Save the Butterfly

4 - Free like a Butterfly

Only two months later, I entered the chocolate factory for the last time. I had finally found a part-time job in my line of study and would be paid far better. No more night shifts, no more troubles keeping my eyes open during lectures, no more failed tests because I was too tired to learn and study.

I was happy until the moment I walked into the changing room to prepare for my last shift. True, I never fitted in with the crowd of my coworkers. But now I had a respectable, well-paid job in an attorney's office—while they would carry on with unchanging perspectives until the end of their professional careers. I thought of gentle Martha, who'd suspected she'd never live to see the day of her retirement. Already the subdued banter of the night-women flowed around me as if I were an invisible alien in their midst.

I passed the first half of my shift at the tail, controlling wrappings: An easy job—my thoughts drifted to the new challenge I faced. During the break, I offered my coworkers a round of coffee and cigarettes and explained my upcoming departure. Most of them hadn't been aware I was leaving. I became the centre of attention, and, to my surprise, the good kind of attention. The women wished me luck, seemed genuinely happy I made it out of here. Beth even went so far as to hug me goodbye. I realised it gave them hope to see one of them find the door to a better life.

Afterwards, I returned to my station near the conches teary-eyed. I never guessed they considered me part of the gang. Beth, who stood right beside me, nudged me gently. "You know, we all thought you looked down on us. But it wasn't true. Martha was right, you're just special like she was. Forgive us."

I saw where this impression could have come from. Socialising wasn't my strength. Probably I'd talked more often to Katharina's ghost than to most of my coworkers. Sadness rushing my thoughts, I shook my head. "There's nothing to forgive. I'll miss you and my time here. And Martha, especially Martha."

We worked on in silence. Beth understood.

Katharina's ghost announced her arrival with the familiar drop in temperature. A welcome shiver ran down my spine. I needed to say my final goodbyes, to night hours, coworkers and factory ghosts—or ghost, singular.

Katharina seemed distressed. No joyful swirling of chocolate mass, no shifting of bars on the belt or flicking of chocolate drops into my face. Instead, she hovered as a cold, broody presence beside me and clung to my leg till it turned numb. Obviously, the ghost was aware of my upcoming departure.

"Sorry, Kat, your hands are icy, you hurt me. What can I do for you?" I'd spoken louder than intended. Beth's eyes widened, and her face paled. The next woman down the line crossed herself. Embarrassed, I reduced my voice to the barest of whispers. It was shaky from the cold seeping into the marrow of my bones, and a sense of betrayal filled my thoughts. What should I tell my distressed, otherworldly friend? "Please, Kat, I can't stay here for the rest of my life. I have to move on. Someone else will take my place. You sure will find another friend to play with."

Suddenly, the ghost left my side. Using the hot chocolate mass as an impromptu slate, Katharina sent me a message. She'd never done real drawings before. The outline of a butterfly appeared in the chocolate, complete with four wings and antennae. Next, she drew with her invisible finger the stick figure of a person.

A woman? Me?

The following chocolate bar was decorated with another, smaller stick figure. She had to draw fast: The semi-liquid substance blurred the images in seconds. On the third slate, the smaller stick figure melted into the taller person. In her haste to finish the drawing, Katharina pushed the form right off the belt. It crashed to the floor: No way to cover this up.

Beside me, Beth gasped. "So it's true? There really is a ghost, and you communicate with it?"
I shivered, not ready to talk about it, not sure if I wanted to consider the consequences, not convinced it was wise to admit what I'd learned to be true. But I had no choice, not anymore. Mentally, I merged the images my invisible friend had drawn. The pieces fell into place, and I understood Katharina's wish. "No worries Beth, this will be the last time these halls are haunted. The ghost told me she wants to leave with me."

I can't remember Beth's reaction or the overseer's scolding while I absentmindedly watched another woman clean the mess on the floor. But I will never forget the cold seeping into my bones, the foreign mind invading my own. Afraid to lose control, I shivered and hugged myself, pulling back. Was I ready to accept the changes this union might bring? I felt Katharina hesitate, sad and distressed by my unexpected reluctance. With a mental shove, I pushed my doubts aside and embraced the ghost's presence.

The cold dissolved. And with a touch as light as the wingbeat of a butterfly, the warmth of gratitude flooded my mind. Filled with awe and endless curiosity, I felt the sudden urge to run, laugh and explore.

~

Sometimes I wonder if I made a grave mistake, back then. In a moment of nostalgia and profound pity I allowed an unknown entity to reside in my head, now and for the rest of my days. If at times my behaviour appears to be childish, it might be Katharina's influence.

But each spring, when the first flowers open their buds to the sun and butterflies flutter from blossom to blossom, I experience the pristine bliss of a lost soul given a second chance. Then I know my spontaneous choice was right. And the child spirit hiding behind my eyes and I marvel together at the precious beauty of this world.