The Butterfly Conspiracy (5 page)

Chapter 5

It was
four fifteen
when the bus pulled into the Escanaba bus depot. Not so much a bus depot really, but a small room tacked on to a bowling alley. Two bars and a diner were conveniently located across the street, but at this time of morning, everything was closed.
 
A lonely cab was parked just across from the bowling alley.

Stephen joined four other passengers as they stumbled out of the bus, all half awake.
 
He stepped into the bright fluorescently lit room and looked around for his uncle.
 
It had been several years since he had seen Uncle Phillip during a brief visit to
New York City
, but Stephen didn’t think he would have any trouble recognizing him again.

Just as he had determined none of the people in the bus terminal could possibly be him, the door swung open and Stephen recognized the man walking in.
 

Uncle Phillip stood 6’2” with closely trimmed blond hair.
 
He sported a California tan, which made him stand out in the midst of the pale mid-westerners around him.
 
Stephen remembered him as being very outgoing and he always seemed to have smile on his face.
 
Stephen strode up to him.

“Hello, Uncle Phillip.”

Phillip took a second to respond.
 

“Stephen, is that you?
 
My, how you’ve grown.
 
I was looking for someone much shorter!
 
It’s been about thee years, yes?”

Stephen remembered his uncle’s slight German accent.
 
“Yes, I think it has been that long.”

Phillip reached down, “Let me help you with your things.”

Phillip grabbed one of Stephen’s bags and they walked to the car.
 
He opened the trunk of a Porsche and tossed in the bag.
 
   

“Tonight we stay at the House of Ludington Hotel.
 
I think you will like it.
 
It’s on
Lake Michigan
.
 
I knew you would be tired, so I thought it would be best that we didn’t drive the 120 miles to Grand View this late.
 
Too many deer.”
 
Phillip gave a laugh, “And I drive too fast in this fancy car”

Paulie ran over to the waiting cab.
 

“Where to, Mister?” the cabbie asked.
 

“Follow that Porsche”.

Stephen jumped into the car and froze.
 
“Uncle Phillip, see that man talking to the cabbie?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t believe this, but I think he’s been following me this whole trip.
 
All the way from Penn Station.”

“Stephen, is that so?” Phillip asked with a look of disbelief on his face.

“No, I mean it.
 
Even another person I met on the train thought so and that was before we even arrived in
Chicago
.
 
He followed me when I walked to the Art Institute and now he’s here in Escanaba.”
 

“Well, I guess it could be.” Phillip said, noticing his look had upset his nephew. “But, we do get visitors from all over the world to our beautiful
Upper Peninsula
every now and then.”
 
Phillip paused for a moment.
 
“Is there a reason why someone would be following you?”

Stephen thought for a moment, “Well, no…”

“What I think is that you must be very tired.“

“I am.”

“Okay, so you get a good night’s sleep tonight.
 
Tomorrow we’ll keep a watch out for anyone following us back to the house.
 
What do you think of that idea?”

 
“That sounds good” Stephen was reassured by his Uncle’s words.
 

Phillip put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
 
The cab slowly followed through the darkness, keeping a discrete distance.

Chapter 6

The next morning, Paulie was already sitting in a rental car when Stephen and his uncle finished breakfast and pulled out.

It was a beautiful morning with a clear blue sky and the temperature was a brisk sixty seven degrees.
 
Paulie watched as Phillip walked Stephen across the street to the lakefront.
 

“There’s much history in this area,” Phillip said. “I can imagine French explorers paddling their canoes in this bay, with Indians watching from the woods.”

On the drive out of town, Phillip pointed out Little Bay De Noc.

“The fishing is very good here.
 
We should go sometime.” Phillip mentioned.
  

Remembering Stephen’s concern from the night before, Phillip periodically glanced into the rear view mirror to see if anyone was following them.
 
He didn’t notice anything unusual.

    
“Are you ready to spend your summer in the forests of
Upper Michigan
?” Uncle Phillip asked.
 
“I hope you don’t get bored.
 
It’s not like the city, there really isn’t much to do.”

    
“I’ve brought my sketchbook and Dad told me about your huge library and the theater room.
 
I’m sure I can keep busy.
 
Do you get any visitors from
Hollywood
?” Stephen asked, remembering his dream of being surrounded by actresses.

    
“Now and then, but most of my
Hollywood
friends find the area too isolated and out of the way.”
 
 

Stephen was a little discouraged.
 

“Did you hear about my girlfriend?” Stephen asked.

“Yes, your father told what happened when we talked about your trip to visit me.
 
Women, very difficult.
 
Don’t I know” Phillip shook his head.
 
“But we get on with things and live to see another day.
 
I think you staying here with me will help, right?”

Stephen nodded, “That’s for sure, this was a great idea”.

After an hour of driving, Stephen watched as the forest got thicker.
 
The green leaves of maple and beech were replaced by dark green needles of fir and pine.
 
Stephen could actually smell a fresh pine scent seeping into the car.
 
Small streams and bogs appeared on both sides of the road.

Stephen turned to his uncle.

“How did you end up here in northern
Michigan
?
 
It seems pretty remote.”

Uncle Phillip laughed, “Good question.
 
That’s the same thing my
California
friends ask me. I was born in
Germany
, in the
Kahle
Forest
area, which was named after our family.”

“Did it look like this?”
 
Stephen asked.

“Yes, the land was very similar.”
 

“What made you come to the states?

“Much luck. Stephen.”

“What do you mean?”

 
In my late twenties, I had made a few low budget pictures in
Germany
that got noticed by some Americans when they were screened in
France
. From that, I was asked to
 
direct a small project in
Hollywood
.”

“Did you like it when you first came over?”

“Oh my, can you imagine?
 
A young man working in Germany one day and then in California, the next.
 
The first few years in California were exciting, but after five years, not so much.
 
I missed my homeland and the forests. I longed for a quiet retreat. Something similar to where I was raised.”

“So how did you find this area?”
 

“At the time, I was a fan of Hemingway’s books, yes.”
 
He had written a story called ‘Big
Two-Hearted
River
’ that was about this area.
 
I came to check it out.
 
Then I feel like I’m back in
Germany
.
 
So I buy some land.

“Is that river close?”

“Only about fifty miles away.
 
We need to go sometime and I can show you.”
  

“How long do you stay when you come up here?”
 

“That depends on how busy I am with my movies.
 
I try to get here the first part of June and stay until the end of September.
 
Usually I have to make a trip or two back to
Los Angeles
to keep up with business.”
 

Phillip pointed to a sign.

“Blaney Park.
 
We turn here.
 
Only forty miles to go.
 
I’m sure you are ready to end your journey.”

“It will be nice to stop living out of a suitcase,” Stephen agreed.

Phillip glanced up at the rear view mirror.
 
He was careful not to be too obvious and catch Stephen’s attention.
 
A blue Ford had left Escanaba when they did and followed them, turn for turn.
 
Phillip had purposely sped up and slowed down to see how the car behind would react.
 
The blue Ford had always remained about the same distance behind, no matter what speed Phillip was traveling.