Betty’s best companion
Tags: Short Fiction, Short Story, Family, Fiction, Grandmother

Photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash

It had been a while since five year old Betty spotted a garden not far away from her house. Tiny bushes and shrubs held their positions in most parts of the land but there were flowers evenly spread throughout. Betty didn’t know the names of all the flowers nor of the plants that stayed in their fixed homes on the ground. She was determined to learn them though and walk regularly to that place at dusk when the heat of the day had left its strength.

Thus, every evening Betty stepped out of the house, accompanied by her Granny, to spend time in the so called “Butterfly garden”. The name was deceiving though, Betty had thought when she first heard it from a neighbor. She was disappointed to not find any of those flying creatures there. But Granny had reassured her that they were in hiding and once the time was right, they would appear and catch Betty by surprise. But she loved the garden anyway and didn’t ponder upon the case of missing butterflies; the irony of a name so forgotten.

She liked to imagine them instead, butterflies of all kinds and colors, hovering over the flowers, their wings bearing the color of dusk. Her Granny gave in to this little game of hers, playing with her imagination by adding bits and pieces like, “I can see a big red one right atop your head.” And then Betty would pretend to remove it from her hair and place it in her palms.

“It flew away Granny,” she’d reply. The game involved a lot of jumping and running, which obviously her grandmother never tried, but Betty flew through the entire length of the garden, clapping her hands at times, screaming, “Butterfly, butterfly! Granny I ain’t able to catch that butterfly!”

Granny made a song too.

Butterfly, O butterfly

Deviate not from your path

We ain’t no troublesome people

We just need your friendship

And Betty would join her, their voices sailing with the wind to the other side of the garden. Anyone who heard them, or saw them playing knew how perfect the pair was, their devotion to the other so robust and steady, their ages a fickle barrier.

When together, the spark in the grandmother’s eye never drifted, the bliss remained etched in her grandchild’s face. Betty never left her behind. She was her perfect company.

One evening, her grandmother caught a slight fever and was unable to go out with her. Betty had to go by herself, but it was no fun without her. She got bored and returned early.

“Did you catch that poor thing, that shiny yellow one?” Her grandmother inquired late at night, her voice hoarse, fever slipping into her tongue.

“They are on a trip, Gran. I guess they’ll return once you do,” Betty replied.

“Sweets, they never leave that place. I guess they are all in hiding today. Remember child, that the butterflies will always be there in the garden. For you.” She smiled, sounding confident of what she had said and drifted off to sleep.

Betty decided to wait till her Granny recovered. She swore not to visit the garden without her. She spent her evenings with her neighborhood dog instead and made plans for the next garden visit.

“Bruno.” She spoke to the dog. “Have you ever paid a visit to the butterflies? If you happen to pass by that garden, don’t chase them, alright?.

“Wuff,” the dog replied as if taking in all the words, his big round eyes gazing intently at her.

“I’m planning to take food for them next time, Bruno. I hope it’s fine with Granny. Would you like to come too?”

Another “Wuff” followed the question.

But it didn’t seem like Betty’s plans would work out soon. Because a week passed by and Granny was still unwell.

What’s taking her so long, she thought.

In the past there had been moments when Granny was sick. But she used to recover in a day or two; at most in three days. Betty tried to talk to her several times. She seemed too sick to reply. Her words would come out all muffled. So there wasn’t much conversation between them in that week. But she never stopped making plans and if she passed by the garden.

She’d say from afar, “Dear friends, Granny and I’ll return soon.”

One night she had an unusual dream. Her grandmother was in it and there was someone else too.

Have seen him somewhere, Betty thought in her sleep.

That round face, dark complexion and broad mouth were all too familiar. He seemed the same age as her Granny and both of them stood silently beside the other on the front porch of their house, their shoulders hunched. It was nightfall, their gaze remained fixed towards the sky, both of them seemed lost in thoughts. At first it looked like they’d forever stay that way, still as statues, staring at the night canvas. But they slowly stooped. It was then she noticed the things on the ground, and picked up the large bags. Granny held two of them, while the man held three. And then very slowly albeit with a swiftness they walked towards the gate. Before Betty could react, they had already unlatched it and were moving on the road outside.

Betty called out, “Granny!” once but no sound came out of her mouth.

They kept on walking, slowly and swiftly, but before they had reached the bend in the road, they paused in their tracks and turned around and smiled at her direction.

Betty gasped. “Oh”, she said and felt a strong desire to capture that moment forever for there lay an immeasurable warmth and grace in each of their faces. She could feel the warmth gliding across her cheeks and reaching her heart. And then they moved on thus disappearing at the bend. The road spawned empty by their missing footsteps, in front of her eyes.

The dream left a bittersweet feeling behind and some alien feeling that she couldn’t fathom and the first thing she did was to run to her Granny’s room. The curtains were drawn at that time, the room lay dark and the bed in the center of it stood empty, a stillness hovering over it.

Her mother appeared behind her and took her in her arms. She looked worn out and sad when she spoke. “Granny was rushed to the hospital at night. Her fever had risen.” And then she forced a smile as well as the next words. “But don’t worry dear. She’ll be back soon. It’s only a….”

But she broke off mid-sentence and started crying. She held on to Betty a bit tighter and Betty cried too. The room witnessed a duet of two sad voices and in the midst of it Betty’s eyes fell on the photo beside her Grandmother’s bed, the one with her Grandpa in it, the Grandpa whom she had never seen but known through that photo and Granny’s stories. Even in the photo, his round face, dark complexion and broad mouth formed the base of his features.