by Amy Neftzger
“It’s been over-watered,” Nicholas said.
“But plants need water to live. So I gave it water,” she insisted in her defense.
“They need a certain amount, but too much is bad,” he explained. “It’s like food for us. If we eat too much, we get a stomach ache or get fat.”
“I never thought about that.”
“You’ve also kept it away from the window where the sun could dry the soil and provide light for it to grow.”
“I was only trying to keep it safe,” Maggie cried. “The wind could knock over the pot or it could fall off the ledge. I didn’t want it to get hurt.” The tears started flowing down her face again, and Nicholas thought how silly it was for someone’s future to be determined by the fate of a plant. It made him a little angry to think about the unfairness of the rule, but he knew he needed to help solve Maggie’s problem and not worry about who made the rules or why.
“Don’t cry, Maggie. I’ll make it better,” Nicholas replied softly. “I’ll help.”
“Can you fix it?” she asked hopefully.
“I know I can,” he replied with more certainty than he felt. His first concern was Maggie, and Nicholas knew that Taro was likelier to check on her plant than on his own, which had always been thriving. He would need to change plants with her. That way he would be able to watch her plant carefully so that Maggie wouldn’t nurture it to death. He continued, “But I will need to take it with me so that I can make it better.”
“When they see my plant is gone, they’ll throw me out!” she panicked. “Where will I go?”
“You won’t go anywhere. You’ll stay here because I’m going to give you my plant while I nurse yours back to health. The first step is to sneak this one to my room without anyone noticing.”
“How will we get it there?” she asked as she stopped crying.
“I’m going to carry it,” he said. “But I need you to concentrate and focus on staying in step with everyone else. We can’t afford to be noticed.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Nicholas looked around and then decided that the least conspicuous approach would be to carry the plant under his lab coat. Thank goodness Mr. Portnoy had made it baggy enough to hide an entire potted plant. Nicholas pulled one arm inside the coat so that he could grasp the pot firmly to his side. Maggie walked on the other side of the plant so that no one would see that Nicholas was missing an arm from his coat sleeve. Luckily, the other children in the hallways were so well trained that they walked in formation and kept their eyes forward. This prevented anyone from looking around too much, and Nicholas and Maggie made it to Nicholas’ room without being noticed.
Once he closed the door, Nicholas carefully took the plant out from underneath his coat and set it down in the window. He immediately dug it up from the pot and loosened the wet soil around the roots so that air could reach them. The plant needed to breathe. He looked around his room until he spotted what he wanted.
“Hand me that stack of napkins,” he instructed Maggie as he nodded with his head towards them. She looked around and, after noticing the pile of neatly folded napkins on a small wooden shelf, she brought them over. She was afraid to get too close to the plant because she felt responsible for injuring it, even though she had not done it on purpose. She had the feeling that the plant didn’t know it was all an accident. “These will help to pull moisture from the roots,” Nicholas explained as he placed the waterlogged roots on top of the napkins. He watched the color of the napkins darken as the fibers absorbed the water from the soil. The water rapidly spread from the damp soil to the napkin fibers, pulling the moisture away from the roots. After he had soaked several napkins, Nicholas set the plant with exposed roots on the window sill to continue drying.
“Is it going to be OK?” Maggie asked cautiously from across the room.
“It’s already looking better,” Nicholas replied. At least he thought it looked better, but it was far too early to tell if the plant would live. If it didn’t make it, he knew that he would disappear from the orphanage instead of Maggie, and knowing that she would be safe made Nicholas feel more confident that he was doing the right thing. No matter what happened, Nicholas felt good that Maggie wouldn’t be hurt if the plant died.
“I’ve been calling it Droopsilla ever since she started looking droopy,” Maggie said quietly. “Actually, I don’t know if it’s a girl or boy. I don’t know how to tell with plants.”
“You gave your plant a name?” Nicholas was surprised at the idea.
“Of course. You know, people say that plants can hear us and like it when we talk to them, so I wanted something to call her when I was talking to her,” Maggie explained. “It just seemed more personal.” She looked at Nicholas for a moment as the thought occurred to her that perhaps not everyone did this. “Didn’t you name your plant?” she asked.
“No,” Nicholas confessed. “But now I feel maybe I should.”
“Well,” she said, surveying each part of the plant, “is it a girl or boy?”
“Most plants are both,” Nicholas replied. While some people had a hard time understanding the concept, this piece of information didn’t seem to bother Maggie.
“Good,” she said. “That makes it much easier because we have more names to choose from.”
She took a few steps closer to the window where both of the plants sat. They looked so different, with one thriving and the other barely grasping onto life.
“What does it look like to you?” Maggie asked. “Lucas? Stephen? Abigail?” Nicholas thought his plant looked like Hercules next to Maggie’s plant, but he didn’t want to suggest the name.
“Hope,” he blurted out as the idea struck him. “That’s what we’ll call it. It’s something we need more of around here, anyway. I can teach you how to care for it, and I know that it’s going to continue to grow.” The truth was that Nicholas thought Maggie needed hope at that moment, and that’s why he chose that name. She looked so sad, and he had never seen her upset before. It bothered him to see her worry. He felt that by giving her his plant and naming it after what she needed most that he was actually giving her hope.
“I like that name!” Maggie exclaimed. Nicholas smiled when he saw how much Maggie perked up at the suggestion. He really didn’t know if everything would be OK, but he knew his friend felt better, and that made him happy.
“Good. Now let’s take Hope to her new home, and I’ll help you get this plant settled.”
They carried the plant out in the open because the branches and leaves were too full to hide. It didn’t matter, anyway. No one would show concern over such a healthy plant. The hallways were less crowded now that most of the children were at their jobs, but there were still some children delivering supplies and doing other work that required moving about the building. Nicholas and Maggie were just a few doors down from Maggie’s room when they spotted Taro. Both of them jumped at the unexpected encounter with their mentor. After all, he seemed to have been avoiding them for the past few weeks. Nicholas hoped that Taro would simply wave and move on, but he didn’t. They watched him leave the flow of traffic and pause in a doorway as he motioned for them to come over. Maggie became nervous at the idea that they might get caught switching the plants. Taro must have known that the plant they were transporting belonged to Nicholas. There was no other reason he would go out of his way to talk with them. Anyone could see that the plant was too healthy to be hers. She felt a sense of panic but did her best to appear calm.
“Hello, Nicholas,” Taro said as they approached him. Nicholas and Maggie jumped out of the stream of traffic and stood in the doorway along with Taro. Nicholas read the word “Patientia” above the arch as he stepped underneath it.
“Good morning, Taro,” Nicholas said warmly. He did his best to look casual, as if he walked around with a plant all the time.
“I see your plant is doing excellently,” Taro replied with admiration. Maggie felt small and very uncomfortable in the situation. She knew what
Taro would do next. He would ask about her plant, and she felt the panic within her increasing. She knew she had to appear calm, and so she took a deep breath like the ones Nicholas had helped her with in the lab earlier. She inhaled a long, steady stream of air for three seconds and then slowly exhaled for three seconds. As Taro turned his attention towards her, she braced herself for that uncomfortable question that she knew was coming. But before Taro could open his mouth Nicholas spoke again.
“Actually,” he replied with confidence, “this is Maggie’s plant. We’ve discovered that it really likes to go for walks, so she’s been carrying it around for a little stroll every morning before we begin working.” There was a momentary pause as Taro processed this information, and Maggie worried that he would catch onto them. She watched him nervously as she continued to control her breathing. She closed her eyes as she waited for Taro’s response. It seemed like forever, but it had only been a few seconds. Worrying always makes time seem longer than it is by stretching the length of the moment but shortening the joy.
“That’s wonderful!” Taro’s eyes suddenly widened with excitement and Maggie opened her eyes to see that Taro not only believed the story, but he also thought she was some sort of a genius for thinking up a way to make her plant healthier.
“Yes,” Nicholas continued without hesitation, “but it’s growing so much that now it’s a little heavy for her, and so she asked me to carry it.” Maggie didn’t know how Nicholas stayed so calm or how he thought of things to say that made Taro accept the unusual situation, but she was grateful for a friend who could handle things like this.
“Teamwork. How wonderful! We need more of that around here,” Taro spoke with admiration and encouragement. “Excellent work. I knew you were a good combination, and you work so well together.” Taro’s face glowed with pride over them, and Nicholas began to feel slightly awkward over the lies he had told. If Taro knew the truth, he might not be quite so pleased with them.
“Yes, well, it’s almost time for us to be in the lab. We don’t want to be late,” Maggie interrupted. She was ready to move out of the uncomfortable position and get back to work. “We have other responsibilities, you know.”
“Of course,” Taro agreed, but his expression was still thoughtful as he paused. “Do you suppose, Maggie, that it would be OK if you took your plant for a walk in a wagon? Or a stroller?” he inquired in a reflective tone. “Or does it need to be carried? Is there something about the body contact that makes a difference?” Maggie hesitated before responding because she wasn’t really sure what to say. If she agreed, would she be required to walk her plant every day so that Taro didn’t find out that this plant belonged to Nicholas? On the other hand, if she didn’t agree, then she and Nicholas would have to walk every morning together. She decided it would be easier to agree.
“I think a stroller would be lovely,” she replied. “I think it would work out very well.”
“Then I’ll get you a stroller as soon as possible,” Taro announced with conviction. “I’ll have it for you this evening so that you’re prepared for your walk tomorrow morning.” He was about to leave when he turned back to them and added, “It just goes to show how a little attention and teamwork can make a difference to the plants. I think the guardians will be pleased to hear about this.”
As soon as Taro was gone, Maggie stared at Nicholas in disbelief. It had never occurred to them that the guardians would ever hear about their activities or what they were doing. The guardians, Mr. and Mrs. Pontiff, seemed so distant. The children never saw them except on special occasions, and even those times were brief. The guardians never spoke directly with any of the children, and so the children were under the assumption that they didn’t get involved with individuals. The guardians were the source of rules, regulations and the order in the orphanage. Maggie continued to stare at Nicholas as she wondered about the consequences of their lies.
“Am I going to have to walk this plant every morning from now on?” she asked him. It seemed like a lot of extra work, but Nicholas was on the verge of laughter and didn’t seem bothered by the consequence of the story they had just told Taro.
“Apparently,” he responded with an amused smirk. Then he shrugged helplessly as he stepped back into the hallway and walked the remaining distance to Maggie’s room.
Chapter Eight
Dinnertime
Kelsey and Silence both jumped to their feet at the sight of the oversized leopard. The animal moved with grace and purpose, making slow and steady movements towards them. As it approached, it sniffed each of them carefully around the face and then licked Silence across the cheek. The leopard’s tongue was rough, and Silence leaned away from the gritty feel of it, but this did not deter the animal. After the giant cat sniffed both of them a second time, it suddenly flopped down into a sitting position and Kelsey felt the ground gently shudder with the movement. The leopard sighed deeply and then addressed Kelsey with a slight upwards nod of her head.
“Cute kid you got here,” the leopard remarked casually, as if it had not been just stalking them as potential dinner. Kelsey was pretty sure at this point that the leopard was female, but at the same time she wasn’t sure it mattered. Getting eaten probably felt the same regardless of the cat’s gender. “This your brother?” The leopard flicked her nose in the direction of Silence. She patiently blinked her cool, blue eyes several times as she waited for a response.
“No,” Kelsey answered cautiously. She was irritated that everyone thought Silence was her brother, but she was also still worried that the leopard was preparing to spring upon them.
“Can he do any tricks?” the leopard inquired in a curious and thoughtful tone.
“What?” Kelsey said, astonished at the absurd question. Well, it sounded absurd to her because of the situation and also because she wasn’t used to anyone asking if humans knew any tricks.
“Tricks,” the leopard repeated. “You know, maybe some simple commands like ‘sit’ or ‘roll over’ or ‘catch me a fish.’ Can he do any of those?” Kelsey was dumbfounded. A talking leopard was asking her if the boy knew how to do any tricks. “Maybe just one?” the animal continued hopefully.
“I ...” Kelsey struggled for something to say but she didn’t know how to respond to a question that was so odd. “I don’t ...” The leopard turned to look at Silence. After staring for a moment to size him up, she suddenly barked out a command.
“High five!” The leopard shouted as she leaned to one side and raised a paw into the air. Silence immediately jumped up, as the leopard was quite a bit taller than he, even when sitting. Silence threw his weight into the movement and forcefully slapped his palm against the pads on the leopard’s paw. Then he smiled proudly as he placed his hands on his hips.
“Are you playing with your food?” Kelsey asked in a brief fit of anger. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to be upset with a 400-pound leopard, but Kelsey couldn’t help it. The leopard expressed her vexation at the comment by glancing sideways at Kelsey. She dropped her paw to the ground, and again Kelsey felt the earth shudder slightly. The cat was sleek, but it was more than three times the size of a normal leopard, and this made it quite a substantial animal. What’s more, the way she carried herself made her presence larger than her physical size.
“Don’t be crude,” the cat responded with irritation. “I’m not going to eat you.”
“But you were just talking about how delicious we smelled.”
“Him,” she pointed her paw at Silence. “He smells delicious. Your blood doesn’t do anything for me.” Kelsey didn’t know if she should feel relieved that she wasn’t on the menu or angry that she was being referred to like a bad potato. The comment sounded more like an insult than a mere opinion, but she decided to feel relieved. Then she quickly started feeling guilty over the amount of relief she felt at not being deemed delicious. It was an odd mixture of feelings that only added to her confusion. While Kelsey was trying to sort this out and think of something to ask the leopard because s
he still wasn’t sure whether to believe the “not dinner” comment, Silence put his hand up in the air again with his palm facing the leopard. He jumped up and down excitedly at the prospect of interacting with the giant cat a second time.
Now Kelsey was annoyed. “Kids,” she thought. “They never know when they might be dinner.”
The leopard slapped another high five with Silence. He appeared satisfied and he smiled.
“He’s spunky, too!” the leopard exclaimed with admiration. “What’s his name?”
“He can’t speak,” Kelsey explained.
“I’ve figured out that much,” the leopard replied. “That’s why I’m asking you.”
“He can’t tell me his name. So I call him Silence,” Kelsey announced. She tried not to show too much impatience because one never knows if it might set off a wild animal.
“He doesn’t smell like Silence,” the leopard remarked. “But it will have to do. Names make communication so much more civilized.” She glanced back at Kelsey. “And what do people call you?”
“Kelsey.”
“You smell like a Kelsey,” the leopard nodded with approval.
“What does a Kelsey smell like?”
“I can’t really explain it to you. You see, you’ll never be able to know because you will never have a reference,” the leopard said, “You’ll never have a reference because you can never get away from your own smell long enough to smell what it is not.”
“I’m not sure that I follow your logic,” Kelsey remarked.
“I don’t have to be logical. I’m a leopard. We’re considered wild animals, you know.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of wild animals.”
“Being familiar with something and having firsthand knowledge are really different things, wouldn’t you agree?” The leopard walked over to the edge of the river and studied the current.
