Half a yellow
notebook. Pocket-sized. Thick, judging by the half lying in the grass. That
hard lemon cover kissed the surrounding green. Where was the other half? An act
of violence stole pages. Rapid. Strong. Evil?
Depends on the contents.
Perhaps a non-violent act stole
pages. That still left rapid and strong. Evil? Proceed with caution. He
listened. Trees creaked. Leaves rustled. Only rustled? If the leaves start
tinkling, you’ll have the answer to a question you don’t feel like asking.
He knelt on his left knee and fished
a silver pen from his camouflage jacket. The pen went under the hard lemon
cover as though the writing implement’s owner wanted to defuse a bomb. When his
eyes hit the words, the handwriting, explosions went off in his head. Expletives.
Mom and dad were poor.
The diarist had found time, in all
the chaos, to tell as much of the story as she could before someone (come on,
SOMETHING) grabbed the diary and interrupted the narrative flow. Her brother
was an Evil Genius™. Mom and pop were abducted by aliens. Gran had a thing for
sweaters.
There’d been an outbreak of metal
plants. Gold, no less. He took the time to read everything. A normal person
wouldn’t make the attempt to understand any of it. He wasn’t a normal person.
No. He was an Evil Genius™.
Backtrack, smart guy. How did you get
into this mess, and why does everyone think you are so evil? Could it be that
you are actually evil? You’re certainly in a mess. Not under as great a storm
as your sister faces. She should have contacted you immediately. The poor girl
was trying to solve half a puzzle from this end. Not so long ago, an Evil
Genius™ was up to similar antics in the Top Secret Lab®.
*
“So, Mr Sexy Evil…”
“Priorities, Wanda. Evil, then sexy.”
“Uh, yeah. Actually, I agree. Evil.
Therefore, sexy. Your vile ways are forcing me to slide my arms around you from
behind. Being heroic, I’m meant to strangle you and save the day. Saving me
from myself. But this wicked aura of yours is turning my heroic effort aside.
And I’m going for cuddles instead.”
“Yeah. I’m reprehensible.”
“Is that a fancy word for buff under this lab-coat?”
“Mm.”
“What are you cooking up here?”
“Checking soil-samples from home.
It’s not home. From my sister’s uh…neck of the woods.”
“Neck.”
“Quit that.”
“Okay.”
“Not so fast.”
“Okay.”
“This distraction may cost me the
Nobel.”
“Well this distraction feels that she
needs to distract her secret boyfriend
from…”
“Secret? Everyone in the lab knows.”
“Your family? I want to meet them.”
“Gran would like you. There’d be a
chill in the room. Generated by me.”
“Oh. And sis?”
“She’d be shocked to discover that I
put in the time to snare a girlfriend.”
“As would I. You just used that
patented Girlfriend Attractor™.”
“Yeah. If only I could iron out the
kinks and have the contraption attract a decent
female…”
“Hey!”
“One who isn’t Groucho.”
“Grouchy.”
“What you said.”
“Jamie…why not just go hi-tech and
update me into your life on Facebook?”
“Then I’d have to post photos of you.
And no one would believe I’d plumped for a redhead.”
“You mean no one would believe you’d
plumped for a girl.”
“Ow. Where’d that come from?”
*
Mm. Where indeed. Dragging Wanda into the picture was in the bad decision category. She was there when he’d made the discovery. Standing wide-eyed as he threw on his jacket and declared that he had to go back home immediately. Without telling anyone.
*
“I have to go now. No one must know. I can’t phone ahead. That would be suspicious. I’ll just turn up and confirm my findings. It’s nothing. I’m sure everything will be okay. If I don’t come back, think well of me. They’ll paint me as evil, and seal off the streets. In that order. But…think well of me for trying to do the right thing. Whatever the hell that is. It’s nothing. My drama. It’s nothing.”
“Yeah? Then why do you look as though
you discovered a new disease a decade-too-late to do anything about it?”
“Not a disease. And not new. My
sister may be in danger from…contamination.”
“Then telephone.”
“Scaremongering won’t help.
Gran…might not take the news well.”
“You look shaky. Too intense for this
to be nothing. Let me drive you there.”
“I don’t want your involvement to
cloud my plans.”
“Pack in the action-movie machismo,
Jamie. I’m driving. And you are going to sit and explain.”
*
But he hadn’t explained. They’d taken her jeep and waltzed through an irrational hailstorm that was straight out of BIBLICAL times. Wanda half-expected toads to fall from the sky. The jeep growled in a traffic snarl-up that planned to last until the gas-tank gave out. She eyed Jamie, partly for selfish reasons. He had that Chris Hemsworth Mancandy thing going for him, after all.
The drumming on the roof matched the
patter of her pulse. He was messing around with a tablet of his own design, checking figures. Ah hell, there was no
adventure ahead of them. Just milk and cookies with the folks. Awkward hello moments. The inevitable question.
So. Wanda. Do you dye your hair?
“Explain yourself Jamie.”
“I’m an Evil Genius™ with a devious
taste in a well-turned ankle and a cool understated approach to my wild secret
passion for redheads.”
“Wow. And all the scientific
techno-babble you are studiously avoiding?”
“Local soil-conditions matched to
climate-change brought about by man’s inhumanity to the environment may have
resulted in the development of…”
“Why don’t we avoid that part?
Something is growing in the woods back home. Killer mushrooms. So dangerous
that we daren’t actually phone ahead and warn anyone.”
“Yeah.”
“Dangerous, but not that dangerous.
Though dangerous enough to warrant a look-see.”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder your folks think you are
some kind of Evil Genius™. Acting all mysterious.”
“I was too busy kissing a redhead to
further my plans for World Domination. There’s secrecy and secrecy. Besides, if
you’d been a passing fancy…no need to update Facebook.”
“Ah, the Evil Genius™ resurfaces.”
*
Jamie skimmed the half-notebook again. Obviously, the mysterious figure in the woods had been Wanda. They’d hit town late. He’d wanted to get straight to the root of the problem. Hell, if there were roots, there were leaves by now. The expedition hadn’t gone down well.
*
“Don’t shout her.”
“Who was that? Your sister?”
“Let her go. You scared her.”
“If you’d called, she’d have
responded to your voice.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe that would have
scared her too.”
“Scared her even more?”
“Mm.”
“If you’re a serial killer, just tell
me now.”
“I’m a teddy killer. In what little
spare time I have, I murder stuffed toys.”
“Lowest of the low. I’m taking you
in. Back to the jeep, anyhow. Are we going to hit a hotel?”
“No. Let’s rough it in the jeep.
Better if we tackle the problem in daylight.”
*
The problem was getting Wanda to find a hotel while Jamie stocked up on supplies in town without bumping into Jessica. He filled a bag with essential goodies, and spent the morning cautiously testing the woods. No sign of Jessica. He kept missing her. (Wind carried her voice away from him.) Lunch with Wanda was strained.
*
“Find anything?”
“I want to move cautiously.”
“Alone.”
“Stay with the vehicle. I call you,
you swoop in.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You love it.”
“No, I don’t. We should talk to your
sister. Apologise for the scare in the woods. Did you find anything?”
“Testing the extent of the
contamination. Had to buy a few things. Please stay safe.”
“You too. Safe from what? Okay Mr
Silent Type. Play it close. But, you too. Stay safe. I want an explanation by
nightfall. Meanwhile, I’ll book us a hotel.”
*
Later afternoon. He found the notebook. Replay. So he’d missed Jessica in the woods as she’d hunted for Gran. In the morning, mom had walked back into Jessica’s life. Jessica made the time to narrate her story. Ending with mom’s arrival. Likely outcome? Jessica couldn’t deal, or process, and insisted on telling the story to her diary. Filling mom in as she wrote.
Up to a point. Mom’s patience would
have worn thin, and then. Yeah. Mom, or someone/something resembling mom, said
all the explanations were in the woods. With Gran out of it, Jessica left the
next slice of her narration for later.
Then. In the woods. What happened?
Mom, or someone/something resembling mom, grabbed the notebook. Ripped it
apart. Funny. Gran insisted that Jamie not be involved. Casting him as evil.
Mom, or the mom-thing, probably cast Jamie as evil too.
And now? He didn’t feel like calling
Wanda to rescue him. Jamie had to rescue Jessica. He followed his gut-instinct
and moved slowly, camouflaged, testing the way ahead. Intuition says not to
visit the house. Follow your ears on this one.
There. A light tinkling. Metal
leaves. There aren’t any. Closer. Move slowly. Nothing. You must be able to see
them by now. Ah. Irony. The metal leaves are in disguise. Two can play the
camouflage game. There. A building. Cloaked in green. With a green door. The
creamy pillars stood out.
He watched for an entire hour.
Another. Wanda was under strict instruction not to call him. He’d set the phone
to vibrate anyway. Jamie was staring at a building that hadn’t been here
yesterday. Green leaves. He inched closer. His fingers scraped away at the
surface.
Someone’s learning. The leaves are
coated green, to blend in. Underneath that veneer, the leaves are golden. The
plants have come together to grow a structure resembling a building. With a
lamp. He sensed something watching for him. But he’d moved slowly, and was
bathed in camouflage of his own.
Night came on. With it, the lamp
burst into life. Neat trick, for a plant. Right there, on the ground. A flash
of yellow. The other half of the notebook. Cautiously, he picked that up and
ignored the temptation to skip to the end. Be tempted. He did skip to the end.
Just to see how far ahead the end lay.
Not far. His sister’s narration
continued for a few pages, explaining what happened when mom arrived. The
narration ceased with an entry on heading into the woods. Mom-thing was very
persuasive. Ha. And he was meant to
be the evil one.
Something heavy loomed over him. Was
his sister inside the plant-building? He used every sense available to him.
Sweet scent. As though a plant had just burst into night-blooming life. He
counted trees. Had one moved? Rustling. Metallic.
Through the trees, there came the
sound of an animal running. It darted into the glade lit by the plant-lantern.
A deer. The animal skidded to a clumsy halt. Creature in search of its Disney
documentary moment. Jamie could almost hear the whimsical soundtrack burst into
life.
To the deer’s right, an entire tree
knelt and shoved its outstretched branch arm through the animal’s frame. The
juddering twitching beast could have been Jamie. He’d moved slowly, and was
camouflaged. Up the deer went, snapping and popping as tree-fingers pushed and
prodded.
Blood became a fine mist irritating
Jamie’s nostrils. He refused to gag. Was Jessica dead? No. The mom-thing would
have killed Jessica at the house, if that had been the plan. So that wasn’t the
plan. Why had the tree-thing killed the deer, then? Sustenance?
It’s one thing to draw life from the
soil. But to allow for the rapid growth the tree-thing had undergone, that
required the full three-course meal. To build a structure from plants. That too
was costly, and he wondered what had fed that transformation. Unless. Say it.
One of the plants was a nuclear plant. Take it down if you find it, smart guy.
Jamie waited for the snapping to
subside. The tree-thing clumped off in the direction of town. What was he
supposed to do about that? Warn Wanda? How, exactly? There’s a dangerous figure heading your way. True. Wanda would ask
him to elaborate on that description.
It’s a tree-thing. Just roll with it.
He sensed nothing. Screw this. Go
through the green door. If the building eats you, then you deserve a stupid
fate like that for walking into a Venus Housetrap. Jamie paused. He pretended
that no one told him there’d be days like this one. A lie. He was warned, long
ago. Thanks, pop.
The door gave easily to his manly
shoulder. He burst in. The same way a firework hits the sky. There were more
plant-lights in the ceiling of this mock-chapel. How long before the tree-thing
enhanced its camouflage, and started to resemble a human?
Quite a long while. It had to shrink
to reasonable height, first. Jessica was sleeping on a pew. Or was she? Perhaps
she’d been replaced by a plant-thing. He’d have to develop a test for that. And
test himself first. Wanda too. Gran. Jessica. Mom-thing.
Okay smart guy. Why is Jessica still
alive? As a lure, to drag you in here? Or do the plants have grand plans
for…her. For the pair of you. Hell, for the whole human race. He started
thinking about weedkiller, napalm, and atomic bombs. Come on, smart guy. Why
did the tree-thing leave? It was needed elsewhere. Possibly back at the house.
He had to save Jessica, take her to
the house, check on Gran, and pile everyone into the jeep. Case closed. Problem
solved. Nothing a little home-made napalm wouldn’t fix. He touched Jessica’s
shoulder. She slept on. Jamie put his hand to her cheek. The pale skin flaked
away, revealing solid gold beneath.
Midas has nothing on you, Jamie
Henley. Was she beyond saving? Had he allowed himself to be contaminated just
now? He sat on the pew beside Jessica. Explain this one to Wanda. Go on. Okay. Jessica has developed a rare skin-condition.
There. Easy.
A steady clumping sound broke into
his non-thoughts. The tree-thing was back. With a double-clump. Oh. It had
brought company. He felt safe inside the plant-building. The creatures were too
big to get at him.
He watched in amazement as the walls
grew trees. The tree-things were simply merging with the other plants making up
the building. Passing through to the mock-chapel’s interior. The original
tree-thing was tall enough to reach to the ceiling. Its willowy friend was smaller.
Feminine.
Had this been the mom-thing earlier
in the day?
Right on time, his phone vibrated.
Tree-thing and mom-thing hadn’t noticed him. They’d been looking in another
direction, away from Jessica. Now the plant-faces turned and set beady
plant-eyes upon Jessica and Jamie. Saplings versus siblings. Well, the game’s
up. He answered the call.
“Wanda?”
“You will not believe what I just saw
at the edge of the woods.”
“Oh, I think I can hazard a mild wild
guess.”
“Forget it, smart guy. You have no
idea.”
“I’ll have to call you back. In the
middle of a conversation. Well, I’m at the start of one.”
“Who with?”
“Er. They say it’s good to talk to
your plants. Helps them grow faster. Not that I see that making much difference
here. Hit the hardware store and pick up plenty of weedkiller. A chainsaw.
Napalm if they stock it. They won’t stock it. Ask anyway.”
“Jamie?”
“Wanda. Leave town.”
“I think we’re beyond that. They’ll
paint you as evil, and seal off the streets. In that order. Well, they skipped
to the second part.”
“Who are they?”
“What are they?”
“Okay. What, then?”
“Hedges. Golden hedges. And they’re
turning green.”
