Butterflies

  My name's Stephanie and I can communicate with animals. Nobody knows about this, not yet, at least. I was only seven years old when I realised this “curse”, so I hid it down to this day.

  Four months ago, I turned sixteen.

  At the moment, I'm seated in my bathtub covered breast-length in lathered soap. My brown, curly hair skedaddles above the surface of the bathwater around me. I relaxed, even though I knew I needed to be fast so that I could get dressed and be downstairs right in time.

  Yesterday, I was told I'd be going to live with my Uncle Ramsey the great. Yeah, I actually think he's wonderful, despite never having to meet him before. Although, mum and dad claimed that he spent a month with us when I was newly born.

  Uncle Ramsey lived in a far, far away land. Like those types you see in fairytale stories. He has a daughter who — I was told — was just three years older than me. That makes her nineteen. Aside these, there's nothing more I can say about my uncle and cousin.

  Knock, knock!

  I raised my head and looked at the door. There were slight knocks from it.

  “Who's there?” I asked.

  My Nanny Florentine's voice replied firmly, as always.

  “Miss Stephanie, your parents need you downstairs as soon as possible. They're here.”

  The way Nanny said the latter part made is clear who the “they” referred to; my uncle and cousin.

  I tried to hide any trace of excitement in my voice and replied calmly, “I'd be out in a minute.”

  “Very well,” said she, walking away with a pitapat sound from her feet.

  I concluded from my bath as quickly as possible, dried myself quickly with a towel, and made for my bedroom where I'd already selected two gowns I'd still not gotten myself to make a choice over.

  The one on the left was a green gown my Auntie Daisy gave me last summer, while the one on the right was my favorite gown. It was pink and very glamorous.

  As I contemplated, I heard a familiar voice from my window.

  “What's it with humans and clothes? You look far much beautiful the way you are!”

  I looked down at my naked body, admiring myself and curtseying to the speaker. It was Roy the bird. He's been my boredom killer ever since we became friends, a year ago.

  “Oh, thank you my dear Roy, but you see, we feel shamed without these clothes. It is just the way you should feel without your magnificent feathers,” I explained.

  “Ooh, that's horrible! I can't bare to think about it — living without these!” he whistled, placing a wing against his forehead, downheartedly.

  “That's right,” I nodded. “It would be just as horrible for anyone to see me without these clothing over my body.”

  “Oh well, oh well!” whistled Roy, comprehending my words. He paced to and fro the window frame before finally saying: “Are you really going to go away?”

  Ignoring his question, I asked, “Which d'you think is best: this pink gown or this green one?”

  He looked at his own feathers before saying, “Oh well, what is more beautiful than a green pair of wings? I'd say that that green gown would do a far more beautiful thing on you!”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Far more beautiful thing on you!” I mimicked.

  He didn't take notice of what I'd said but kept on and on talking about how his beautiful wings attracted two sparrows to himself, just this week alone. It got to a point (while I wore the green gown) that I couldn't help but laugh at Roy's exaggerations.

  Done with tugging on the long, stressful gown, I begged him for his aid in helping me drag the zip up as it was behind my back and my hands could not reach it. He did help me with the zip, and he did so as quickly and smoothly as a breath of fresh air.

  “Comb,” I said, opening my right hand. Roy got it swiftly and dropped it meticulously in my palm. “Thank you.”

  I heard the pitapat footsteps again. It was Nanny Florentine who came to my doorstep to once again remind me to make haste downstairs. After she left, I exhaled slowly.

  “I will miss you when I'm gone for the holidays,” I told Roy.

  I could see he was downcasted.

  “You know, I could come with you.”

  I gave it a moment of thought but, of course, could not bring myself to oppose his words.

  Like I said, I had this curse that makes me understand animals. Why I have it is still a mystery yet to be unraveled. I can't tell Dad about it too, he may send me away or something, and the other kids in the neighborhood would call me a jerk or a witch or something.

  Nah-ah, ain't happening.

  I opened the door and walked downstairs, my fingers caressing the somewhat cold rail. My face was brightened by a wonderful smile I'd been practicing since yesterday.

  As I spiralled down the staircase, I struggled hard not to throw my eyes over the floor and scan around for my uncle and cousin.

  My chest was disturbed inside. I could feel my heart beating against it like harmer against wood.

  Then a thought crossed my mind.

  What if my cousin's mean like those ones I've read about in several books? Then my vacation wouldn't be such a “glamour”, wouldn't it?

  Just simultaneously to the split-second thought came a wonderful, well-pitched voice from a smiley face and an open arm.

  “Oh, my dear Cousin Stephanie! Oh, look Dad, she's so beautiful!”

  My face flushed red, hysterically, and I was moved to watery eyes, slowly accepting the brace and hugging her tightly.

  I guess she is nothing near mean, then. . .

  She had a light perfume on that made her smell like a beautiful flower in its bloom. Drawing in the air, I exhaled, satisfied.

  “My, Cousin Dorothy, is this you?” I asked, wanting to be sure I wasn't giving myself false hopes.

  “You bet I am! Ay, you've got Aunt Sarah's nose there!” she said, stealing a glance at my mum who was smiling ear-to-ear.

  “You look so, so, beautiful, Dorothy. I'm glad to finally be meeting you.”

  After those words, I curtseyed casually, now feeling more at ease.

  I turned around to look at my Uncle Ramsey, Dorothy's father.

  He was a man of my father's build. He carried such a heavy resemblance with him that one could mistake them for twins.

  You see, Uncle Ramsey is my Dad's immediate senior brother out of six male and no female from their parents; my grandparents. He was first while my dad, second.

  I curtseyed, respectfully.

  “Oh dear niece, you look no differently from my daughter. You both make a wonderful pair. Such beauties!” he began saying.

  I can't remember the rest of the things he said, however, I was wondering how the lass beside me could be compared to me in matter of resemblance... I mean, I can't see any resemblance. My hair was a curly, dark brown with a touch of brownish gold strands here and there, while hers was a pure blonde, yellow-coloured hair. I had milia (face spots) all over my visage while hers were smooth as a baby's. How did we in the slightest way look alike? Plus, she's an inch or two taller than me.

  I only smiled and curtseyed in reply.

  There was a butler standing very professionally not too far from him, wearing a black and white attire like all butlers do. He nodded a quick greeting to me, at which I acknowledged.

  “So, Stephanie, as your parents must have already informed you, we'd not be sparing the slightest moment more, but would have to leave immediately with you.

  “Where we live, you see, is very far and it would be impossible to reach there in two days' time if we don't leave now.”

  I stared at my uncle in disbelief. Two days? Is that not all the more reason you should gasp some air and rest your rumps?!

  I looked at Mum and Dad and saw their nods of approval, then I made a quick smile to cover the astonished look I earlier had on my face.

  Uncle Ramsey turned to my parents and thanked them for all the gifts they'd arranged for them. He was truly grateful — I could tell this from his voice and the way he carefully selected his words.

  In no time, we were before two rich-looking carriages, the best I've ever seen so far. The butler sat beside the horseman in front of one carriage, while the other one had just a single horseman waiting for his command. We were asked to enter the latter, while my uncle entered the one with the butler.

  Gidiya!

  The horses began to run at full speed. From within, I waved at Mum and Dad and saw they were teary-eyed. If not for the fact that I was going with my Uncle Ramsey, I'd have thought I'd just been sold out.