The Butterfly Box Read Online Free

neatly cut stones of every colour that shimmered as if each little gem contained a small heart of light all its very own. There was not one patch of wood, not even a minute piece, that lay exposed between the mesmerizing crystals. From within, the box appeared to be made solely out of jewels and not out of wood at all, like the core of a crystallized piece of rock. On the floor of the box trembled the delicate wings of a butterfly that varied in colour from a dark ink blue against her body to the palest of aquamarines and finally amber. So delicate were they that Federica placed a finger onto the surface in order to convince herself that they were really stones and not drops of glittering water from some enchanted pool. A strange, iridescent light caused the butterfly to shudder as if about to extend her wings and fly away. Federica moved the box about slowly to see where the light was coming from and at once she was taken by the magical movement of the butterfly who, as she tilted the box, seemed to change from blues to pinks, reds and oranges. She caught her breath and put the box straight again. The butterfly returned to her cool sea tones before changing once more into fire as Federica tilted the box again.
     
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ she sniffed without taking her eyes off the sparkling treasure chest.
    ‘Beauty isn’t always on the outside, Fede,’ he said softly, hugging her. He looked up at his wife who still stood stiffly against the banisters, blowing smoke into the air like a dragon. She sighed impatiently and shook her head before walking out of the hall into the corridor, the smoke floating eerily behind her like a phantom. She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t buy his daughter’s love with presents all the time. But regretfully she knew he didn’t have to buy it at all; he already had it for free.
     
    Ramon stood up and tore his eyes away from the trail of smoke, which, along with the ill feeling, was all that remained of his wife. He looked down at the radiant face of his daughter, oblivious to the tension that caused the atmosphere to quiver with the invisible force of disappointment. He ran a hand over his unshaven face and down his dirty black hair that was long and reached his shoulders. It was hot. He needed air and he needed a swim. He had looked forward to returning home, built it up in his mind, romanticized it. But now he was home he wanted to leave again. Home was always a rosier place in the mirages of his mind. It was better to leave it there.
    ‘Come, Fede,’ he said. ‘Let’s go down to the beach, just you and me. Bring the box with you.’ Federica jumped to her feet, clasped her treasure against her thin chest and, taking his hand, she followed him out through the front door.
    ‘What about Mama and Hal?’ she said, delirious with happiness that she had been chosen to go with him and she alone.
    ‘Hal’s happy with his train and Mama’s with him. Besides, I want to tell you how I found your box. There’s a very sad legend attached to it and I know how you like stories.’
    ‘I love your stories,’ she replied, skipping along to keep up with his lengthy strides.
    Helena watched helplessly as her husband left the house, taking with him the overbearing weight of his presence and suddenly she felt cheated, as if the pressure that had built up inside her chest had been for nothing. The house felt still and somehow bigger than when his powerful body had dwarfed it and she bit her lip in frustration. ‘How dare he leave us,’ she thought bitterly, ‘why can’t he just stick around for once?’
    The midday sun was scorching in spite of the sea breeze that cooled it off around the edges. They walked down the street, passing Señora Baraca’s dog who pulled on his leash and let out a frenzied round of barks when he saw them. Federica told her father how the dog barked all the time because he wanted to run about and wasn’t able to in his small garden.
    ‘Well, let’s take him