The Butterfly Forest

THIRTY-FOUR

Elizabeth Monroe turned into something I’ve seen in few people, man or woman, under similar conditions. Somewhere in her psyche, a force came out and congealed around absolute fear, harnessing the worst kind of horror — fear for the life of her only child. Her mind went into an aggressive stance, refusing to run, willing her being to find out the complete facts as they pertained to Molly. She was composed, almost perfunctory as she asked questions. But I could see a hairline crack just below the paint. “Do they think the blood is from Molly? Did they find her car?”

I didn’t have the answers. From what Dave had learned from the news, they didn’t know if there were any other signs of foul play. I called Detective Lewis and told him that Elizabeth was with me. “Marion County is working the scene as we speak,” he said. “Detective Sandberg has forensics people all over it. Trying to make sure they get every speck they can find.”

“Did they find her car?”

“Not that we’ve heard.”

“Beside the bloody print, no sign of a struggle?”

“Apparently not, at least none that was obvious. They’ll take everything to the lab, and that could tell another story. They’ll use choppers and dogs in the morning.”

“Please keep us posted of anything you learn.”

“Remind Elizabeth Monroe to be very careful. Bye.”

I set the phone down and watched Elizabeth whisper a silent prayer, making the sign of the cross when she finished. I told her what the detective said and added, “They’ll do aerial surveillance in the morning, and also send out search and rescue.”

Elizabeth was silent, wrapped in private thoughts. She stared at the moon, her courage draped in secluded memories, sealed in love and hope for her daughter. “Sean, why… why has this happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe she was abducted, kidnapped and taken somewhere.”

I said nothing.

“Tell me she’s alive! Tell me my daughter is alive, please.” Her eyes burned.

“I hope… I pray she’s okay.”

Elizabeth hugged her upper arms, her body trembling for a moment. She looked at me; her eyes searching for something I knew would be elusive, at best. She said, “When Molly was about ten, she found a baby bird, a mockingbird, it had fallen from a nest somewhere. The bird was hopping around, couldn’t fly. It was scared of the other kids, but Molly was able to approach it. She lifted the bird on her hand and stood under an apple tree in our backyard calling out for the mother bird. The mother came down and perched on a limb right above Molly’s head. It was as if they were having a conversation. Molly stood on her tiptoes and set the little bird on the limb and watched as the mother fed her baby. A week later the baby had learned to fly, and it would follow Molly each morning as she walked to the bus stop.”

An owl hooted as it flew across the river from a pine tree in my yard. Elizabeth looked toward the moon and then turned to me. “Who’s going to bring my baby back to me? Molly was learning to fly on her own wings… and now that she’s fallen, who’s going to set her back in the tree? Who would harm a person who is trying to save endangered butterflies? I’m so afraid…” her voice choked.

She stepped to me, arms extended, eyes confused, lower lip trembling as she reached up. “Hold me, Sean. Just hold me.” I held her, and the dam broke, tears spilling down both cheeks. She pressed her head to my chest, deep sobs coming from her heart. “Find Molly, Sean. Please bring my baby back to me.”

A breeze blew across the river bringing the scent of rain. A nightingale called out in the dark. I held Elizabeth as fireflies rose from their secret hiding places in my yard and floated above the ground. The moon rose farther through the old oaks, and the promise of a long night began to settle around us. “I’ll find Molly,” I said.

There was a distant roll of thunder, and I knew dark clouds were building just beyond the horizon. Elizabeth looked up at me, hope etched on her blotched, tear-stained face. She touched my cheek, her fingers trembling. I said, “Stay the night. You’ll be safe here.” She pressed her face against my chest and silently cried.