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“Why not?”
“Because the only thing you’re guilty of here is trying to remind your mother that she has two daughters. And I can never blame you for that, Love.”
I didn’t ask him to elaborate, but this simple comment revived the glimmer of hope I’d almost let die.
He was on my side.
Still.
“But you have to apologize to your sister. Can you do that for me?” He’d arched an eyebrow.
“Yes, Papa, anything.” I’d stopped short. “But what about Mommy?”
“I’ll deal with her.”
On that note, I threw myself into my papa’s arms, holding on to him so tightly I most definitely cut off his airways. He didn’t flinch, extending his arm around my shoulders and squeezing me to his chest as though his life depended on it.
Then he let me cry for what felt like an eternity.
He rubbed my back the whole way through, played with my hair until my cheeks were dry, and I was ready to function like a human being again. Dad and I agreed to leave the safety of the tree five minutes later.
That’s when I belted a scream so piercing it sent the neighbor’s Doberman into a barking fit.
“What is it, baby?” Dad asked right away.
“Ew!” I’d shrieked, pointing at the wormy thing crawling up the cherry tree. “Kill it, Daddy!”
The last thing I expected was for Dad’s deep laugh to cut through the air. What’s so funny? I thought. And why is Dad bending down on one knee? I near gasped in horror when he nudged the green worm off the trunk of the tree into his cupped hands.
“Do you know what this is?” Dad inched his hands in my direction, and I recoiled, backing away. “It’s okay, honey, I promise. Come, take a look.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, I obliged, eyeing the hairy insect inside my father’s palm with the utmost attention.
I’d seen these before.
“That’s a caterpillar,” I recalled.
“It sure is, but I’m not going to hurt it.”
“Why not? It’s so… weird. And look how slow it’s going.” I racked my brain for an explanation as to how this green thing was any different from the giant spiders and mosquitos Dad crushed without a second thought when we went camping.
“What about the butterfly we saw last week?” Dad questioned. “Was it weird?”
I pictured the gorgeous white-and-yellow butterfly I’d seen when playing with Dad at the park. He had this warm, golden aura to him. Was probably just the sun reflecting on his wings, but I’d still spent the ride home daydreaming about seeing it again.
“No.” I smiled in recollection. “He was beautiful. Like a shining star.”
“You’re wrong,” Dad shocked me by saying. “This little guy right here—” He gestured to the striped insect with his chin. “—he’s the real star. He’s the one with all the merit. He’s the onewho puts in the work. And yes, he’s slow. Yes, it can take him a while to get to where he’s supposed to be, but he keeps going anyway. So, that one day… he can become a butterfly, too.”
Fascinated, I’d kneeled down in the damped grass by his side, consuming every last drop of my father’s knowledge
“You see, without the weird phase. Without the work, the struggle, there’d be no victory. Without the ugliness, there’d be no beauty.”
“So… the only way to get there—” I pointed at the blue sky where butterflies all over the world spread their wings, then at the fuzzy caterpillar squirming in my papa’s hands. “—is to start here?”
“That’s right.” Dad nodded in satisfaction before presenting me with an unexpected gift—the caterpillar itself. First, he’d eased my contracted fist open, and then he’d transferred the fragile little guy over from his palm to mine.
Looking at him then, he wasn’t weird anymore.
