CHAPTER FOURTEEN – In Your Heart
A/N: I don't own South Park or the song lyrics by Warren Zevon in this chapter.
The next eleven hours were the worst version of hell Kenny had ever known. It was unimaginable sorrow broken by periods of nothingness.
Butters had fainted, but Kenny could still feel him being picked up and carried, probably by Stan, and set down on the couch. He came to again just as Stan and Kyle sat down on either side of him. Kenny's dead, Kenny's dead… Butters leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his face and crying. He felt two hands on his back gently rubbing him, trying to console an ache that would not be consoled.
Butters lashed out with his foot, hitting the table as hard as he could. All three flowerpots fell over, one of them breaking in two. He kicked the table again and one of the pieces fell to the floor, dragging a pile of twine with it.
"Butters!" Kyle grabbed his leg to stop him from kicking the table yet again.
"NO!" Butters shrieked, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his face again. "No, no, no…" his voice faded to a whisper. At that moment he remembered the gun upstairs, and knew instantly what he had to do.
Kenny shook his head and whispered desperately: "No, Butters. No!" He didn't see how either of them were going to get through twenty four hours of this. Until this moment, Kenny had never realized that grief could ever possibly hurt this much.
"I'm…going to lie down," Butters said, doing so with his face against the back of the couch. The only thing keeping him from plunging into madness was the knowledge that he could end this. "Can—can you just leave me alone for a while?"
Even though he couldn't see them, he knew Stan and Kyle were exchanging a glance. Kenny felt the first bit of hope when he heard Stan tearfully say: "No, Butters. We all need each other right now. We're not going to leave."
Instead of answering, Butters curled up tighter into himself, burying his face against the upholstery. Kenny could feel him trying to go to sleep, trying to go away, anywhere that this pain wouldn't follow.
Several minutes passed, and Kenny heard Kyle whisper: "Dude. Maybe we'd better call some people and make sure no one shows up later expecting a party."
They felt Stan get up from the couch. "Good idea. I will." Butters felt Kyle's hand on his back, massaging him gently, and heard Stan's muffled voice coming from the kitchen.
"Butters, can I get you anything?" Kyle asked. "A glass of water…anything?"
"Water," Butters whispered. He felt Kyle get up and opened one eye, gauging the distance to the stairs. They were both in sight just inside the kitchen; Butters would never make it up the stairs in time. He would have to wait for a better chance.
Kenny could hear Stan talking quietly to Kyle. "I called Cartman. I figured I'd let the biggest mouth in town know first."
"Do you really think he'll take care of things Stan?"
"Kyle…" Stan's voice was breaking. "He'd already heard. He said the news is spreading everywhere. He promised me he'd take care of the people coming here tonight…you should have heard him Kyle…he's as broken as we are about this."
They returned to the couch together and sat down. Butters sat up long enough to take a couple sips from the water bottle Kyle had brought him, then laid down again. Amazingly, he was able to fall asleep, and for three or four hours there was nothing but silent dreamless blackness from him. Kenny managed to sleep off and on as well.
Around 8:00 there was a knock at the door. Butters sat up, and all the pain and loss came rushing back. Stan and Kyle looked at each other over the top of Butters' head, and Stan sighed and got up to answer the door. He stood staring outside for a moment, then turned to the couch. "Uh, guys…come here. You need to see this."
Kyle looked at Butters, who nodded sadly. Kyle helped him to his feet and together they went to the door and looked out alongside Stan.
There were at least 100 people gathered along the sidewalk at the end of their front yard and spilling out onto the street. Each one was holding a single white candle and a sheet of paper; the candles cast a cheerful glow over the otherwise somber gathering. Kenny recognized practically everyone he knew in the crowd: All their classmates, their employees, Kyle's parents, Stan's parents, his own parents and Karen…and even Kevin was there.
Most surprising of all was Craig Tucker standing a few feet ahead of everyone else holding a guitar, and when Butters appeared, he began strumming it. The group began singing lyrics from the papers they held. Kenny recognized the song; someone had performed it at one of his memorial services a few years ago, when he was dying more regularly and he'd been dead long enough this time to actually have a service. He had liked it so much he had googled it after coming back. It was Warren Zevon's 'Keep Me In Your Heart For Awhile'; Mr. Zevon had recorded it as a gift to his family after being diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Shadows are falling and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for awhile
If I leave you it doesn't mean that I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for awhile
That was all Butters could listen to before breaking down again and burying his face against Kyle's chest. Stan wrapped his arms around both of them, mostly to keep Butters from falling to the ground. The impromptu performance was gorgeous, but Butters just wanted it to end so he could go back inside.
Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for awhile
Butters started crying harder and began pulling himself away from them, trying to get back in the house. Stan said to Kyle with tears in his eyes: "Why don't you take him back inside? I'll go out and talk to them."
Kyle nodded and led Butters back into the living room. Kenny suddenly sat up, terrified. He realized that Butters was alone with Kyle, and that he was in so much agony that he was thinking about kneeing Kyle in the crotch, hoping to incapacitate him long enough to make a break for the stairs and get to the gun before anyone stopped him. Kenny felt Butter's muscles tighten, and it was only Butters' profound sense of kindness that stopped him at the last moment. He couldn't bring himself to hurt his friend that way, so he would wait for another opportunity. They sat down together on the couch, Kyle pulling Butters to his chest and holding him the way Kenny used to.
Butters looked up two minutes later as Stan came back inside the house, followed by Cartman. "Uh, Stan…" Kyle said as Stan went into the kitchen. "Is this really a good idea?"
"Quiet down Jew." Cartman's voice had none of its usual rancor. Stan returned carrying a bottle of water and they approached Butters together. "Who do you think put together that candlelight vigil thing outside tonight?"
Cartman handed Butters a small white tablet which he put in his mouth with barely a glance and swallowed with the water bottle Stan handed him a moment later. "Thank you, Cartman," Kenny whispered.
"You did that, Eric?" Butters asked quietly, wiping a drop of water from his bottom lip.
Stan was nodding in reply. "Craig told me that it was his idea—"
"Hell yeah, I did that!" Cartman snapped. "Do you think you're going to get a hundred of those black assholes together for something like that on such short notice without someone browbeating them into it?" He sat down on the couch next to Butters. "Now get out Kyle. I want to talk to Butters alone for a minute." When Kyle didn't move, Cartman added: "Seriously Kyle…take a break. Go have a glass of milk or something."
Kyle was looking at Stan, obviously thinking that this was a really bad idea. Stan nodded. "Come on dude…it's okay."
Kyle shook his head doubtfully. "All right." He stood up and turned to address Butters. "We'll be in the kitchen if you need us, okay?" Stan and Kyle walked away together; Butters watched them go and then looked back down at the carpet again.
"I can't believe you did that for me Eric," Butters said quietly. "Thank you."
"Do you know why I did that, Butters?" Cartman's bottom lip was trembling. He took one of Butters' hands in both of his. When Butters shook his head 'no' Cartman went on, his voice rough from holding back tears. "Because I have no idea what to say to you! I'm no good at this sort of shit…so instead of trying to say something, I did something instead."
Cartman took one of his hands back to wipe his eyes. "Butters. Dude." Cartman swallowed, fighting to speak. Kenny could barely breathe as he watched. "You know all those times I—" Cartman blinked back tears and shifted on the couch so he was even closer to Butters, squeezing his hand. "Those times I ripped on you and Kenny about…you know. You know that was just me being an asshole, right? I didn't really mean nothing by it."
He squeezed Butters' hand again, not quite demanding an answer. Kenny sat up straight as Butters whispered, "I know that, Eric." Butters' thoughts suddenly seemed clearer.
"And I also know that I'm the last person in the world you want to be alone in a room with right now. So listen up Butters: I'm going to go, and let the hippy and the Jew come back. That pill you swallowed was one of my mom's Ambiens…one of the best sleeping pills on the planet. It's not going to make you stop hurting, Butters, but it's going to knock you on your ass for a few hours, which is where you need to be right now. Go to sleep…and if there's anything you need that those two can't do, just pick up the phone and call me…anytime…and I'll be right over. And I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Butters nodded. Tears were streaming down Kenny's cheeks. Of all people, Eric fucking Cartman had gotten through to him, at least for now.
Cartman stood up, and Stan and Kyle came back. They all three looked at him, and Kyle asked: "What did you say to him, Cartman? He looks…better." Instead of answering, Cartman raised his right fist, thumb and pinky finger extended pantomiming a phone and held it against his ear.
"See you tomorrow Eric," Butters mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear. And Kenny realized he was lying. Butters had no intention of being alive any longer than he had to be.
"Good night, Cartman," Stan said sincerely, and they took their places on each side of Butters as Cartman left. Stan carefully put his hand on Butters' leg and asked: "How're you doing, Butters?"
"I dunno. Okay I guess." He's thinking more clearly, but he's lying, Kenny realized. Butters needed them to believe that he was okay, so they would leave him alone long enough—
"Good. Kyle and I are going to stay right here, as long as you need us. Do you think you want to try to go to sleep?"
"I might…but down here, on the couch, okay?" If they were in bed with him, he would have no chance of getting to the gun. But if they were both downstairs, and he could get out of the room without anyone knowing—
He closed his eyes, and a few minutes later, his feelings began to go numb and soft as Liane's Ambien started working…but they were still there. Butters refused to lie down when they urged him to, wanting to sit up instead. It wasn't long before his chin was on his chest and he was snoring lightly. Kenny could hear it, but nothing else and soon that was gone as well. Every bit of input coming from Butters was gone, the wires were all unplugged, and there was just silent darkness. If he could just stay this way for a whole day…
But something was happening now. If it was vision, it was turbulent browns and grays swirling together as if in some mental cauldron; if it was feelings they were confused and afraid, but it was neither of those. It was Butters, wandering lost and alone through an empty gray wilderness. He was looking for something very important that he had lost, and he had no idea where to begin looking, nor was he even sure what he was looking for.
It was the beginning of a dream, and it wasn't just a dream but a memory: A shovel, digging into the ground in the backyard late at night, a hole deep enough to stand in, Butters digging a hole deep enough that the top of it was over his head. It had taken hours to get this far but the dream had just begun, and daddy was standing at the edge of the hole looking down at him from a long way up, telling him to give me the shovel, you're really grounded now mister, and you can stay there until morning and think about what you've done.
Butters, trying to get out of the hole he had dug, trying to grab onto the top to pull himself up, and as Kenny watched him do this, he started to cry again, because he had somehow forgotten all about this night some six years ago until this very moment. Something had shifted and opened up in his mind, allowing this memory to resurface as if it had just happened yesterday.
The ground was too muddy, and Butters kept slipping and falling back again and again until he finally gave up, curling into a ball on the bottom of the hole, crying but not too loud because daddy will hear and make him stay down there another day.
Kenny…in Butters' memory, he has wings when he first appears…looking down at him in horror. Daddy didn't hear him crying, but Kenny had, and he knelt on the ground, reaching with both arms to pull him out of the hole at 2:00 in the morning. Butters, completely covered in mud and walking the mile to Kenny's house this time because it was a warm summer night and he had all his clothes on, including his shoes. Kenny spoke a nonstop stream of comforting nonsense as they walked, and when they got to his house he led Butters into his bathroom, practically undressed him himself and drew a bath in the dingy bathtub.
Butters, in the tub with his arms wrapped around his shins, face against his knees crying while Kenny gently cleaned his back with a washcloth.
The dream came undone because it stopped making sense; Kenny heard Butters' voice whispering like a demented narrator, explaining why what happened next was impossible.
But…after you got me out of there, and somehow helped patch things up with me and daddy, you and I started having a life together, Kenny! You even kissed me a couple times, and then you got hit by a car. I went to your funeral and cried…and then I forgot—
Butters awoke with a scream. "Oh Jesus!" All his pain came rushing back.
Stan and Kyle grabbed his arms, one on each side. "Butters!" Kyle said. "It's okay…you had a bad dream!"
"Oh God, did I!" He closed his eyes and felt arms going around him. "I dreamed Kenny died…"
Silence.
Kenny buried his face in his hands and wept. "Butters…dude…" Stan tried.
"No, I mean he died when we were fourteen! Oh—" he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "No…that doesn't make sense." They held him while he settled down, all the details of that dream already gone. Time passed, and they backed away only slightly, staying near but giving him space.
Butters kept dozing and waking, his head jerking every few seconds. Stan finally said, "Butters, c'mon dude. Lay down. Kyle—" he looked up at Kyle standing in the kitchen doorway. "Will get your blanket and pillow—"
"Just my pillow please, Kyle," Butters said, surprisingly clearly. "I don't want the blanket." He wants my pillow and the blanket there on the bed for something.
"Sure thing, Butters." Kyle went upstairs, returning a minute later with Butters' pillow. He set the pillow down on the end of the couch, and they urged Butters to lie down, which he finally did, staring at the forgotten piles of stuffing, handmade flowerpots, half-built plushies, and gadgetry from his various projects on the table. None of it would ever interest him again.
Stan sat down again next to his feet and gently rubbed his leg just below his knee. "Go to sleep, Butters," he told him. "I'm going to be right here when you wake up."
Kenny barely noticed Kyle settle on the recliner next to the couch, nor noticed when he and Stan grasped their hands together. Butters closed his eyes leaving only darkness, and that feeling that there was no life left in him anymore, that without Kenny nothing will ever be good or safe or fun again. He dozed again, that Ambien-fueled blackness settling over everything, and for a long time all the pain was gone. Kenny reveled in it, thankful for the brief respite, knowing it would be over again the moment Butters woke up.
Kenny felt a deep feeling of peace settle over him, and recognized it as Butters finally falling deeply asleep for the first time since this nightmare had begun. He felt truly content, truly happy for the first time in almost a day, and knew that Butters was starting to dream again, and that this time he was dreaming of the only thing that could ever make him feel this way again. Kenny saw his own face in Butters' dream, only in a way he had never seen it before: Beautiful, with a soft halo of white light around it. He knew that halo wasn't because he was dead; it was how Butters had always seen him. Kenny wept miserably as he whispered, "Oh, Butters…"
Please, God. Just one more minute. Give him just one more minute.
The dream faded, and Kenny bowed his head. Butters opened his eyes and the pain and awful emptiness came rushing back. With it now though was a new feeling as he looked around himself, one of relief from knowing that the pain would finally be over soon.
Kenny barely noticed that he was now looking down at their living room from somewhere near the ceiling fan. All the sorrow and loss was still there, but there was relief now as well. He could hear the hum of the refrigerator, something Butters hadn't noticed before. Someone was snoring softly. Kyle was curled up on his side on the recliner, deeply asleep. Stan was near the middle of the couch, his head thrown back, also sleeping. Butters was sitting up at the end of the couch closest to the stairs, wide awake, looking at them both.
The huge iron door swung open, letting in the screams of the damned, and Jesus and Satan came in. Kenny knew what that meant and shook his head, pleading as the door clanged shut behind them and they approached.
"Please. No. Don't let this happen—" Kenny buried his face in his hands and wept. "Please…please…" His voice was barely a whisper.
They didn't say a word, just settled onto the cushions on either side of him, and Kenny knew all was lost. He would never forgive Stan and Kyle for letting him down, even if he could die and be reborn again a million times. Kenny felt everything sad that had ever happened since the world began as Butters slowly stood up, careful not to disturb Stan sleeping on the couch next to him. Kenny began crying, then screaming, then finally threw himself on the floor, not caring that Jesus and Satan were watching him as he beat his fists against the cold stone, yelling inhuman cries of anger and sorrow.