Tintin: When a Black Butterfly Comes
A sandy-haired young man slowly opened his eyes. He looked around and saw nothing around him. He began to feel afraid, which confused him at the same time. He rarely felt afraid, but in this place… he didn’t know what (and why) goosebumps appeared in his skin so easily.
“Hello? Anybody there?” he called. “Hel…?”
Suddenly arms pulled him into a tight hug. The young man couldn’t see whose arms those were, but the hug was warm and he let himself lost in the hug. His arm slowly sneaked out to hug the person back. He gasped when he realized that his shoulder was wet, the other person (he found out rather quickly that he was a man) was crying.
“Why… why are you crying?” the young man asked, shocked and utterly baffled.
The man on his shoulder shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself, lad. Don’t blame anyone for what I did.”
He released his tight grip on the young man’s body and looked up, staring at the moon. And that was when the young man could see the man’s face. The man was familiar, but he couldn’t form out at least a name. The man’s eyes were dark and red because of the crying earlier.
“Who… who are you?”
The man tore his stare at the moon and looked at the young man. He sighed. “I’m someone you will hate, my boy.”
**
“Success! He’s opening his eyes!”
It was the first thing Tintin heard when he slowly opened his eyes. “I... where am I... what’s happened?” he looked around and immediately knew where he was. “The rocket...”
“Don’t worry now,” Baxter knelt and soothed him. “You’re safe and sound... back on earth.”
Tintin sat up abruptly. “Safe and sound... back on Earth? On Earth?” he asked, disbelief clouding himself. “Is it really true? But... the others? And Snowy?”
Baxter blinked and took his arm. He looked like he wanted to say something, but since he couldn’t, the doctor who knelt next to him spoke. “The professor and the detectives are out of danger, so is Snowy. But...”
Tintin held his breath. “But?”
“Your friend the Captain... alas, his condition is far more serious...” he said, staring at Tintin’s ashen face. “And I fear...”
“What... what are you trying to say?” the young man finally managed a croak out his mouth. “Wh-where is he?"
“He’s over there,” the doctor answered. “On that stretcher.”
“Good heavens!” Tintin shouted as he jumped out his stretcher. His vision was clouded by tears. “The Captain! It’s not possible!” he staggered to the stretcher the doctor had pointed at. He could see a silhouette of messy black hair and blue jumper. “Captain!”
He fell on his knees beside the stretcher. “Captain! Captain! It’s me, Tintin!”
Haddock didn’t even budge. Tintin froze when he touched Haddock’s cold hand. “Captain! My dear Captain, please, please, wake up! We’re back home! Captain, Captain!”
Baxter came and touched his shoulder, but Tintin was too caught up to notice. The old doctor took Haddock’s hand and his face twisted. “Alas, Monsieur Tintin. Last time I checked him, his pulse was irregular, and very weak... And now....”
“No... no sign of life... do you believe that...?” Tintin let out a dry sob.
“But what more can you expect?” the doctor asked, shaking his head. “The man’s heart is truly worn out. But it’s not surprising, if what they tell me is true. It seems like he was a great whisky drinker.”
He was a great whisky drinker. Tintin gasped as he began to panic. He looked back at Haddock’s pale face.
“Captain!” he shouted, voice hoarser from the earlier shouts. “Captain, wake up! The doctor said whisky, Captain! You love them, don’t you, Captain? Wake up, and you’ll have them! Loch Lomond, Captain, remember? The rum of Jamaica from the Unicorn, you love it, Captain! Please wake up, just wake up! I’ll drink those whiskies with you, Captain, as long as you wake up!”
Tintin shook the sea captain’s hand as he screamed all those words, time seemed to be meaningless for him. Snowy barked and people were crowding him, but Tintin couldn’t bring himself to notice. He continued to shake the limp hand as hard as he could, tears finally streamed down his face.
Suddenly the hand Tintin was shaking began to move, stopping the wide-eyed Tintin. The pale, cold hand slowly crept out his grip and blindly reached to the lad’s face. Haddock’s hand stroked the tears from Tintin’s face before the lad heard a soft whisper. Or at least he thought he heard.
“I’m sorry, mon Tintin.”
Tintin gasped as the hand dropped limply to the stretcher.
“CAPTAIN!”
**
Captain Archibald Haddock’s Christian funeral had been a very quiet one. Tintin refused to talk, even when he knew that he could. Castafiore was the one who did, and surprisingly didn’t mess up with the captain’s name. She referred Haddock as a very handsome man with a great heart. Captain Chester and some of Haddock’s friends did the same, retold their happy times together. Surprisingly, Chang was also there, and he did spoke his gratefulness on being rescued by Haddock and Tintin from the cruelness of Tibet.
“Tintin.”
The young man looked back and saw the professor, who suddenly aged two decades older after the sea captain’s death. He wore the hearing aid as his respect for the dead captain, who kept calling him ‘a daft, hard-of-hearing genius’. The professor’s face was pale and grim with grief. “Yes, Professor?”
“You... you don’t know how much I regret this,” Calculus said quietly. Tintin came toward him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It was my idea, Tintin! If he-if both of you-didn’t want to go with me to the moon, he would still be laughing here.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Tintin said softly. “It was mine.”
Calculus looked up. “How could it be?”
The young man looked at the quiet grave in front of them. Both of them didn’t even realize that the rain was beginning to fall and Tintin’s tears had streamed on his face. “He refused to come. I forced him.”
**
“To the moon, Captain!”
“Blue blistering barnacles! I said no!”
“To the moon, Captain!” Tintin repeated. “Everyone with a sane mind will...”
“If you think sane people will go to the moon, you’re calling me a madcap.”
Tintin huffed. “I’ve never considered someone as a madcap, Captain, especially you. But this is once in your lifetime, Captain!”
“I don’t care if this is a chance of my lifetime!” Haddock snarled at him as he began to pack his clothes into his brown suitcase.
“What if…” Tintin stopped. His smile grew as he remembered their adventure between the madness of Tibet mountains. “I’ll go alone then.”
As expected, the sea captain stopped packing. His eyes were wild. “Do you think I’ll repeat my mistakes like I was in Tibet, hey landlubber?”
Tintin began to panic. He didn’t want to have this grand adventure without his best friend on his side. “I don’t think I get what you are talking about, Captain.”
Haddock sighed angrily. “Leaving you behind just before you found that Heaven-Boy! You could be eaten by that carpet creature, what was it named? And you think I’ll leave a lad like you wander alone on the crates of the moon? Count me in!”
Tintin smiled widely.
**
In the realm between life and death, a bearded man sat quietly on a stone. He put his face between his hands, groaning. A man in a green suit and a concerned face approached him.
“What’s wrong, Captain?” the man asked, his tone was as concerned as his expression. The bearded man, Captain, looked up to him, his eyes narrowed. He knew that he would meet this man here, but he didn’t expect it to be this soon.
“Wolff,” he called softly as the man sat next to him. He looked up at the moon, followed by Wolff. “Do you know how to take care of Tintin from here?”
The other man sighed. “What’s happening out there, Captain?”
Captain didn’t even look at him. His eyes still fixed on the moon as his mind playing some visions of a certain lad and his dog, walking on the crates of the moon. “Just… want to keep that mindless landlubber safe.”
Wolff, surprisingly, just laughed lightly. The sea captain snapped his head and stared at him. “What’s so funny?” he asked sharply.
“It’s always like that, isn’t it, Captain? You taking care of Tintin, watching when he was going to hurt himself.” he said, before crossed his arms. His face was serious. “I used to believe that we can let some of us live near people we love.”
“And?”
“I let some to take care of my stepsister.” Wolff said darkly. “I’ve been disappointing her… when I was still alive, I mean. She is much happier now, and that’s enough already. Actually I’m quite ready to leave.” He stopped and stared at the captain. “You know what I mean.”
“How do you know?” Captain asked, shaking his head. “I mean… this confounded place is too…”
Wolff stood and offered his hand, a small smile on his face. “Come on, Captain, I’ll show you where I can see her.”
They walked in a dim, but wide street before a small lake was visible to their sights. Wolff sat in front of it, the captain next to him. They stared into their reflections before Wolff suddenly dipped his hand into it and the view changed.
It showed them a small family, with a smiling mother holding her daughter. Her husband came and hugged her from behind. They looked like a small, happy family. “Her husband liked to gamble with me. He used to hit her, but I didn’t have any idea until several days before we went to the moon. I told him that if he hits her again, I won’t forgive him. I also said that I’m watching him if I die. He understands.”
Wolff suddenly pointed at the wall and the captain saw a small black butterfly on the wall.
“That’s…”
“It’s the small part of me. My brother-in-law knows about it, and he decided to make things better for him and his family.”
Wolff dipped his hand and the happy family disappeared. When he lifted his hand again, a new view was displayed, and Captain had to gasp.
**
A blue paper was ripped, and an unusual enraged Cuthbert Calculus threw it on the floor. The remnants of the blueprints joined other ripped papers on the floor in his laboratory. He walked toward the small table on the corner and stared at the things on it.
His hand reached the miniature of an orange rocket before threw it away, didn’t care of where it landed. He faintly heard the small object hit the window and broke the glass (maybe he needed to fix his hearing aid-again). He brutally pushed aside the books and papers before stood still in front of a small photograph.
Calculus slowly picked the photo and stared, his ferocity dissipated as quickly as it appeared. The photo was taken when Haddock had opened his Maritime Gallery. The three of them (four with Snowy snuggled comfortably on Tintin’s lap) were surrounded by things they had found in their journey…
“Professor?”
Calculus looked back and saw Tintin on the doorstep. His eyes seemed unfocused… Calculus mentally hit his head. Tintin’s eyes never looked focused since the death of the Captain. And he never looked healthy anymore, though, and Calculus knew that he was no better. Tintin’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair and appearance were more than messy.
Although unfocused, the reporter didn’t even flinch when he saw the destroyed laboratory. “It seems like you’re blowing this place.”
“I’m out, Tintin,” he said simply. “Milan is waiting.”
Tintin only lifted his eyebrows. “I’m staying here. I can’t leave, and I don’t want to either. There’s no other home for me. Send Signora Castafiore my regards.”
Calculus stuffed several books and papers into his bag before nodded at the lad. They left the laboratory and now were staring at it, wary clouded their expressions. “Does that place safe already? No dangerous chemical or something left?”
“Yes.”
Tintin simply walked behind a tree. At Calculus’ worried face he smiled weakly. “I’ve make sure this won’t be dangerous. You want this, don’t you, Professor? We don’t need to do this if you…”
Calculus shook his head and pulled out something behind the nearest tree. He threw it to the wall and watched as the whisky bottle shattered, smearing the alcohol on the wall. Tintin watched him with a blank face, but he slowly followed, his eyes started to water.
“I hate you, Captain Archibald Haddock!” he screamed, throwing another whisky bottle. Calculus had backed away, watching the emotional side of the usually stoic reporter. Tintin ran around the small house, throwing other whisky bottles and screaming words. The old professor had to cringe. Those words-those “I hate you, Captain!”-weren’t things Tintin would say out loud.
Calculus could hear a bottle of whisky was thrown against the glass and the sound of it broken made him bit his lips. He looked up. The moon was shining brightly, and both of them knew that this night would shine much brighter. Tintin suddenly stopped running and panted for breath, tears running on his cheeks. “Done, Professor.”
“This is the place where I started dreaming about the moon,” Calculus said softly, but anger evident in his voice. He picked the small lighter from his pocket and gave it to the reporter. “And one of my closest friends didn’t survive the grand journey. Dreaming kills.”
A strong smell of smoke filled the air as Tintin lighted the smoke in his hands. He didn’t even take any single hit; he simply threw it toward the practically whisky-covered laboratory.
The fire immediately burned the laboratory, and the two men only stared at it as their dreams were burned down as well.
**
When Chang Chong-Chen walked inside of Marlinspike Hall, he didn’t expect himself to see a chaotic house. No, the house itself was still standing proudly, but the inside was indeed chaos. Chang opened the unlocked door and was shocked when he saw pieces of glass on the lobby. The house itself looked silent and… and dead.
He carefully walked into the living room. Captain Haddock’s voice rang through his ears, telling him where the room was. He had dreamed about the captain’s death a week ago, just three days after the funeral. He had gone back to China at that time, but the dream made him come back.
Well, no. Not only the dream, as sad as it was. It was a certain black butterfly which flew into his house, the day he got the dream. Chang was no believer of myths related to animals or any other things in that matter, but Didi was, and said that the butterfly could mean something. He was right, of course.
“Tintin?”
When he saw the living room, he gaped.
Everything was a mess. The telephone was crushed, as if someone had thrown it against the floor. There were many ripped newspapers on the floor, and a stinky smell of alcohol startled Chang. He knew that Tintin didn’t drink; he wouldn’t want to, anyway. But when he looked at the corner, next to the fallen big portrait of Captain, Tintin, and Snowy, there were broken glass, scattered there, and from the liquid smeared near it, Chang knew that a bottle of whisky had broken.
After spending some time gaping at the disastrous room, he could see Tintin. He sprawled on the settee, sleeping. He looked much worse than the last time Chang saw him, in the funeral. Tintin looked skinnier, sicklier looking, more exhausted. Chang slowly approached him, wanted to wake him up before stopped himself.
Tintin was hugging the captain’s jumper, easily recognized since Chang had seen it so often. Tear tracks were visible on his cheeks, but his breathing was low and steady. It seemed like he had slept long enough. But that wasn’t the only thing that stopped Chang from waking his friend.
It was the small, black butterfly which perched on Tintin’s shoulder.
**
“It smelled like whisky and past adventures.”
Tintin was staring at the fireplace, while Chang was staring at the now clean living room. The reporter was still hugging the thick, blue jumper. His eyes were blank, but Chang could hear distress in his voice. Snowy curled in his lap, licking his hand lovingly, giving the reporter more support in his own way.
“But sometimes… I can feel him, Chang. I can’t see him, but I know he’s there.”
Chang wanted to say things about the black butterfly (Didi’s ramblings had gotten into his head, it seemed), but he knew it would be useless. Tintin, just like him, was no believer of myths. He was a true realist, and both of them knew that.
**
Tintin was reading the newspaper, oblivious of the shattered room around him. He hadn’t done it for quite a long time, since every newspaper he had read put the huge photo of the Captain on the front page. He ended up ripping all the papers he had received. Nestor couldn’t stand anymore, so he left. The professor had left too, burning down all his achievements.
If Chang hadn’t come, maybe he was already out of his mind now. Only he and Snowy stayed, being loyal friends they were. Tintin closed his eyes and opened them again, only to see another drug smuggler in action. He didn’t remember the details, but he knew that this was one of his usual adventures.
He knew that Chang knew; his Chinese friend had read the newspaper earlier than him and his expression couldn’t be mistaken. He wanted Tintin to recover. And if those near death adventures could make him back to his feet, those were things Chang would give. Tintin knew that deep inside his friend, Chang was similar with Captain, loved travelling but didn’t have any interest to be a do-gooder. Tintin knew nobody, but Snowy, who could compete his thirst of adventures.
The question was: could he?
**
Wolff approached the captain, his eyes bright with joy. “You’ve been there for ages,” he said. “Something worked?”
Captain only stared at the lake. “My plan worked.”
“You mean going to China first instead of Marlinspike?” Wolff asked. “I never think it will work.”
“His best friend lives there,” Captain said shortly. “Now at least Tintin has someone who can take care of him. I see that something is happening. He needs his blasted adventure.”
Captain dipped his hand on the water and the view changed, showing the dark bedroom, but their eyes could spot Tintin, who was sleeping on the bed silently. A small black butterfly perched on the nightstand.
“He’s recovering, that little ginger landlubber.”
“That’s a great thing, Captain!” Wolff answered, obviously too chipper for a (dead) man around his age. Captain had to look up at him, utterly baffled. “And?” he asked curtly.
“You know we can’t stay here forever, Captain. Are you ready to leave?”
“What?!” Captain rose to his feet.
Wolff merely shrugged. “We’re in between, Captain. Between life and death, we have unfinished business with us. And since mine is already finished, and yours too, we have to leave.”
“But… but… the…?”
“Butterfly?” Wolff asked; his face suddenly darkened. “It will always be there, Captain. Whenever people you love need you, a part of you will be there for them. Captain, we don’t have much time, we can disappear completely if we’re staying.”
Captain bit his lip. “Wait. I still need to talk to Tintin.”
**
A scream below the moon. That was the only thing Tintin could hear, the only thing he could see.
He gasped, stopped hearing, stopped seeing. And then he realized.
It was his own scream.
“I HATE YOU, CAPTAIN!”
It sounded like the invisible walls echoed the scream, and Tintin broke down. He collapsed on the dark floor, sobbing like a little boy, before something pulled him into a tight hug.
“I told you, you’ll hate me.” The man’s voice said quietly.
Tintin pulled himself away from the hug and gaped at the other man. His mind finally could form a word, a name. “You… Captain Haddock. You’re here. You’re here.”
Haddock kissed his head and pulled him closer. “Listen, lad. You don’t need to stay if you don’t want to. Cuthbert left, and you can do the same.”
Tintin shook his head. “No… I can’t. Great snakes, Captain, nothing can replace Marlinspike.”
Haddock was speechless, but he managed a smile before said, “I… I understand. Marlinspike is yours now. Go find my will, it’s written there.” He walked backwards. Tintin tried to reach out, but Haddock stopped him. “Tintin, take care of yourself. I’m out watching your fanny.”
Tintin didn’t need any expert to sense some finality in his best friend’s words. He backed away immediately. “But, Captain…”
“No. I can’t stay here and stare at the blasted moon forever. Don’t look at me like that!” Haddock snarled at Tintin’s twisted face and glassy eyes. “Thundering typhoons, don’t you dare shed your tears for me, no, not again! You’re not supposed to cry!”
Tintin’s face grew hotter. He wanted to argue, but suddenly the captain’s tone changed, into a soothing one. “Now, now, I know you’re as strong as a mule, you can take care of yourself just fine. And your Heaven-Boy too, don’t forget him. I don’t bring him into your disastrous house for nothing.”
“What?”
“He’s with you because… never mind. The point is, he’s staying with you, Tintin.” Haddock said, then paused. “Blistering barnacles, lad, I’ll miss you. Well… I have to go. I’m sorry if I ever hurt you, but please… don’t hate me, for the Navy’s sake, don’t you dare hating me. I saw you shouting those hateful words to me... when you burned Cuthbert’s laboratory, and...”
“Captain, I don’t hate you. I can’t.”
Haddock didn’t reply, merely closed his eyes. After some agonizing moments for both of them, the sea captain spoke.
“Remember, Tintin, when a black butterfly comes, your best friend is there with you.”
And that was when Tintin woke up.
**
“You’re done?”
Captain managed a small smile. Wolff smiled back and patted his back. They left the lake, into a dark path in front of it. “Now we’re ready to go.”
As the paths disappeared, as well as the shiny moon, Captain asked the other man. “Why are you staying, then? After you died?”
Wolff’s laugh was faint, but his words didn’t, even though they began to disappear as they walked to the darkening path. “If someone else didn’t survive the journey from the moon, at least I can help him.”
Behind the disappearing men, the moon shone above the lake, which showed a young lad, lying awake on his bed, his white dog on his feet.
A small smile plastered on his face.
**
“Tintin, we need your help.” Thompson said, his tone quiet.
“We know that we’ve asked this before, but still… do you want to? There’s a drug smuggler out there, and we need someone who can go to the base under cover.”
It was very unusual to have Thompson and Thomson sitting on the living room (which was clean this time, Tintin didn’t want to ruin it again), pleading a cooperation with Tintin. Chang sat next to him, and Tintin knew that his friend was hoping that he would take it. It used to be Tintin rushed into the base alone, carefully and recklessly at the same time.
The reporter looked around the room. When his eyes caught something small and black on the wall, he smiled widely at the three other men.
Remember, Tintin, when a black butterfly comes, your best friend is there with you.
“So, detectives, where is the base?”
**THE END**