My Butterfly

Chapter Thirty-Two Reunion

“I mean, really, is this really necessary?” Rachel asked, as she elbowed me in the arm. “I see these people almost everyday. And if I wanted to see them at night, I could do that too. The keyword here is if.”

“Oh, come on, Rach,” I said. “It isn’t that bad. Your five-year high school reunion only comes around once in a lifetime.”

She glared at me with narrowed eyes.

“The invitation said, ‘no guests,’” she continued. “What kind of a party do you go to that you can’t bring any guests?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I didn’t make the rules, Rach,” I said.

I grabbed two drinks from the counter, and at the same time, noticed a big guy in the opposite corner of the room.

“Wait, Rach, isn’t that Jon over there?” I asked.

“Hmm?” she asked.

She seemed disinterested.

“Jon,” I repeated.

“Oh, yeah, I brought him anyway,” she said, flipping her hand in the air.

I stared at her for a second as she walked away. Then, I smiled and followed her to a table in the corner of the room. We sat down, and I slid her a drink. She took a big gulp of it and then set the glass down.

“Great,” she exclaimed then, under her breath.

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t look back,” she said. “Maybe she won’t see us.”

“What?” I asked.

“Rachel! Will!”

I turned in my chair, but before I could get all the way around, a woman was already wrapping one arm around my back and hooking her hand onto my shoulder. She smelled of strong perfume.

“Janette,” Rachel said, in a hollow and unenthused tone.

I caught Rachel’s glare and smiled, knowingly.

“I didn’t know you two were going to be here,” Janette exclaimed, pulling up a chair and squeezing in between Rachel and me.

Rachel looked at me sideways. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled back at her.

“It’s our class reunion, Janette,” Rachel said. “Who did you expect to see here?”

Janette hadn’t seemed to have heard Rachel’s question, and if she had, she ignored it.

“Now, what are you two up to these days?” Janette asked in a high-pitched voice.

Rachel let out an exasperated puff of air.

“I’m teaching…,” Rachel started.

“That’s right,” Janette interrupted, as she tossed back her head and laughed. “That’s a silly question. You’re in Hartsville, and Will, are you still fighting those fires?”

She winked at me, and at the same time, she dug her long, red talons into my bicep.

“Yes, Janette,” I said, smiling up at Rachel.

Rachel scowled at me.

“Have you heard that my boyfriend just got a job at the bank?” she asked. “He’s in the accounting department. I don’t think you’ve met him. He went to Northwest Missouri, graduated near the top of his class.”

I watched as Rachel’s lips twitched but then finally formed a fake smile.

“He’s probably going to propose to me at any moment now,” she continued. “We’ve already talked about buying a house here in town, and he wants two kids. But we’re going to start off with a dog first, you know. We’re going to skip the plant. God knows we can take care of a plant,” she said, laughing up into the air. “That’s just a waste of our time. Time’s a tickin’, you know.”

Janette paused and smiled at Rachel.

Rachel forced her fake smile higher up her face and slowly shook her head back and forth.

“It’s a tickin’,” Rachel repeated. “But sadly, not fast enough,” she added under her breath, while flashing me an impatient glare.

Suddenly, Janette’s purse burst to life then with the help of some off-beat tune, and immediately, Janette’s attention flew to the bag. I watched her root in the purse for a second before I noticed Rachel’s eyes on me again. They were big and telling, and I just knew she wanted to strangle Janette or run or something. I chuckled to myself and lowered my eyes.

Janette eventually rescued her phone and pulled it from her purse.

“Oh, it’s just my mom. She probably wants my recipe for those blueberry muffins I made the other night,” she said, still staring into her phone’s screen.

Rachel’s narrow eyes flashed back to Janette. I quickly cleared my throat and garnered Rachel’s attention again. She met my eyes and gave me a pleading look but then eventually forced another counterfeit smile.

“By the way, Will, where’s Julia?” Janette asked, after poking a button on the phone and throwing it back into her purse.

Rachel’s eyes fiercely darted back toward Janette, and this time, there was nothing I could do to stop her. Instead, I just swallowed hard and uncomfortably shifted in my chair.

“Uh, Janette,” Rachel said, regaining Janette’s attention. “I heard that Ben, uh, knows a guy who went to Northwest and might know your boyfriend.”

I furrowed my brows at Rachel. She caught my gaze and shrugged her shoulders.

“Does he really?” Janette asked.

She sounded excited.

“You know, I bet they were in the same fraternity,” Janette said. “They’re all so close, you know?”

Rachel smiled and lifted her shoulders again.

“You know, that’s probably it,” Rachel said.

“Where is Ben?” Janette asked, as she pushed herself up from her chair and craned her neck around.

Rachel pointed to a burly-looking guy across the room, and just like that, Janette was gone.

“Thanks,” I softly said.

“Don’t mention it,” Rachel said.

There was a silent moment then as Rachel and I both watched Janette run over to Ben and say something and then Ben look at her as if she were crazy.

“Priceless,” Rachel said, proudly smiling.

“So, how is everything going?” Rachel asked, planting her eyes on me again. “What do your parents think about the band and everything?”

I smiled.

“They seem to be getting used to the idea,” I said. “I really don’t think they knew what to think of it at first. But you know them; if I’m happy, they’re happy.”

Rachel shook her head and smiled.

“I bet your mom’s ecstatic,” she said.

I chuckled a little to myself.

“Yeah, I guess it was Dad that I had to more or less convince,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t take much convincing once he heard you guys play,” she said.

I smiled, bashfully. Then, it was quiet for a moment again.

“So, have you talked to Julia lately?” I asked.

Rachel found my eyes and gently smiled, kind of like a mom would smile at you right before she told you that your hamster didn’t make it through the night or something.

“She’s doing well,” she said, slowly nodding her head. “She has a test or something and couldn’t make it tonight, but she’s doing well.”

I nodded my head too as my eyes turned down and searched for a spot to rest on the table’s surface in front of us.

“Can you believe Janette?” Rachel asked, quickly changing the subject. “I mean, you’re practically a rock star, and she’s sitting here talking about her accountant boyfriend like he just found some medical cure.”

I lowered my head and laughed.

“I’m not a rock star, Rach,” I said.

“Well, you’re gonna be, and Little Miss Tickin’ Blueberry Muffin is going to drop one of her two kids into her perfect recipe’s batter when she sees you on television someday,” she said.

I chuckled some more.

“Rachel, you’ve got a wild imagination,” I said.

Rachel laughed, found my gaze and then rested her hand on mine.

My eyes darted to her hand and then met her eyes.

“Call her,” she said, softly. “There’s no reason you guys should be strangers.”

I forced a smile and nodded my head. Then, I felt her hand slowly pull away from mine again.

“Rachel,” I said and then stopped.

I glanced around us. Nobody was within an ear’s shot, so I continued.

“It’s been five years, and it just doesn’t seem like we’re ever in the same place,” I said. “There have been times when I’ve wanted to say things to her.”

I paused and looked around again.

“But it just never happened,” I went on. “There’s a part of me that feels like she might prefer that we just be strangers.”

Rachel softly smiled.

“Her dad was a cop,” she said.

My eyes instinctively narrowed. She had said the words as straightforward as you could say words. I cocked my head and furrowed my eyebrows. Then, I watched her close her eyes briefly and nod her head.

“St. Boni Police Department for fifteen years,” she said. “He quit the force when Julia was eight.”

I was speechless for a second.

“What?” I eventually asked.

She sighed and met my eyes again.

“Evidently one night, he didn’t come home, and Julia’s mom went crazy trying to find him,” she said. “Eventually, she found out that he had been shot by some guy he had pulled over that night. The guy had a warrant and thought shooting her dad was the only way to get out of going back to jail. Her dad was in the hospital for a week, until he recovered and went back to work. Julia’s mom, on the other hand, never really recovered. Julia told me that she remembered waking up to her mom screaming the nights following the accident. He retired soon after that.”

I sat back in my chair and stared up at the wall.

“Why didn’t she ever tell me this?” I asked.

Rachel softly smiled.

“Because she doesn’t talk about it — no one in her family talks about it,” she said. “I just so happened to stumble across a photo with him in a uniform one day, and I forced her to explain. It wasn’t a very happy time for Julia, and her dad must have loved the force, but he must have loved her mom more.”

She met my eyes again. I knew my face was some kind of blank, and my lips were stuck on a word my mind couldn’t seem to think to form.

“I’m only telling you because I think the eight-year-old girl inside of her is running from you,” she said.

She took in a big breath and let out a sigh.

“But you can’t ever tell her I told you,” she said, in a pleading voice.

I shook my head.

“I won’t,” I softly said.

I slid farther back into my chair and let its back catch me.

“Rachel, what guy do I know that knows Janette’s boyfriend?” Ben interrupted, as he pulled a chair to our table.

Rachel flashed me a sly half-smile before she turned her attention to Ben.

“I just needed a break,” Rachel said to him. “Wait, how did you get over here so fast?”

Ben chuckled.

“I just told her Jeff’s the one who knew him,” he said.

Rachel and Ben laughed. I was too preoccupied.

“How’s Jon?” Ben asked Rachel, after their laughter had faded.

I pushed my chair back and stood up.

“Well, I think I’m going to take off,” I said.

I didn’t even try to make up an excuse.

“Oh, okay,” Rachel said.

The pause in her voice told me that she understood.

“You leaving already, buddy?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” he said. “I’ll be taking off here soon anyway. I swear I’m having déjà vu. I mean, didn’t we just see all these people Friday night?”

Rachel dramatically nodded her head and found my eyes.

“See!” she exclaimed.

I forced a smile and tipped my cap to Rachel, and her proud smile turned soft again. Then, I walked to the door, pushed it open and hastily made my way to Lou in the gravel parking lot. My pace picked up with each step, but it was still as if I couldn’t get behind the wheel and out of there fast enough.

Within a few minutes, I pulled in front of the high school and turned off my truck. I could see through the windows that the lights were off and that no one was inside. I got out, closed the door behind me and made my way around the building and to the back. When I came to a couple of metal doors, I reached above them and found a key under a layer of dust on the ledge. I slid the key into the door and pushed it open. Once inside, I closed the door behind me, shoved the key into my jeans pocket and took in a deep breath. It smelled like a mixture of unwashed basketball jerseys, old books and that wax they used on the gym floor every year. I waited for my eyes to readjust to the darkness inside. Then, I shuffled to the gym and switched on a light that illuminated the path in front of me. Four concrete steps later, I was on the stage. It was empty except for a couple of stray balls, a questionable ladder and an abandoned sweatshirt. I walked over to the far side and pulled on a narrow rope, which forced the heavy stage curtains to part. When the rope wouldn’t move anymore, I hurried over to the edge of the stage and looked out onto the court. The light from behind me was just bright enough that I could see what I needed to see. My eyes immediately fell onto a rafter in the corner of the gym near the stage. And in the rafter, I spotted two balls.

A disbelieving laugh fell off my lips next.

“She was right. Nothing ever leaves the rafters,” I said to myself.

I swiveled around on my heels and spotted the ladder first. It was clearly not tall enough to get me directly to the ball, but if I stood on it and used one of the other balls lying on the stage, I just might be able to knock it down.

I rushed over to the stepladder, picked it up and carried it down another four steps to the other side of the stage. Then, I positioned it slightly under the ball imprisoned high in the ceiling and then ran back and grabbed two, rubber balls.

Once I reached the stepladder again, I carefully climbed up its wooden planks. The old ladder had definitely seen some better days. I got about three quarters of the way up, waited for it to stop swaying, and then I balanced my weight against its frame. Next, I took the first rubber ball, arched it back and sent it flying into the air toward the volleyball. It hit the ball but then fell right beside it, and in the end, only helped to wedge the volleyball even tighter into the rafter. I took the second rubber ball then, arched it back and then sent it into the air as well. It hit the volleyball and knocked it so that the volleyball was now balancing on both the beam of the rafter and the other ball. I waited for the second rubber ball to come tumbling back down to the floor. Then, I carefully scurried down the ladder and over to where it had rolled into a dark spot under the bleachers. My hand felt for the ball under the wooden seats, then quickly recovered it. And before I knew it, I was hurrying back to the ladder again. Then, one more arch and a launch later and the rubber ball and the volleyball were both plummeting back down to the hard gym floor.

“Yes,” I yelled, pumping my fist into the air.

The ladder rocked, and I quickly grabbed each side to steady it again. Then, I watched the volleyball roll to the opposite side of the gym before I flew down the ladder.

Once my feet hit the floor again, I jogged over to the volleyball and scooped it up. Sure enough, her name and number were still tattooed to the ball. I ran my fingers over the letters in her name.

“You lasted some years up there, ball,” I said, smiling to myself. “Don’t worry, though, we’re gonna finally get you home.”