WHEN CATERPILLARS TURN INTO BUTTERFLIES
By Robert Mauro
Polio had left Clark's body bent and twisted. He'd
occasionally look at himself naked in his bathroom mirror. To
him his body was skinny. It was gaunt. Gnarled.
It wasn't that he wanted to be Mr. Universe. Clark just
didn't want to look like some ninety-pound weakling. So he tried
everything he could to gain weight. He drank dietary
supplements. He ate fatty foods. He devoured energy bars and
pasta -- lots of pasta. But nothing worked. So he buried
himself in his work.
Clark wrote poems, short stories, novels. He sold some but
never enough to make him feel successful.
Each morning he'd step carefully into the shower and think
of all the beautiful women he had seen that week. They were
everywhere. On TV, in movies, on the streets, in stores. And
they walked with a sensuality that made his heart race. He could
feel them touching him. Caressing him. Hugging him. He even
imagined them loving him. But they didn't. They didn't even
know he existed. Oh, a few had smiled at him in passing. But
none wanted him. He was not what they were looking for, or so he
thought. He didn't have the body. He wasn't a hunk.
* * *
Kate had been trying to lose weight. It wasn't that she
wanted to look like a supermodel. She just wanted to be a little
slimmer. Everyone said it was a lot healthier than being
overweight. So each morning before her shower, she'd
occasionally stand naked in front of her bathroom mirror
assessing her body.
Being thin was often on her mind, at least back then. The
beautiful body she had had as a teenage girl, a young woman, had
metamorphosed. Inside, Kate still felt young and sexy. But no
one could tell that by just looking at her. At least that's what
Kate thought.
She shook her head and stepped into the shower. She may not
have felt beautiful, but she was clean. Neat. She cared about
her body. She had always taken care of herself. No one else was
these days. Certainly not Harry.
As she soaped and sponged her soft skin, her face and
breasts, Kate's mind wandered. She thought of when she and Harry
had first met, before they had married. There was such fire in
their bed. Their passion had scared her. She had never had such
intense orgasms. Her whole body had shaken with those spasms of
ecstasy. Then something had happened.
Eventually Kate and Harry had stopped making love. They had
even stopped talking. She wasn't sure which came first. But
they were no longer sleeping together. Their relationship had
changed. She'd come home from a long day at work looking for a
little love and affection, a little tenderness, and all she'd get
from him was, "Want a beer?"
"No," she'd say and go to her room.
They had separate rooms and separate beds.
In the shower Kate would touch herself the way Harry had
once touched her -- or the way she had once wanted him to touch
her. But she'd be thinking of someone else. It would be some
gorgeous man she had seen on the street, in some movie or on TV.
He have no name. But Kate imagined him exploring her every soft,
wet nook and cranny. He'd touch her with his hands, his fingers,
his lips and his tongue. He'd finally pick her up in his
muscular arms and carry her off to her single bed. He'd stand
over her and strip off his clothes. He'd smell of her favorite
cologne -- and not of beer.
Her fantasy lover would be hard. Very hard.
He'd enter her with a passion and they'd make love. No, it
wouldn't be just sex, but love. Real love. And she'd come and
come and come...all alone in the shower.
* * *
Clark had felt alone back then. But his work had kept him
busy. His sense of humor and his positive attitude came out in
his plays, which he sold to various small publishers. These
skits and comedies were staged in regional theaters and schools.
He dreamed of having one of his plays on Broadway, even off
Broadway. But with his disability, it was hard to hang out with
the literary crowd. So he didn't. He stayed home and he wrote.
His painting and writing filled the hours. His reading
helped fill his mind. But, back then, no one filled his heart.
Oh, he had dated. But nothing ever came of those relationships.
So he'd go back to work creating the dreams on paper he wished
for in real life.
* * *
Kate had felt totally alone back then. She had felt
unloved. Unwanted. Undesirable. She had felt so sad, she had
wanted to cry. But she didn't. She would not cry. Never. She
would not give Harry the satisfaction. Or anyone.
She had finally left Harry. She had moved into her own tiny
apartment, which came with a broken stove and an immense rent.
It had a galley kitchen, a hideaway bed, and a small bathroom
with a mirror on the back of the bathroom door.
She had been dieting. But she was still...not slim. And
those pills she had been taken, and which had started to work,
had been recalled by the FDA. So even that was gone. She soon
put back all the weight she had lost.
* * *
Clark didn't work entirely at home. He also worked as a
consultant for a local disability organization. He had gone to
college with the director and they had been friends for over
twenty years. She had asked him to work for her right after
college. So he wrote the organization's PR, edited its first
newsletter, set up its mailing list and initial computer filing
system. All and all, Clark managed to keep busy.
Working outside his home had also helped him from becoming a
hermit. But then Clark was too sociable for that. He had been a
ham radio operator since childhood. He talked to people from all
over the globe.
What Clark wanted, however, was someone to talk to right
here and now. Someone to hug. He wanted a lover. He had never
given up on finding someone to love. He had kept his positive
attitude. He'd never give up on finding love. She'd come along
one day. Sometimes these things just happened out of the blue.
* * *
One day, out of the blue, in the building where Clark's
disability organization had a suite of offices, Kate stepped into
the elevator with him. He glanced at her briefly. She smiled.
He smiled back. He'd never seen her before. There was silence.
They were alone together. He could smell her perfume.
"Nice day," she said, smiling.
"It sure is," he replied, smiling back.
He always felt good when someone talked to him. Although he
could walk a little, he needed a motorized wheelchair to get
around. As a result, most people ignored him, especially in
small confined spaces like elevators.
And then the elevator door opened and she walked off, "Have
a nice day," she said, giving him a little wave.
Who was she? She was about his age. And she had this
adorable smile. Who was she? Was she visiting a doctor in this
office building? Did she work here? Clark had never seen her
before. And he had worked here for twenty years.
Why was Clark thinking about that woman he had seen in the
elevator? Was it because of the way she had waved good-bye to
him? Was it her perfume? Her smile?
* * *
A few days later there she was again. She exited the
elevator as Clark waited for it.
"Hi," Kate said.
"Hi," he said.
"Spring is finally coming," she said, once again flashing
that adorable smile.
He nodded. He was thinking that he had to act. He had to
get to know this woman. But how?
"Going up?" she asked, holding the elevator door for him.
"Er...no. You work here?" he asked.
"No. I was up at the dentist. Fourth floor. I have bad
teeth."
Shit, she thought. Why had she said that? This guy was
smiling. Was he laughing at her? Did he think she was
overweight? Did she care? Did he?
"I hate the dentist," he said. "Well, actually he's my
dentist too. And he's a really nice guy. But still..."
"I know what you mean," she said. "Anyway, I just started
seeing him. I moved here a few months ago. So...you work here?"
He nodded. Well, this led to more conversation, then coffee
and eventually a movie. And one day Clark and Kate ended up in
her bed. Neither was quite sure how that had happened. Was it
his kiss? Her smile? The way he made her laugh? The way she
made him feel happy? Handsome?
* * *
The morning after Clark and Kate had made love, she got up
to take a shower. Suddenly she looked at herself in the mirror.
She stepped back in shock. What had happened to her? She was
beautiful!
"Oh, my God!" she cried.
What had happened to her? She was voluptuous! Gorgeous!
Perfect! Was she still in bed with Clark? Was this all some
crazy dream? No. It couldn't be. She pinched herself.
"Ouch!" she yelped.
Kate couldn't take her eyes off her beautiful nakedness.
Her body was perfect. She was like the young girl she had once
been. Was it the passion Clark had made her feel? The love she
had felt?
Suddenly Clark joined her in the bathroom. He put his arms
around her waist and kissed her lovingly. They were both naked.
Clark glanced in the mirror and was startled when he saw his
reflection. His body was perfect! Straight. His gnarled form
had been transformed into the naked physique of some Greek god.
He had muscles and was not disabled at all! Was he dreaming?
What had happened to him? Then he looked at Kate.
She hadn't changed at all. Kate looked exactly the same as
she had always looked: beautiful, and with that same adorable
smile. He knew he loved her.
Kate looked at Clark and wondered why he hadn't changed as
she had. He was still as handsome as she had always seen him.
He smiled at her. She adored him. And she knew she loved him.
That morning they woke up in each other's arms. Both were
naked. Both were smiling. They hugged each other very tight and
kissed.
In fact, neither had changed at all. They were still the
same beautiful, loving people they had always been. Yet, from
that day forward they were never really the same. Something had
transformed them.
As Clark and Kate held each other close that Spring morning
so long ago, she had said something to him -- and Clark had never
forgotten those words: "This is the season when caterpillars turn
into butterflies."
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