I looked at Raven, who then leaped out of bed,
threw on her robe and followed Crystal and me to
Crystal and Butterfly's room. There was Butterfly
with her legs pulled up and in, her hands clenched into
fists, her eyes shut so tight the lids looked sewn
together. Her lips were pursed stiffly, her nostrils
quivering with her heavy breaths. We looked at each
other. Butterfly went into these catatonic trances more
and more lately. It didn't exactly take a rocket scientist
to figure out the reason. She was lonely, fragile, afraid
of rejection. For her, going into this trance was like crawling into a cocoon. Crystal, our resident child psychologist, said Butterfly was trying to return to the womb. Raven thought she was nuts, but I understood. I never said anything, but I sometimes wished I could
go back as well.
I shook Butterfly's upper arm and her whole
body moved as if it were one frozen piece.
"Butterfly, come on. We're all here. Stop this,
now. You know what's going to happen. Gordon or
Louise is going to come in here and see you and call
for the paramedics or something and then you'll end
up in some looney ward."
I shook her again, but there was no response.
Crystal stepped up beside me.
"We need to join," she said.
I looked back at the door.
"Shut it, Raven."
She did so and the three of us surrounded the
bed, Raven and I on one side, Crystal on the other.
We looked at each other and then as if we were all
going under water, took deep breaths and leaned over
so that all our heads touched. Linked this way, we
began our chant. It was our secret ceremony. "We're sisters. We will always be sisters. One