Read Online The Butterfly Clues by Kate Ellison - Free Book Online

thought they were happy. Maybe it was just Flynt tricking me into seeing things that weren’t really there.
    Flynt Flynt Flynt. I say his name three times aloud. Flynt Flynt Flynt again. Once more. Flynt Flynt Flynt. I don’t care if people can hear me. I stop and tap my right foot nine times. And then the left, another nine. And then I pull out six hairs. With each one I say his name. Flynt Flynt Flynt Flynt Flynt Flynt. Each a tiny death. Each a sacrifice that will bring him closer to me. Come on come on come on.
    And then I see him—I knew it would work—appearing as if by magic, clutching a plastic bag spilling with trash. “Some great finds around these parts,” Flynt says, as he approaches.
    “I want to leave,” I say. “I want to go. Now .”
    His expression changes. He comes closer to me. “What happened?”
    “I—I don’t like it here. We have to go.” I squeeze my fists, three times and mutter banana below my breath.
    “Wait, what? Lo, tell me—”
    “Now,” I say.
    Find a wall. Tap three times. Banana .

CHAPTER 6
    I think I’m shaking because Flynt puts his hands on my shoulders and starts hushing me like how my mother used to. He leads me back through the secret curtained entrance, where I tap tap tap, banana softer than I’ve ever banana -ed before, and onto the street.
    Flynt says he’s taking me to a better place, a place he knows I’ll like. I try to tell him about what I saw—about the boys—as we pass through the curtained alleyway.
    “Lo, hey, it’s fine, you got spooked. You’re just not used to the way people are around here.”
    “Yeah, maybe,” I say, though I don’t believe it. I’m not so naive as to think what I saw back there was okay—just the way people are .
    “Look, you’ve got to understand. It’s different here. We’ve got nothing to lose. We’re not part of that other world, the dead world of TVs and gadgets, you know? We’re more alive than that. We’re the scavengers. The hawks, way up in the sky, giant wings, swooping down to earth when we feel like it. Know what I mean?”
    Flynt takes a deep breath, watching me, his cheeks growing redder in the cold.
    I stare at his bear ears, then his blue-green-gold eyes. I’m filled, suddenly, with a surge of anger. “And what about when people actually die? Is that part of your twisted version of fun? Does that make you feel more alive?”
    Flynt’s voice grows quieter. “I promise you’re going to like this next spot, okay? No drum circles. We’re almost there.”
    I continue to follow him, even though the anger is still there, low and smoldering. He’s not listening; he doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is beautiful garbage.
    We weave through alleys and tight corners and wide streets until we reach a tall building—tall for Neverland—and Flynt jimmies the lock to a door in back. I tap and I banana in three quick, secret cycles, the anger turning to a hot shame, praying he won’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything.
    Inside it’s dark, though with the door still open I can see the winding staircase a couple of feet ahead of us.
    “Someone rich used to live here, a really long time ago. It’s been gutted by looters. Now all that’s left of this place is the stairs.” He leaps up onto the staircase. “Be careful climbing. There are some loose spots, and some of the stairs aren’t too stable. Oh, and there’s a monster here somewhere, too, a staircase monster. Be on the lookout for creepy tentacles.”
    “I think I can handle it, Flynt.” I follow him up the staircase, picking my way over the broken or missing boards.
    “It would just suck if you were eaten by the staircase monster. I’d probably be investigated in the homicide case sure to follow, and, to be honest, I don’t think the Cleveland police would believe that a Staircase Monster ate you. If they cared enough to investigate around here, I mean,” he adds, and even though his tone is still light, there’s a hard