by grapehyacinth

I checked my eggs every day. Even during finals. I'd been a butterfly, I laid my eggs, and now I was going to protect my caterpillar babies with my life.

About eight days later, I could see several eggs were clear, and a small caterpillar was wriggling out of one. I gave a yelp of pride and ran inside to my husband. “Roman! Our babies are coming out!”

Roman looked up from the computer. “Corrie, uh, that just sounds weird.”

“But...the caterpillars!” I cried in frustration, pulling him from the computer chair. “Come see our babies!”

Roman sighed. He wanted desperately to be a father. This was not quite the way he had wanted it to happen, however. “I'm glad they're coming out, but I'm–”

“What kind of butterfly father doesn't want to see his babies? Come!”

Reluctantly, my husband followed me outside, and I pointed out the newborn. On a neighboring leaf, another caterpillar was making its way from its egg as well.

“Oh, Roman! Turn me into one too! I want to talk to them!”

“Talk to them? They're caterpillars, Corrie!”

“So? Make me one!”

Suddenly I was on the ground, and my husband towered over me like a skyscraper. He carefully picked me up and held me near his eyes. “Hello my dear insect-wife,” he poked at my new body playfully. “You realize a caterpillar's mother would be a butterfly, not another caterpillar, right?”

Roman, put me down next to the baby. I want to meet it, I said to him in my mind.

He gently placed me on the leaf, and, once I was able to coordinate my many legs, I raced right up to the wriggling brown larvae. Hi, baby! I'm your mother! I felt a such a maternal pull towards the creature. I nudged up against it, wishing I could embrace it. This was my son or daughter! Roman and I were parents! Hello, cutie! I gave it another prod, but the caterpillar hardly responded.

“How's it going down there?” Roman's voice boomed overhead. One of his enormous eyes was right above me, which was kind of spooky.

Things are going wonderfully, I replied, but I realized they really weren't. This caterpillar wasn't doing anything more than existing. I don't know what I was expecting it to do, but it was my child. I guess I wanted it to do something...baby-like.

“Corrie, it's just an insect. It's not going to act human.”

I know that, but...

“You and I were butterflies. We had babies as butterflies. Those babies won't have Corrie and Roman human genes. They'll have insect genes. They're insects.”

But...won't there be anything...different about them?

Roman sighed. “I doubt it...When you're transformed, you're transformed.”

He noted my searching expression. “I guess we'll find out."

***

I walked into the house, exhilarated. My first year of college was officially over! I darted over to Roman, who sat at the computer desk as usual. He was looking back and forth between a textbook and the computer screen.

“All done!” I cried out. “Really and truly!”

He reached out for me, squeezing my side. “I'm proud of you,” he commented without removing his eyes from the screen.

Okay, I was hoping for a more animated reaction than this. “What are you looking at?”

He glanced up at me then, and I could swear he looked a bit worried. “Nothing much. Just reading up on horse care.”

My heart jumped. “Horse care? Is Mom okay?”

“She's fine – she had a little cramp. It's just that, as a person transformed into a mare, I'm not sure what passes for normal when the mare is pregnant.”

I felt that familiar twinge when I thought of what was going on with Mom and Dave, my stepfather. At their request, Roman had transformed them into horses. Now Mom was expecting.

It had freaked me out in the beginning, and I was also a bit jealous. As the days had gone on and Mom and Dave spoke to me, I had come to terms with it, but I couldn't say I was happy about the situation. And horse deliveries were not the easiest. I didn't want Mom to suffer.

“Roman, if there's any question, can't we just...take her to a vet?” I cringed, thinking over my words. “I can't believe I just suggested taking my own mother to a vet.”

Roman stood up with a sigh. “If we need to, we will. They don't need to know that the horse is really your mom.”

***

“Look at them, Roman. They have a little white saddle on them,” I pointed out the caterpillar closest to us. It was nibbling at the leaves like a pro.

“They have five instars, or stages. They call this one of the 'bird poop' instars.”

That definitely was a fitting description of the brown and black larvae. But I was surprised that Roman knew anything about caterpillars.

He blushed. “You know, I had...well, have a life other than transforming, you know.”

“I know.”

“I raised butterflies and moths as a kid. Then, when I was older, I became the butterflies and moths,” he smiled, looking almost embarrassed. Then he cleared his throat. “The caterpillars look that way to trick predators. It's a survival mechanism.”

“Amazing,” I breathed. Yes, my children were amazing. I was so proud of them.

***

Roman and I stood over the sink, the pregnancy test shaking in my hand.

“You see anything yet?” he whispered.

“Not yet,” I gulped.

The air was thick with tension. We wanted this so much...

“It's supposed to be pink, right?” Roman cried out excitedly.

“Yes, but...”

“I see pink! Wait, how do you know...”

I knew very well. There was a minus sign. It was unmistakeable. I wasn't pregnant.

“Well,” Roman shuffled his foot dejectedly. “It usually doesn't happen on the first try.”

Remaining silent, I hugged him, tears forming in my eyes. The way I'd pictured it was happening right away. I was young, healthy...

“There's plenty more time. An infinite amount, if we add in the fact that I can transform us into young people for decades,” Roman grinned. “Now come, let's go look at our caterpillar babies.”

Our babies had shed their skins and were now in their second instar, as Roman had explained. I wasn't overly thrilled about this, however, as I was pretty down about the pregnancy test. I knew Roman was right, and it could take months to happen, but I wanted it immediately.

“Oh, what's that, a cedar waxwing?” Roman said, watching a bird dive towards us. “They're so– Oh, no!”

Before I could figure out what was going on, Roman had become a hawk and was driving away the pretty bird that had dived down and snatched something from a leaf nearby.

I made a little squeak of horror, realizing what had happened. I grabbed the empty leaf in disbelief, searching for a caterpillar that was no longer there. “No...no...Roman! Roman, get it back! Our baby! It ate our baby...oh, God...” I crumpled to the ground in tears.

“Corrie, sh. It's okay.”

A ruffle of feathers marked Roman's return. Still in bird form, he stood before me, stroking at me with his wing.

“No it's not okay! You couldn't save it?”

“It gobbled it down. I'm sorry.”

“Oh!” I threw my head down in angst. My baby was dead. My cute little bird poop-looking baby...

“Corrie,” Roman was now a man, and his arms surrounded me protectively. “It was quick and painless. It's not a person. It's an insect. Insects get eaten.”

“No! It might be an insect, but it's my child too! Oh, I can't take this. Roman, turn me into something else. Please.”

“That doesn't change anything, Corrie.”

“Change me. I'm a crappy mother. Make me something useful.”

Roman sighed, rolling his eyes. “I don't need anything in particular right now.”

“Then make me something that's NOT useful.”

“Like?”

“I don't know! A cube of...lead or something!”

“How about a cube of gold?”

I already felt myself shrinking down. “NO! I don't want to be anything nice!”

“Base metal it is.” Roman pushed his hands down on my shoulders, coaxing my body to square off. My limbs quickly fused and soon I was hardening into a cube on the ground.

“Good,” I said, as my transformation concluded.

“You want to keep your face or not?” Roman picked me up.

“Yes,” I muttered angrily. I liked feeling like this. I was something pointless, yet I was firm and compact. Maybe Roman could use me as a paperweight.

“Let's go inside. I'm hungry.”

Roman brought me into the kitchen and placed me on the table. He turned towards the refrigerator, looking for leftovers. “Anything left from yesterday?”

“No,” I grumbled.

“Hmm...” he looked at me, a piteous look in his eyes. Then they twinkled. “You know, I feel like chicken tonight...” He shrank down into a silly-looking hen and started to squawk around the kitchen.

“Roman, you're not going to make me laugh.”

The hen paused. “I look pretty goofy this way. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let me sulk, please.”

“I could become...this!” He turned into a jester-doll, complete with shiny garish outfit and a hat with a bell on it. He was about three feet high, and he proceeded to jingle back and forth from me to the refrigerator. Eventually he halted to see if he'd had any effect.

“No, Roman. Clowns and stuff like that just make me scared.”

He grew into his human form and settled down beside me, petting at my surface. “Corrie, you can't give up. We haven't even begun, practically.”

“But they killed my baby!” Since I was made of metal, I couldn't seem to produce tears. But I was crying inside.

“Listen, again from my younger days, I think we have a solution.”

“What?”

“Cheesecloth. We cover the shrubs with the caterpillars on them with the cloth. It forms a shelter. Or, even better, we could even snip off some branches and bring them inside so there's no birds around at all.”

I noticed how Roman termed them “the caterpillars” instead of “our children” or “our babies”. That bothered me, but I didn't let on. However, the idea that I could protect them from further harm greatly improved my mood. “Yes! Let's make a little shelter for them! Now!” I forgot I was a cube, and I tried to move. I did jolt a bit, which knocked me to the floor.

“Oh, Corrie,” he laughed, picking me up and placing me back on the table. “You're such a square.” He changed a piece of napkin into some fried chicken and had his meal.

***

Roman was busy setting up a whole caterpillar area in the small screen room we now had attached to the side of our house. It hadn't been there minutes before.

“Don't you need to tell the town that we made an addition onto our house?”

Roman looked up from where he carefully was arranging cherry twigs in a covered vase. “It's temporary,” he said, coaxing a caterpillar off a leaf he'd plucked from outside.

I studied the well-made wooden ceiling. “Doesn't look temporary.”

The phone rang, and I raced inside to get it. It was my stepfather Dave.

“Corrie, can you guys come by? Your mom doesn't feel good.”

Roman called a veterinarian, and he came almost at once to check out my mother. She stood there calmly, flicking her tail, as Dr. Smith examined her. I stationed myself beside her protectively, and Roman and Dave (in human form) were right behind me.

“She's a beauty,” the vet commented, stroking her mane. Dave looked almost jealous at this, which was actually kind of funny.

“You're her owner?” the doctor asked my stepfather.

Dave grimaced. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“Well, he's not into the ownership thing. He sees her more as a companion,” Roman chuckled a bit too airily. I could see right through the brave act, however. He was obviously very nervous about the whole impending ordeal.

Dr. Smith gave him an odd glance and set back to his work.

“Oh, careful!” I cried, as Mom winced when the vet patted her belly.

This time Dr. Smith delivered me the odd look. “Honey, she's an animal. She's built for this. She'll be fine.”

Right. My mother's an animal, I reminded myself, marveling at the fact that I even had to.

“Come on over here, girl,” Dr. Smith walked several steps away and beckoned to her, apparently to see how she was walking. Mom immediately came towards him, practically poking her snout into his face.

“Oh, that's a bit close,” the vet said.

Mom stepped backwards.

The doctor eyed her closely. “She's a smart one. Wow.” He patted Mom's head. That made me cringe too. She wasn't an animal to be petted. She was my mother.

Dr. Smith continued to check her out, and when he got towards her tail, I turned away. I didn't even want to think about him examining her...female parts. I could only imagine how Mom felt about it.

Mom whinnied, and my eyes watered up.

“It's okay, we're done with that, pretty girl,” the vet murmured. “Now let's check out your vitals.”

I turned back to them in relief.

The vet's silence was obviously too much for Roman, and he went deeper into his nervous mode. “So you're name's Smith, too, huh? Any relation to the Smyths that have been here for ages? I descend from them, and–”

“Mr. Smyth, please. I'm listening to her heart.”

Roman's mouth snapped shut. But he was twiddling his thumbs, and I realized he was concerned that they'd see Mom was different from a normal horse.

“Is she okay?” Dave piped up in a high voice.

The doctor glanced up again, shaking his head. “You guys...is this your first pregnant mare? You're so on edge. She's fine. Heart's a bit fast, but that can be a pregnancy thing.”

“But she had pain and cramps!” Dave cried.

The man straightened up, picking up a veterinary bag. “How do you even know that?”

“She...she looked like it hurt her...by her stomach.”

“Cramps can be normal in any pregnancy. She's fine.”

“Thank God,” I murmured. “Thank God.”

The vet visit made me feel a bit better about Mom, but she had many months to go, which equaled more anxiety for all of us.

Meanwhile, the caterpillars were all safely sequestered in our new screen room. I visited them constantly, observing their changes with pride. I often joined them as a caterpillar myself, enjoying a meal with them. Once in a while, Roman came with me.

Today Roman was watching me eat with my children. He chuckled down at me. “Keep eating like that and you'll pupate, Corrie.”

I looked up at him. These leaves really do taste great.

“Yes, but you and all your children are in the last instar. They're storing up for their own non-Roman-induced metamorphosis. Keep going and you'll join them.”

The idea of being locked up in a pupa was not too exciting for me right now. I wanted to be around in case there was any issue with Mom.

Okay, turn me back.

As I grew to my full height, Roman grasped my emerging arm tightly. “Look, Corrie! That one's beginning to make his chrysalis!”

“Oh!” I screeched, waiting for the last bits of the transformation to complete before I moved. I crouched down to where Roman was pointing, and I could see one of the caterpillars hard at work. It had affixed itself to a branch with a bit of silk on either side, and it was beginning to pupate.

Roman and I observed with rapt attention. As the sun began to set, he murmured, “This can take a while.”

“A little bit more.”

The sky continued to darken, and I wondered if caterpillars took a break to sleep when pupating.

“It's the end of the month,” Roman uttered.

“I know. We have to take another pregnancy test soon.”

He very obviously was contemplating my midsection. “Do you feel any different?”

“Well, no, but you usually don't in very early pregnancy.”

“Hm.” Roman lapsed into silence, and I turned my attention back to the leaf. I could hardly see the caterpillar in this light.

A cold breeze blew and Roman shivered.

“How about we go in?”

I balked.

“Corrie, I'm cold.”

“Cold? You're always hot. I'm the one who's always freezing. Here, I'll warm you up.” I put my arms around his neck.

“That's not good enough,” he said. “But we can fix that,” he added mischievously.

I yelped gleefully as he grasped my hands and I grew limp. I was suddenly hanging from his hands, a nice soft quilt.

“There. That's better.” He threw me over his back, twisting my corners around his neck. I didn't protest in the least. I was quite comfy this way.

***

The screen room seemed sadly still and quiet. By now, all our babies had pupated, and they hung there, all thirteen of them, transforming quietly on their own.

I missed them.

“I want to crawl inside and be with them,” I whispered.

Roman studied me. I wonder if he thought I was crazy. “They'll be out soon,” he assured me, but I think he was trying to figure out if I was serious or not. I guess I was in a sense. As much as I could see that these creatures were no different than other insects, I was still their mother. I had given birth to them...well, I laid them as eggs... The point was, I had maternal feelings towards them. I wanted to protect them as they changed, just like Roman did with me.

“When they come out, I want to fly with them,” I murmured.

“Be prepared. They don't always make it,” he reminded me.

I cringed. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Negativity.” Didn't he understand how I felt towards them?

He shrugged. “It's not negativity. It's nature. They're part of it.”

I turned away and retreated into the house.

“Want to be a radish with me for a while?” he called after me.

Paused in the doorway, I twisted back towards him and gave him my best 'are you serious?' look.

“It's fun!” he said in his best tempting voice.

“No, Roman. I don't want to be a radish with you now. I'm taking a nap.”

“Your loss.”

***

We both stood staring at the pink minus sign that was swiftly coming into view.

I made a deep sobbing sound and threw the test onto the bathroom counter.

“Sorry, Corrie,” Roman said. I could tell that he was going to try to cheer me up again, and I didn't want to hear it.

“You know, I could change that stick into one that has a positive on it.”

For some reason, this got me really angry. “What for? It wouldn't make me suddenly pregnant!”

“No... but...”

“But what, Roman? This isn't some kind of game!”

Now it was his turn to be angry. “I know damned well it's not a game, Corrie. I've wanted to be a father for 85 years!” He re-thought this a minute. “Well, maybe not since I've been born, but...well, maybe 65 years, give or take a few.”

He had a conciliatory expression on his face, but I remained hard. “I don't need the silly comments, Roman. They don't help. What if there's something wrong with me and we can't have kids?”

My husband's usually-sparkling eyes darkened. “What if there's something wrong with me, Corrie? Have you thought of that? Considering I'm ancient?”

“But you're physically a young man!”

“So, who knows how fertile transformed people are?”

I gulped. I'd never thought of this. “I had babies as a butterfly. You...fertilized them...”

“Yes. Yes I did,” he said thoughtfully. “And I don't know why we're even talking about this. We've only done this twice. It can take months. Years, even. We don't have anything to worry about.”

***

I spent that night as a radish in the garden. It sounded ludicrous, but sitting there in the warm soil beside Roman (who was a very impressive vegetable) was calming. We kept to ourselves most of the time, me in my world of depression and he in whatever state he was in. That was the problem. I wasn't sure how upset he really was. After only two months, I knew it didn't necessarily mean there was a problem, but I was worried, and I wasn't sure if he really was. He was pretty good at covering up his emotions when he wanted to. Especially when he wasn't a person.

***

The butterflies were emerging!

Roman and I stood together, he gazing at them happily, while I clapped my hands, exclaiming in pride. Five had come out early in the morning and were now pumping up their wings on branches. Several more were fighting their way out of their chrysalises.

“Interesting how they're all coming out around the same time,” Roman pointed out.

“I told you they're more than just insects! They're very smart!”

“Actually it's a chemical thing and a weather thing. It has nothing to do with intelligence, Corrie,” Roman explained. “Sorry,” he added, noting my downtrodden look.

We watched for a while until only one chrysalis was left. Of course I grew worried. “You think it's dead?”

He scrutinized it. “I think it's darkening. Don't you see some yellow and black through it?”

If I really stared, I was able to make out something like a wing design, but I wasn't certain. “I can't have another one die, Roman.”

“Corrie, it's fine.”

“It's taking so long. The others are getting ready to fly.”

“Corrie, give it a few minutes and then we'll come check it.”

God, didn't he understand how I felt? “How can I just walk away?”

He lowered his eyebrows enticingly. “I'll let you take a bath in me.”

I perked up. “As the tub or the water?”

“Your choice.”

“Be an extra-bubbly hot tub.”

“Absolutely.”

Roman was huge. I mean, when I went into the bathroom, he filled up most of it. “Step in and I'll start up my jets!” The hot tub said. He had given himself a face on the side, and it was admittedly comical.

“Roman,” I couldn't help laughing. “I'll get lost in you!”

“Sorry!” the tub shrank down to maybe twice my size. “Good?”

“Fine.”

“Here I go!”

As I stripped off my clothes, my husband filled up to his brim and his jets began to bubble out water. “Come on in! I'm just right!”

And he was. He bubbled around me, massaging my skin and touching me in all the right spots. You couldn't find a better hot tub than Roman Smyth.

***

“Oh, Roman! Oh!” was all I could gasp. When we stepped into the screen room, there was a cloud of butterflies flying about. The last one was pumping its wings frantically, as if to keep up with its siblings.

“They're beautiful! Oh, my babies!” I was weeping, and Roman placed his arm around me.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because they're going to leave me!”

“But isn't that what you want? A mother wants her kids to go into the world, find love, have their children... Don't you want to be a grandmother?”

I smiled thoughtfully. I knew his mind was not on being a grandfather to butterflies.

Roman opened the door to the outside. “Shall we let them free?”

I gazed around the screen room. “Get rid of this whole room. Forget the door.”

“I kind of like having it. Good place to lounge in.”

“Please, Roman.”

The room fizzled away around us, and we stood outdoors. Strangely enough, the butterflies remained in a cloud that now hovered around me.

I threw my arms up in joy. “Oh, see, I told you! They know me! They know I'm their mom!”

Roman smirked. Maybe he felt I was right, but probably not. I didn't care.

The butterflies remained there for several seconds, and I relished the sight, taking in their beautiful yellows and blacks. “Go, babies! Go be free!”

They rose into the sky, and I watched them disappear into the clouds. Then I really started to cry.

“Look, you still have a friend left.”

The last butterfly that had come out had alighted on my shoulder. “Oh!” I exclaimed in delight. It pumped its wings and quickly took off.

“Roman?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We both became butterflies and accompanied our last child into the world.