Butterfly by Sylvester Stephens Read Free Book Online Page B

him. But I couldn’t because he was behind those bars.
    When I first walked in, I thought he did not remember who I was. He spoke to Dr. Forrester but did not say a word to me.
    â€œHey, Doc,” Dad said. “How’s life out there?”
    â€œNot much different from in here,” Dr. Forrester joked and handed the telephone to me. “I brought somebody to see you, man.”
    â€œHi,” I said.
    â€œOh wow, man! Look at you. You’re taller than me. My little caterpillar is turning into a beautiful Butterfly,” Dad said. “Do you remember when I used to call you my butterfly?”
    â€œYes, Daddy.”
    â€œDo you remember anything else about me?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWhat do you remember about me?” Dad chuckled.
    â€œI remember one time when I was little, I had a dance recital and you were out of town. I asked you if you could come. Mommy said you were too far away to make it back in time. It was raining and thundering and I just knew you weren’t going to make it. But after the recital, I saw you standing there with my flowers in your hands. I was so happy I didn’t know what to do! Now! Do you remember that?”
    My father may have been hard to the rest of the world, but he was like a marshmallow when it came to me. “Yeah.”
    â€œAnd I remember that time when I was sick. I think I had the measles or something like that,” I said. “You remember that?”
    â€œYeah,” Dad said. “I remember that, too.”
    â€œI remember when you had to wear sweaters, and T-shirts, and long pants, because you didn’t want to catch the measles. I was sleeping on your lap for like five days.” I laughed. “Mommy kept telling you to put me down, but you wouldn’t. You spoiled me!”
    â€œHow do you remember all that?” Dad said. “You were a baby!”
    â€œâ€™Cause you my daddy!”
    â€œI’m sorry, Butterfly,” Dad said. It looked as if he wanted to cry, but I did not see any tears. I wanted to tell him so badly that it was okay for him to cry if that is what he wanted to do. “I should be out there protecting you, but instead, I’m in here locked up.”
    I truly believe my father tried to be the best father he could. But he was who he was, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not separate parenthood from the street, even when I was little. He was always apologetic for his lifestyle. That got on my nerves then, and it still got on my nerves.
    â€œWhy are you talking like that?” I asked.
    â€œBecause,” Dad said. “I’m letting you down.”
    â€œYou’re not letting me down!” I said. “You can’t change what you’ve done, Daddy. All you can do is pay for what you did.”
    â€œI can’t believe you even want to see me.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I want to see you?“
    My father lowered his head and waited before he responded to my question, even though he did not answer the question I asked. “Are you going to come back and see me?”
    â€œYeah, why wouldn’t I?” I asked. “You’re my father.”
    â€œYou promise?”
    â€œWait a minute! I promise on one condition,” I said. “I’ll come back if you behave yourself while you’re in here and get paroled so you can be my daddy like you’re supposed to.”
    â€œOh, so you’re giving orders now?” Dad turned to Dr. Forrester and cracked one of his lame jokes. “She’s trying to blackmail me, man.”
    â€œRight! I sure am.”
    â€œIn that case, I guess we got a deal.”
    â€œYou better keep your promise, too, Daddy!”
    â€œI always keep my promises.”
    â€œWell, we better be going, Shante,” Dr. Forrester said.
    â€œOkay.”
    Time had flown by and I was not ready to leave my dad just yet. I probably could have stayed a month and I still would not have been