THE CATERPILLAR

*

''Who are you?'' asked the voice.

''I'm a caterpillar.''

''How do you know you're a caterpillar?''

''I've been told so.''

''What do you do?''

''I crawl on the ground.''

''Why do you crawl on the ground?''

''Because that's what I'm made for. That's what caterpillars do.''

''How do you know?''

''I've been told so.''

''By whom?''

''By others.''

''And you believed them? How do you know they were right?''

''Because...''

''What if they were wrong?''

''?''

''Do you like being a caterpillar?''

''It's OK, I guess.''

''Just OK?''

''Well, I don't particularly like crawling on the ground.''

''What would you like to do instead?''

''I... I would like to fly. I would like to be a butterfly!''

''What if someone told you you are a butterfly? And you can fly? Would you believe them?''

''Well... maybe...''

''All right then: you ARE a butterfly! And you CAN fly! You just need to transform.''

''I am a butterfly,'' said the caterpillar mesmerized, ''and I can fly! I just need to transform!''

The caterpillar lifts its head up and looks at the sky. A robin bird flies down, opens his beak and swallows the caterpillar.

''I'm a bird. I eat caterpillars. That's what birds do,'' said the robin to himself proudly, hopping around with his belly full.

A cat jumps from the bushes and grabs him with her teeth.

''I'm a cat. I hunt and kill birds. That's what cats do,'' thought the cat. ''But I'm not hungry. What am I going to do with this bird? I know! I'll bring it to my mistress. That should make her happy. I love my mistress.''

''What did you do?'' shrieked the woman at the cat. ''You wicked creature!''

''She's having a bad day again,'' reckoned the cat, saddened.

*

''I'll have to put the bell around this cat's neck,'' thought Karen while burying yet another bird in the backyard, ''that way these poor birds might have a chance.''

Karen puts away the shovel and goes back to the house.

''Are you living the life of your dreams?''

''No,'' Karen answered the question that popped on the screen in front of her while she was searching for new and exciting recipe for roasted duck.

''Do you feel trapped and your life doesn't seem to change, no matter what you do? Are you constantly stressed and exhausted from your daily routine? Do you suffer in silence and the joy of life seems to elude you? If your answer is 'yes', click on the link below.''

Karen clicks on the link. Just for the sake of it.

''You've made the right choice! Join our 3-day online seminar 'Get in Tune with Your True Self' and take the first step towards the life of fulfillment and joy! We are here to help you find the path! Take this week's special offer for only 99,99...''

Karen closes the add. She's not that naive. Not anymore.

''Mommy, mommy, I'm going to be a ballerina!'' Her chubby 6 year old daughter burst into the room making clumsy pirouettes. She bumped into the furniture a few times while dancing.

''Be careful, Marie! You don't want to hurt yourself!''

''Look, daddy! I'm a ballerina!'' Marie cried out spotting her father at the door.

''Oh my!'' said Roger. ''Do you see this, Karen? We have a ballerina in the house! Come over here!'' Roger puts down his briefcase, lifts Marie above his head and spins her around. Marie screams with laughter.

''He's still so strong, he can lift her like a feather,'' Karen thought watching them.

*

Roger wants to have sex.

''Not tonight, honey. I'm too tired,'' said Karen and rolled over in bed, turning her back to him. He looks at her appalled. She never turned him down before. Not once. Not when she was tired, not when she was angry with him, not when she was in pain. Oh, the pain. Karen learned to live with it over the years. It danced around her body, sometimes in her stomach, sometimes in her back, sometimes in her head. And sometimes there was nothing, just some undefined, unsettling feeling in her chest. ''That's where the soul is,'' her late grandmother used to say.

''You must always keep your husband satisfied,'' her mother told her once, ''otherwise he may go to another woman.''

''He can go if he wants to,'' Karen told off her mother in her mind before falling asleep.

*

''Would you like me to read you a book?'' Karen asked Marie.

''No,'' Marie replied and kept playing with her Barbie Doll.

''Just for a little while?''

''I don't wanna...''

''Why not?''

''Cos it's boring!''

''But it's 'Alice in Wonderland'. It is not boring!''

''Let her be,'' Roger said, looking up from the newspaper.

''I loved books when I was her age,'' said Karen.

''Not every girl is meant to be like you. Some of them just want to play with their dolls.''

Karen named her daughter after Marie Curie. She let Roger believe they named her after his grandmother Mary. She was a common woman. ''Maybe 'Mary' would suit the child better,'' thought Karen bitterly, ''it's plain enough.''

*

''Mommy, mommy! I will be going places!'' yelled little Karen, ''I'm going to be an explorer!''

She had just finished reading the book about Marco Polo's marvelous journey to China. Her father gave it to her for her birthday.

''I will go to China, and Afrika, and Brazil...''

''No, dear,'' said her mother, untouched by her daughter's excitement, ''you are going to get married and be a mother. Your brother, he can be an explorer.''

Disheartened, Karen looked at the little boy rolling a plastic truck up and down the corridor, uninterested in their conversation. Moreover, uninterested in anything else.

*

''My mistress is not well. She needs to heal. I shall purr for her. That should make her feel better,'' thought the cat and curled up next to Karen.

That day, after Roger took Marie to school and went to work, Karen couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. Neither in her legs, nor in her mind. The doctor said there was nothing wrong with her. She just needed to relax and take some vitamins.

''Look mommy, a butterfly!'' yelled Marie, smitten with the beauty of the red admiral sitting on the yellow iris. Karen opened her eyes. She was resting in a garden chair, wrapped in a blanket. She looked at the butterfly. His colors shined in the sun as he repeatedly opened and closed his wings, like in a slow motion.

''Did you know that butterflies become from caterpillars?'' Karen asked Marie.

''No,'' said Marie, ''how?''

''One day a caterpillar goes to sleep in a cocoon and when the time comes, it wakes up as a butterfly!''

''Wooow!'' Marie was fascinated. ''And that happens to all the caterpillars? Every single one of them?''

''Yes. Well, not every one. Only the ones that get to live long enough to be transformed.''

''You mean, some of them die before they become a butterfly? And they never get to fly? But, that's cruel!'' Marie said exasperated.

''That's nature. That's just the way things are.''

Marie frowned. They sat in silence for a while. The butterfly flew away. An uneasy feeling crawled back into Karen's chest. Not every caterpillar gets to be a butterfly! Is she going to be a caterpillar forever? Never get to fly?

*

Karen is sitting on the terrace drinking her morning coffee. She's watching the sunrise. The air is crisp, she can feel the freshness of oxygen filling her lungs.

Last year Marie left for college. She followed a boy there. ''At least she'll get her education,'' Karen said then, trying hard not the question her daughter's motives and life choices. She and Roger are divorced. He remarried. Although the solitude at that age frightened her, she felt some kind of relief when he left her. He let her keep the house.

Karen gets up and heads to the garden. In the company of her zucchinis and tomatoes, strawberries and carrots, she managed to forget about her pain. Consequently, the pain forgot about her and stopped visiting.

She bends down and starts picking the weed. And then, there it was! Big, fat, hairy caterpillar, nibbling on her biggest head of cabbage. Karen grabs a scoop to kill it. But, for some reason, she hesitates. She looks at it closely. It's brown hair sparkled in the sun and shined in dozen of nuances while moving around. Never before did she notice how beautiful they are.