The Butterfly Conspiracy (2 page)

He was looking forward to going to a different part of the country, no matter where, to see if he could add some new specimens to his collection.
 
Paulie also packed a bag containing his butterfly net, a small jar of alcohol, some pins and a few wax trays for mounting his collectables. Paulie considered this to be his “secret hobby”.
 
No one else knew about his passion.
 
It just didn’t fit with the type of work he did.
  

Penn Station was busy.
 
After ten minutes of walking through the crowds, Al pulled Paulie aside and nodded
 
towards a family huddled together talking near a marble column.
 

“That’s them over there, the kid in the blue shirt. That’s the kid you need to keep track of. The kid’s name is Stephen Moorehouse and his parents are loaded.”

Paulie stared at the kid.
 
The kid’s blue shirt was exactly the same color as the Karner Blue butterfly he had been looking at in his Kensington guide just that morning.
 
It was the next butterfly he wanted to hunt down for his collection.
 
Paulie had made a mental note to head up to
Saratoga
, one of the few remaining places in
New York
this butterfly could be found, to see if he could find one when he got back. Now this kid shows up wearing a blue shirt exactly the same color.
 
This must be a sign.
 

Paulie laughed.
 

“What’s so funny?” Al asked.

“Nothing, just something I was thinking about.
 
I better go get a ticket,” Paulie said, turning toward a row of ticket booths.

“That’s a great idea, Paulie.
 
So where’s the ticket gonna take you, genius?” Al glared at him.

Paulie turned back to Al with a befuddled look.
 
“Oh, yeah. Where’s the kid headed?”

“How do I know?” Al said, his voice rising over the din of the crowd. Several travelers diverted their path to make room around Al and Paulie.
 

“You just jump on whatever goddamned train the kid gets on.
 
Then give the conductor twenty bucks and tell him to keep the change.
 
He ain’t gonna throw you off the train.
 
Remember, not a word about this to anyone.
 
You understand?”

“I get it, I get it.”

“This is just our little conspiracy, just between you and me.
 
Don’t go talking like some big shot about what you’re gonna do.”

Chapter 3

 
Stephen glanced back to see his parents disappear into the crowd.
 
He walked down the crowded platform, looking at the signs.
 
The huge engines on the silver clad trains were making the platform vibrate.
 
He double checked the sign.
 
‘Train 49, Lake Shore Limited’.
 
Stephen felt his pocket to make sure the wad of tickets his uncle had sent him was still there.
 
Stephen joined a line of people handing off their luggage to a porter and boarded the train.
  

As the train moved out of the terminal, Stephen spotted his parents as they made their way out of the crowd.
 
Fingers pointing, exchanging loud words, they were arguing all the way back to the cab stands.

Stephen walked down the aisle and settled into a seat next to a window.
 
He put his jacket and the sketchbook he always carried with him on the empty seat next to him, along with his carry on bag. He leaned back in his seat and checked his watch.
 
Three forty-five, right on time.
 

It had been his idea to take the train.
 
Now that school was over, he had the whole summer to himself.
 
A train ride to
Michigan
seemed exciting and adventurous.
 
He had spent all of his life in
New York City
except for the occasional trip to
Europe
with his Mother and Father.
 
This would be a great experience to see some of the country side, and besides, he needed to get away.

It would be nineteen hours before the train rolled into
Chicago
, so Stephen had brought a few things to keep him busy.
 
He had his sketchbook, of course, along with a few magazines, a book and a “Welcome To RISD” pamphlet.
 
He would be starting classes at the Rhode Island School of Design in the fall and he had wanted to read up on the school before he got there.

Al and Paulie watched as the kid got on the train.
 
    

“Good luck, Paulie. Al said, slapping him on the back. “Don’t disappoint the boys on this one.”
 

Paulie walked to the train car, turned to wave at Al, and disappeared into the doorway.
 
Paulie walked down the aisle, spotted Stephen and took a seat a few rows in front.
 
Thankfully, Al had given him a newspaper and every five or ten minutes, Paulie would peer over the top to make sure his “little butterfly” was still in the same place.

About five o’clock Stephen tossed down the RISD pamphlet.
 
He pulled a wrinkled envelope from his pocket and took out a letter.
 
He had read the letter so many times, he could recite it by heart.
 
Hhow Jill, his girlfriend for three years, wrote how she was not going to be backpacking though
Europe
with him for the summer, as planned.
 
She explained how she had met another guy, Ralph, and was going to be traveling in
Europe
with him this summer instead.
 

As he got to the part where Jill wrote she hoped he would understand and that she still wanted to be friends, Stephen stopped, folding up the letter and sticking it back into his pocket.
 
He picked up his sketchbook.
 

As long as Stephen could remember, he was constantly sketching. He knew the train would be an excellent place to do some character studies, wondering if passengers in
New York
would look the same as passengers in Chicago.

 
“Excuse me, can I take a look at your magazine?” A man sitting in the aisle seat asked him.

“Sure,” Stephen replied, tossing the periodical over.
 
A close-up picture of a giant shark’s head was on the cover and the magazine featured a story about the new movie ‘Jaws’ that had just come out along with information about all the other summer block buster movies.
 
Stephen wondered if there was a movie theater where he was going.
  

He began to sketch.
 
His car was about one-third full.
 
Most of the travelers appeared to be businessmen.
 
There were a few families and one or two single women traveling alone, but Stephen saw mostly businessmen in suits.
 
He occupied the next hour sketching the passengers around him.

“Here’s your magazine back, thank you.
 
Oh, that’s quite good!” Stephen glanced up.

A short, pudgy man, wearing an obvious toupee, sat in the aisle seat.

    
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been watching you draw,” the man said, leaning over an empty seat between them.
 
“I think you are quite accomplished. Say, I’m heading to the dining car for a cup of coffee and something to eat.
 
Care to join me?
 
Maybe stretch your legs a little?”
 

    
“Sounds like a good idea.”

  
  
The pudgy man rose from his seat and motioned for Stephen to follow.
 

Walking down the aisle, the man turned to Stephen, “I’m Dominick, but everyone calls me Dom.”

    
“I’m Stephen. Nice to meet you, Dom.”

They walked through another passenger car on their way to the dining car.

A waiter appeared and Dom ordered two coffees.

    
“So, Stephen, what puts you on a train headed for
Chicago
?
 
I thought young people only flew these days,” Dom inquired.

    
“They do if they’re in a hurry.
 
I’d rather take some time and have the opportunity to see some of the country. And after watching the news on TV about the Eastern flight 66 crash, I’m glad I decided to take the train.
 
I’m headed to
Chicago
first, then picking up a train to
Milwaukee
and then taking a bus to northern
Michigan
.”

    
“That’s quite a trip.” Dom said, “So what’s in
Michigan
?
 
Must be a girl, eh?” he smiled.

    
Stephen felt a twinge and Dom could see he had struck a nerve.

“No, I’m staying at my uncle’s house in Upper Michigan for the summer.”

Back in the passenger car, Paulie glanced over the top of his newspaper.
 
What the hell?
 
Two empty seats greeted his gaze.
 
The seats where Stephen and the fat guy with the cheap toupee had been sitting in were now empty.

    
Paulie stood up and looked around.
 
He frantically eyed the train car.
 
Where was the little bastard?
 
He had to be on the train somewhere.
 
Was he in the restroom?
 
Maybe, but not likely since the guy sitting next to him was gone too.
 
The dining car?
 
Paulie glanced at this watch.
 
Five fifteen, yeah, almost dinner time.
 
They had better be in the damn dining car!

    
Stephen could see the waiter heading their way with

two cups of coffee on his tray. A large swarthy man in a suit that seemed way too tight came barreling down the aisle and nearly pushed the waiter over.

The waiter stumbled backwards, then to the side. He leaned over to regain his balance as he steadied himself and the tray.

The swarthy man threw himself into a booth on the other side of the aisle.
 
 
He buried his face in a newspaper and shot a quick glance at the booth Stephen and Dom were sitting in.