. But staring at Aston instead, waiting for him to bust out laughing.
But he doesn’t.
Pulling away from the cage, he leads me down the narrow path, past everyone else standing around, all the way to the back corner where there’s a waterfall trickling into a small pond with lily pads floating around it.
In the corner of my eye, wings flap in the air.
Aston releases my hand, and when I turn to see where he’s going, I find him holding his hands out in the air.
He’s got his head tipped back, a wide smile stamped across his face as he watches the butterflies flitting around him.
“Look, Vale, that one looks just like the one you gave me.”
I follow his gaze to where one with pale grayish green wings flutter lightly in the air.
It looks like your eyes, I think stupidly, but know better than to say it out loud. He’d make fun of me so hard if I did. Laugh right in my face.
He gasps softly, and when I lower my face, I find Aston’s eyes widen on some spot just past me. They dance around like he’s following what I assume is the butterfly I keep seeing in the corner of my eye. The one that keeps getting all up in my space.
Just as I go to lift my hand and swat at the air, Aston says in a rush, “Don’t move.” His eyes are trained on the top of my head, and for whatever reason, I find myself doing as he says, not moving a muscle. I hardly even breathe.
A couple seconds pass, and then suddenly there’s something light landing right on the tip of my nose. Eyes crossed, I take in the vibrant teal and black wings spread out motionless in the air.
Beyond it, Aston’s eyes are wide and bright, his smile slow to stretch across his face. “It likes you,” he breathes.
I begin to grow restless, and Aston must sense it, because his smile slowly fades and a line forms between his eyebrows. He says, “I wish I had a camera.” There’s an odd sort of dip to his tone, one I’ve only heard from him a few times.
Disappointment.
Sadness.
“Why?” I find myself asking, my lips hardly moving.
His gaze meets mine above the flutter of wings. “So I could keep this moment.”
The butterfly takes off, but our eyes remain locked.
His mouth lifts into a smile that creases his eyes. It’s a smile I’ve seen a thousand times, and yet…
My chest feels weird. Tight. Like it’s being crushed. And I suddenly find it hard to swallow, knowing that if I do, he’ll hear it—see it.
So I quickly turn around, and say, “I’m hungry. Can we eat now?”
Aston says nothing as he catches up with me.
And when he grabs my hand outside, I ignore the way my neck heats and my heart pounds. And the fact that there’s no need for him to grab hold of me.
I’m pretty sure I’d follow him anywhere.
“We’ll come back next summer, right?” he asks much later, when we have no choice but to leave and head back to the dump we call home.
I nod. “Sure.”
“You’re the best brother ever,” he says, his voice cracking.
I cast him a sideways look, taking in the way the shadows of buildings glance off his pinched face. His faraway gaze. I want to ask him what’s wrong—why it makes him…sad to say that—but instead, I say nothing.
Something tells me he wasn’t looking for a response.