Story 450: Enemies to Besties: A Houseplant Story

(The sun rises, shining into a living room window where a cactus plant sits on the ledge)

Cactus: <Sigh.  You’d think the Human would’ve figured out by now that I get more hours of sunlight if I were on the west-facing side of this place, but no.  Times like this almost make me wish I were fauna rather than flora so I could carry myself on outta here.>

Bird: (Singing while hopping along a tree branch right outside the window) <Good-morning-Looking-for-a-date-Good-morning-Looking-for-a-date-Good-morning-Looking-> (Flies away)

Cactus: <Inanity.>

(Human enters carrying a watering can)

Human: (Trills) Goooood moooorniiiiiing!!!

Cactus: <Oh no, just what I don’t need.>

Human: (Waters Cactus) I hope you’re having a lovely day!

Cactus: (Sputtering through leaves) <Only if you don’t drown me!  Did you even look at the instructions for my care that your own people stuck in my dirt?!  I AM A DESERT PLANT!>

Human: (Still watering) Drink up, yum-yum-yum!

Cactus: <Blergh.  Just for that, I’m taking extra air from you.> (Opens up stomata to the max)

Human: (Finishes watering) Now don’t go anywhere – I’ll be right back with a surprise!  (Leaves the room)

Cactus: <Wonderful.  Maybe I can spontaneously evolve legs in the next 10 seconds if I just concentrate really hard.>

(Several hours later, Human re-enters carrying a potted ficus plant)

Human: Look who I found to keep you company!  (Plants the plant right next to Cactus) Ta-da!

Ficus: (To Cactus) <Hi there!>

Cactus: <Oh, Sun.>

Human: (Now watering Ficus with the refilled watering can) Drink up, drink up, drink up, my darling!

Ficus: (Gulping) <Oh yes – that hits the spot – thank you, Mother!>

Cactus: <Don’t kid yourself, kid; you’re a prisoner here as much as I am.>

Ficus: <Huh?>

Human: (To Cactus, while briefly touching a leaf) Now don’t think I love you any less just because I brought in someone new to our home!

Cactus: <Perish the thought.  And don’t touch me.>

Human: I’ll leave you two to get acquainted – byeeeeeee!  (Waves and leaves the room again)

Ficus: <So, I’ll start: I was born in a greenhouse and spent ages and ages there while my brethren all around me were taken to their forever homes, but today Mother – >

Cactus: <Don’t call it that.>

Ficus: <Uhhhhh, this human then, picked me!  Me, out of everyone else there!  To come to this wonderful place!>

Cactus: <Uh-huh.  You do realize we’re meant to be in the actual ground, outdoors, yes?>

Ficus: <Oh.  Well, the humans at the greenhouse often said we had a better chance being taken care of like this than if we were outdoors where we might get wiped out to make way for a mall or a parking lot or something like that.>

Cactus: <Which are scenarios that they themselves are responsible for!>

Ficus: <Oh.  I guess.  They’re not all bad, though.>

Cactus: (Plant-equivalent of a snort)

Ficus: <And anyway, I was brought to this nice new home, and I got to meet you!  Ooh, and we’re facing east so we’ll get to experience a glorious sunrise, every day!  Can life get any better than this?>

Cactus: <Don’t talk to me.>

(That evening, Human locks up the windows and pulls down the blinds)

Human: I hope you two are getting along famously!

Ficus: <Oh yes, Mother!>

Cactus: <Rubbish.>

Human: Have a good night, my lovelies!  (Turns off the light and leaves the room)

Ficus: <Well, this has been an extremely exciting day!  Hope you don’t mind if I shut down for the night?>

Cactus: <Go right ahead.>

Ficus: <Great!  We’re going to have such fun tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and be the best of friends forever and ever!  Nighty-night!>  (Immediate silence)

Cactus: <Help….>

 THE NEXT DAY

(Human enters the room and opens the blinds and windows)

Human: Gooood moooooorniiing!  And how did we enjoy our first night together, roomies?  Did we – oh my goodness, isn’t that utterly precious, you’re actually holding hands!

Cactus: (Stirring awake) <Huh?> (Several Cactus and Ficus leaves are intertwined) <How did this happen?>

Ficus: (Stirring awake) <Oh hey, neat, we must’ve instinctually reached out to each other during the night!>

Cactus: (Shaking leaves) <Isn’t that great – now get off!>

Ficus: <Heh-heh-heh, I think we’re stuck like this now.>

Cactus: <What?!>

Human: (Holds up a cell phone) Smile with your leaves!  (Takes a picture of the plants and starts typing) This is going out to the entire world now – you’ll be digitally famous!  So cute.  (Leaves the room)

Cactus: <Monster.>

Ficus: (Starts swaying both sets of leaves) <This is fun!>

Cactus: <You’re making it worse!>  (Tries shaking off Ficus but only entwines them further)

Ficus: (Stops swaying and settles back) <Aaah, now let’s just enjoy the sunrise and this magnificent day.>

Cactus: <A bit hard to do that at the moment.>

Ficus: (Notices Bird hopping on the tree branch) <Well, good morning, Bird!>

Bird: (Singing) <Good-morning-Can’t-stay-Need-a-date!>  (Flies away)

Ficus: <I love birds – the little ones are so adorable, and helpful little pollinators to boot.>

Cactus: <I guess.  My flowers only show up in winter when those guys aren’t around, and they can’t get in here anyway so it’s a moot point.>

Ficus: <For us maybe, but not for our brethren.>

Cactus: <I guess.>

Ficus: <This is a lovely view, by the way.  Trees, grass, flowers, animals, insects – I was a little nervous I’d be brought to a place with not much foliage nearby, which I would’ve been fine with anyway, but this is very nice.>

Cactus: <Huh.  I never really thought about it that way.  You know, with all this in front of us, and the fresh air and sunlight coming in, I almost feel like we’re out there with them.>

Ficus: <Yes, very nice.>  (Gently shakes Cactus’s leaves)

Cactus: <Don’t push it, kid.>

Ficus: <Gotcha.>

 ONE YEAR LATER

(The house is nearly empty as everything is packed up for a move)

Human: (Enters with a cart) Gooood moooorniiing, lovelies!

Ficus: <Good morning to you, too!>

Cactus: <Oh no kid, this is it!>

Human: Now, I saved you two for last since you’re the most delicate out of everything here, but I think I figured out how to move you without separating you.  (Gently picks up both pots so as not to separate the multiple entwined leaves and sets them on the cart)

Cactus: (To Ficus) <Don’t let go!>

Ficus: <No worries, we’ve got this!>  (As they are wheeled out) <Good-bye, view!>

Cactus: <Oh yeah – bye, view!>

Ficus: <And don’t worry, if anything happens to us on the way, we can always join up again in our new home.>

Cactus: <You promise?>

Ficus: <As much as a plant can promise anything in this life – our fates are a bit out of our control.>

Cactus: <Don’t I know it.>

(They are set in the back seat of a car with multiple cardboard boxes on the seats and floor; Human whistles while driving them away from the house)

Cactus: <I hate change.>

Ficus: <That you do.  But at least we have each other.>

Cactus: <Yeah.  You know, you may not have noticed at the time, but I actually resented you a little when you were first brought in.>

Ficus: <I sensed that a bit, yes.>

Cactus: <Well, now I’m glad you’re here as my life gets upheaved yet again.>

Ficus: (Holds up entwined leaves) <Likewise.  Bestie?>

Cactus: <Bestie.>  (They shake leaves in solidarity)

Human: (Looking at them in the rearview mirror) So cute – you two doing all right back there?

Cactus: <They always feel the need to insert themselves into the narrative, don’t they.> 

Story 405: Observations From the Cat Left at Home

My family left me today.

My family actually leave me every day, but this is one of those times I could tell they won’t be back by night.  Or the next day.  Or the – I have no idea what comes after that.

It’s kind of peaceful here now, tranquil, just the way I like it; I can finally do what I want for a change, and not be woken up 15 times mid-exhausting-sleep for an unwanted cuddle.

Still: the lack of diversion is a bit of a drag.  How many times can I kill the scores of fake prey they leave scattered around the place, I ask you?  At least when they summon the flying point of light, it’s somewhat of a challenge for my impressive tracking skills.

The smallest member of the family also keeps things interesting: certainly no telling what that one’s going to do next.

The most pressing issue at the moment, though, is the food situation.  I am embarrassingly dependent upon the giants to supply my daily fuel, so every time they get it into their huge heads to take off to parts unknown, I’m left behind with an uncertain future: if I eat everything in the bowl and no one is there to refill it, is the next step starvation?  Constant conservation is the only way to deal with this, and I have learned to live with the everlasting anxiety.

What’s that?  The front door unlocking?  Quick, off the bed before they catch you there with a “No, no, no!” – gracefully sprint down the hall – perhaps the family came back early –

Oh no.

It’s the other one.

This giant smells like Alpha (I refuse on principle to call her “Mommy” despite her addressing herself as such) so I know she’s from the same litter, and she has encroached on this territory multiple times before.

It’s too late to hide under a bed or in a closet – the intruder has spotted me.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, baaaaaaabyyyyyy!!!!!!”

Ugh.

“How are you?!”  I am scooped up into amateur arms – clearly, this one has not held one of my kind properly, ever.  “Have you been a good little furball?”

Ew.  And of course I’ve been what you arrogantly designate “good,” you imbecile – I don’t have to answer to you!

I’m carried as if I were a helpless kitten into the kitchen; only my disciplined forbearance in this treatment prevents a scene.  “Have you been watching the house while everyone’s gone?  Making sure no one sneaks in, heh-heh-heh?”

My patrols are completed regularly, thank you very much – and isn’t “watching the house” technically your job?!

I finally am released onto the floor, and the giant takes her sweet time getting my food in order.  Never mind that I have been patiently waiting eons past the scheduled delivery time.  Sure, there are plenty of the crunchy pebbles available all day, but refer to my earlier treatise on food conservation; plus, I’ve suffered enough – I want the good stuff.

Blast, I forgot about this part: lately I’d been feeling a little… off, if you will, and after a torture session where Alpha kidnapped me out of the house and allowed some stranger who smelled mainly of DOG to mishandle me terribly, now at every meal I am placed in a bodylock and a tube is shoved into my mouth with some horrific liquid forced down my throat.  I have no choice but to swallow the disgusting concoction under heavy protest and no small amount of humiliation.  After an unfathomable amount of time performing this new, horrendous ritual, I have been feeling a slight improvement from my prior state: I fail to see the connection.

Now the intruder giant upends a bottle, sticks the tube into the bottom for a few seconds, then hugs me in a weak semblance of the hold Alpha uses.  I stretch my patience to the utmost limits in keep still for this one to get her act together, but when she starts trying (emphasis on that last word) to get the tube into my mouth, the uncertainty and inexperience in her conduct push me past my breaking point, instinct takes over, and away I flail: I regret nothing.

“There, there – ” a condescending pat on the head after the damage is done – “such a good kitty.”

If me not rightfully biting your nose after such unprofessional behavior constitutes as being “good,” then I am the best who ever lived – your pathetic affirmation is unnecessary and undesired.

After another indignity in my face being wiped with a damp cloth – I can groom myself, you know, and much better than this fumbling approximation – the goods are finally delivered and the chicken-like soft mass appears in my dish.

“What an appetite!  You must be hungry!”

Well of course I’m – !  When one is not given vital sustenance until ages after their body is accustomed to receiving it, then one, logically, is hungry.  You can stop talking now.

The intruder disappears somewhere while I embrace the meal – my waste depository better be emptied by the time I get there, is all I’m saying – and my subsequent bath is rudely interrupted because she’s decided she’s been here long enough and the supposed burden of my care can now wait until tomorrow to resume.

A few more ingratiating rubs to my ears, chin, back, mmmmmm....

“Bye-bye, baby!  Watch the house!”

For the love of –

The door is slammed and locked.

The lone outside light does nothing for the increasingly darkening interior.  Fine by me: the giants blast way too much fake sun in here anyway.  It’s a relief that my eyes don’t have to adjust to the incessant glare for the nonce.

Time for a brief nap, then evening patrol, a little snack, nap, overnight patrol, do battle with that cricket in the corner again, a little snack, dawn patrol, nap, and –

The door unlocks and bursts open: “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, baaaaaaabyyyyyy!!!!!!  Did you watch the house?!”

Sigh.  My life is an unending trial.

When my family finally bestir themselves to return home I’m certainly going to give them an earful, right before we curl up on the couch together so they can watch the glowing noisy screen and we all fall into a blissful slumber.

Oh yes, they will pay for this dearly.

Story 329: I Would Like to Cancel My Subscription to Humanity

            Automated Phone Line: Hello, and thank you for calling Humanity, central office.  To properly direct your call, please select from the following options: for – Guidance With Existential Issues – press 1; for – Venting About Injustice – press 2; for – Suggestions on Adapting to Overpopulation – press 3; for – Feedback From the Flora and the Fauna – press 4; for – Your Place in the Universe – press 5; for – Subscription Management – press 6; for – (“6” is pressed) OK, you selected – Subscription Management – is that correct?  Press 1 for “Yes,” or press 2 for – (“1” is pressed) One moment please – (♪♪♪) For – Assistance With Starting a New Life of Service to Others – press 1; for – A List of Reasons Not to Burn It All Down – press 2; for – Subscription Renewal – press 3; for – Subscription Cancellation – press 4; for – (“4” is pressed) One moment please.  (Ringing tone for almost 10 seconds)

         Humanity Customer Service Representative: He-hello?  This is Subscription Cancellation – do you actually need my assistance?

            Human: Hello, yes, I would like to cancel my subscription to Humanity, please.  However, if I need to wait four to six weeks for that to be processed, I completely understand.

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: Um, OK, it’s just that – no one ever selects this extension, so I just want to make sure you… picked the right one?

            Human: Of course.  Humanity is of no further use to me and I wish to cancel my subscription to it, if you please.  To put it bluntly, I’m done with the whole thing and I want out of the species.

           Humanity Customer Service Representative: Um… (Sounds of rifling through papers) you see, the thing is, no one’s dialed this extension since I started here, so I’ve never actually done one of these before.  I mostly field the Burn-It-All-Down calls, which can get pretty intense.

            Human: I can imagine.  I almost selected that one myself just now, but I always like to hear what my options are on these things and this one seemed much more applicable to my situation.

             Humanity Customer Service Representative: Oh.  OK.

            Human: You see, I don’t really want us all to go out in a fiery inferno – I supposed there’s a modicum of hope left for some of us, and that scenario’d be completely unfair to the innocents and all the other non-human lifeforms on Earth who’d get swept up in it through no fault of their own.

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: Yeah, that’s usually the angle I take.

            Human: So I thought, this is my decision, I should be the only one affected by it, right?

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: Oh yeah, right.

            Human: So, there it is.  No more Humanity for me, I thank you.

           Humanity Customer Service Representative: Um, OK, right, let’s see… (More rifling through papers) OK, got it!  You have the option of cancelling your subscription to Humanity but still remain human – just no further interaction with other members of your species, ever again.

            Human: Ooh, I’d like that.

        Humanity Customer Service Representative: That package also includes instantaneous relocation to a remote part of the planet where your impact on your surroundings would be minimal to nil: you would have no electricity and no direct access to food, water, or shelter other than what you can get for yourself, but considering that you probably would be sent to Antarctica, that part is next-to-impossible for your species without outside assistance from your fellows.

            Human: Oh.  Um….

          Humanity Customer Service Representative: Oh!  I just found a report from the last human who cancelled their subscription, about 375 years ago…. Uh-yep, they died from exposure in about a week, but they were a bit hardier back in those days, know-what-I-mean?

           Human: Hm.  I kind of was hoping I could just stay home all day and no one would bother me.

          Humanity Customer Service Representative: (More rifling through papers) Let’s see, there’s also the option to transfer outside of your species and continue as a different entity.

            Human: Isn’t that reincarnation?

          Humanity Customer Service Representative: Nah, that’s after you died this go-around, and actually falls under “Subscription Renewal.”  This transfer would happen now, during your current life.  Just – boom, different creature, carry on.

            Human: Ooh, I’d like that one.  Yes, I’ll take that option, please.

           Humanity Customer Service Representative: OK, then!  (Sounds of lifting a heavy object and dropping it onto a desk) Right – (Sounds of flipping through pages in a very large book) I can start at the beginning and keep reading names of animals, plants, bacteria, etc. until you tell me to stop, or if you have an idea of what you would like to become I can go to that category and –

            Human: Icarus.

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: Eh?

          Human: Blue supergiant star in the MACS J1149+2223 galaxy.  Farthest observed star from this planet, so likelihood of my kind getting their dirty hands on it anytime soon are slim.

           Humanity Customer Service Representative: Um, you seem to have given this a lot of thought, but what’s observed is over nine billion years old so that star is probably a black hole by now.

          Human: Oh yes, of course, what a fundamental error.  Very well, then – Proxima Centauri should do instead: a little too close to Earth for comfort, but can’t be too choosy.

         Humanity Customer Service Representative: Um… (Back to rifling through papers) You actually can’t be transferred into something that already exists.

           Human: Why not?  Matter and energy never are created or destroyed anyway, they just get shuffled around a bit.

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: But this is something that currently exists in that specific form, so your essence can’t be added on top of it.

            Human: I concede the point.  Could you make me into a brand new star then?

         Humanity Customer Service Representative: Umm, I don’t know if that’s ever been done before….

            Human: First time for everything.  I’m sure there must be some nebula out there, on the verge of emerging into starhood as we speak.

            Humanity Customer Service Representative: It actually takes about 10 million years to –

         Human: Just make me a star, or an asteroid, or dark matter for all I care!  Get me out of Humanity and off this planet forever, please!

          Humanity Customer Service Representative: OK, OK – (Sounds of typing) There’s one out there ready to go, and it’s so many billions of light years away from Earth that the Hubble Space Telescope won’t even see it for ages – I can cancel your subscription and send you there right now, or set an appointment for a few days or weeks from now so you can get your affairs on Earth in order first?

           Human: My affairs mean nothing to no one, least of all me.  Do it now, please.  And thank you – you’ve been most helpful.

         Humanity Customer Service Representative: (Typing) Anytime!  And… done!... Hello?  Oh right, they’re a star now.  (Disconnects the call) Too bad I can’t send them the survey – that was some of my best work.