 |
|
|
Post By Rhiannon Sun Apr 29, 2007 at 05:15:37 pm EDT |
Subject
The Trouble with Daffodils | |
|
|
Next In Thread >> | |
I wandered through the garden centre passing plastic plant pots of all descriptions; big, small, round, square, plain black, dark green, and even a red and orange polka dotted one. From examining the plants within the pots I was beginning to feel that searching for anything here that might possibly brighten up the garden was something of a lost cause. Turning the corner however I was pleasantly surprised too see that my doubts may just be proved wrong. I had stumbled upon a section of bulb plants that specialised in growing during the damp days of spring. Then I felt it. An all too familiar tingling sensation running down my spine. And I knew, just knew, that something, anything, was about to happen. Pausing a moment to shiver in the light drizzle I stepped bravely forward to examine the plants before me pushing the strange and gripping certainty to the back of my mind. My eye was instantly drawn to a flash of yellow about halfway down the row. Wandering over for a closer look I found a pot full of daffodils at half price and was pondering whether or not to buy them when I was startled by a voice from behind. “The problem with daffodils, is that they’re too yellow.” I spun around to find a young girl of indeterminate age standing where no-one had been before. She was only waist height though more because she was inexplicably miniaturised than that she was young. She was the exact replica of the most common of the row of garden statues she stood next to. There was little doubt in my mind as to where she had come from. “No, I mean it,” she continued, “I mean you’re going through a garden and everything’s green and lovely and then a yellow, unruly daffodil clashes with the colour scheme and brings the whole tone of the garden down.” She leaned back to emphasise her point and inadvertently sent a stack of lawn edging tiles flying. “I don’t think that that would be a problem in my garden,” I admitted as I helped her gather up the scattered tiles, thinking of the brown and muddy mess of damp earth and bare twigs that made up the patch of ground I so grandly called my garden. “Well that’s not my fault,” she informed me, “I for one am completely green.” That was true, she wore a plain green dress and had leaf green eyes and bare feet, there was a glow about her, not a visible one, just a strange glow that seemed to radiate a pleasant, living greenness. “What is more,” she carried on, “I make everything about me green as well.” That’s when I noticed that the world around me had inexplicably shifted without my noticing it, gone were the shabby wooden stands and the endless rows of seemingly lifeless plants. In their place stood towering hedges bedecked with leaves, a maze. “This is very… green.” I noted, wondering what I should do next. “Yes,” she agreed, “I’m glad you like it. But I’ve got a problem. Someone has entered my realm of greenness and is making it not green.” “You might want to do something about that,” I told her as tactfully as possible, “But I’m busy.” I indicated the tub of daffodils in my hand, miraculously still yellow. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to help me though,” she said, “and maybe I can show you the way out in return.” Sighing I agreed, and as I did a thought struck me. “Who are you?” She smiled an amused little smile as she answered, “You can call me Green.”  You might have guessed by now that I am somewhat used to unusual circumstances. Certainly not everyone would react normally to discovering that they have been kidnapped to the middle of a hedge maze by a statue come to life. But while this particular occurrence is new to me, I have learnt to take such things as they come. It’s a survival tactic. Right, let me start again. For some reason things around me refuse to stay ‘normal’. Odd happenings are quite common while I’m around, though fortunately I’m usually the only one who notices. I was once told something along these lines: everything has a potential. This potential is basically something that could happen. When I say everything I mean everything, places, people, items, situations. And something about me wakes this potential up, but not just the first possible thing that could happen; to complicate my life it has to be the most unlikely happening possible. Isn’t life great? In truth we weren’t at the centre of the hedge maze at all, we where headed towards it. As we drew nearer I began to notice little details not quite right, a leaf out of size, a rainbow sparkle fizzing through the air for a moment, the grass beneath my feet slowly giving way to a shimmering white or silver or blue paving, the colour varied changing even as I stared at it. Then we reached the centre. It was a circular clearing surrounded by tall brick walls that shone gold. The ground was paved except for a patch towards the back and a bit to the right where it stopped at the banks of the most amazing pond I ever saw. The water of the pond whirled continually, stirred seemingly at random by mysterious tides, and it looked as if someone had emptied out numerous pots of paint and bottles of ink into the swirling waters. Except the colours weren’t mixing and occasionally I caught sight of a fiery spark dancing through the water, following the tides. By the edge of the pond, leaning back comfortably and dangling a fishing rod just above the water, sat a gnome. Just an ordinary garden gnome, with horrifically bright colours and a massive nose. He was humming absentmindedly to himself. “Ah!” he called out, noticing our arrival and immediately jumping to his feet in greeting, “Spring! Random passer by! You’ve arrived!” “You! You!” The statue who had introduced herself as Green seemed lost for words. She was staring around her in a horrified manner as if she could not comprehend how such chaotic un-orderliness could be happening. I had other things on my mind, “Spring?” I asked her, “Is that your name? I knew that you weren’t really called Green.” “Oh, she’s just a representative of springtime,” the gnome explained. “She takes what she represents from the name she is given, given by a mortal human that is. I’m Fred.” “I see,” I said doing my best to put this information in order. “So Fred, would you know the way out by any chance?” “I might do,” he told me, “But right now I’m far more interested in watching Spring here gibber at the sight of what I’ve done.” “Oh shut up!” Spring snapped back at him, then she turned to face me, “Now what are you going to do?” I stopped for a moment to put everything in order. Spring thought I could get rid of the gnome. The gnome had told me that I could re-name Spring as whatever aspect of the season I liked. They both wanted me to get rid of the other. I smiled as I had a really great idea. “Right,” I said turning to Spring, “I rename you… Daffodil!” “Ha!” snorted Fred, “Good one!” “And you can go away and leave her alone!” I informed him. “What!” he yelled, but the two of them had set me down as rulemaker in their contest, so he had to abide by my verdict. “And I am going home!” I swung around to face the wall just next to the pool and as I expected, saw a door. It was just a plain wooden door coated with peeling green paint. It looked as if it was to a garden shed. I knew where it really led. “Hey wait a minute!” Fred objected, positioning himself between me and the door. “You’ve just set down the rules, shouldn’t you wait to make sure they’re being carried out?” He grinned at me, “Make sure nothing goes wrong.” “Not really. No.” I said, shoving him in the pool as I moved past. “Acck! I’ll be back!” He promised as the current dragged him beneath the water. “I’ll count on it,” I muttered, grinning as I stepped through the portal between that world and mine. My life had never really been boring, but now with Fred the troublemaker involved it would be even more interesting still. I found myself by the counter in the gardening centre but before stepping forward to purchase the daffodils I still held I couldn’t resist turning back to see if my guess had been correct. The portal from this side looked like an old window, a window that reflected another world. That world was closing up, folding itself away as I knew it would, until it was all but non-existent, once again in a state of readiness and awaiting. The last thing I saw was Fred jumping out and into another just in time. I shook my head as the reflection went blank. If I had stayed there like the gnome had suggested then I would have been folded in on too. And that’s why you never trust a gnome that grins like that. Concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Rhiannon Rose Watson. The right of Rhiannon Rose Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
| Echo™ v3.0 beta © 2003-2006 Powermad Software |
|
|