Zera and the Green Man (6 page)

Theodore jogged alone in the running room at Biotech Multinational’s gym. His legs, stronger from the weeks of intense exercise, pumped beneath him, his chest rose and fell in full, measured breaths, light perspiration beaded on his forehead below his dark shock of hair. He easily kept up with the moving floor of fake stone as the four walls surrounding him showed a landscape leafy and dappled in light.

Theodore passed the same grove of trees once every mile, and kept his eye on the glinting river far off in the distance. The river always sounded the same. It didn’t roar, like the rapids on the Arkansas River, it was steady and melodic. Even so, it always reminded him of the Arkansas River, and his sister Sally’s death. Sally and Ewan, killed in a flash flood that wouldn’t have happened if the lands around the river had been preserved, instead of being stripped of trees and vegetation for mining. Of course their deaths also might have been avoided if the two were not such adrenaline junkies — always wanting to go out and do things like ride rapids, climb the highest peaks in Colorado, fly a single-engine plane, or spend weekends skiing black-diamond slopes. He’d teased Sally for being a “hippie,” living in Ute Springs, being an artist and working on save-something causes all the time; that is, when she wasn’t pushing her limits physically. They’d always argued good-naturedly; he on the side of progress, she questioning his definition of “progress,” and yet she always let him know she adored her little brother.

He used to think about his sister’s death every day, but since the evening at Burger Depot, life had changed. That night he’d made a decision that he would not be pulled down by his grief (which was not easy, given Zera’s resemblance to Sally) or by
feeling sorry for himself because his career wasn’t going the way he planned. On that night, he formed a purpose. He would
take
action
. And now, finally, it was paying off. He’d lost a lot of flab, and he kept a positive attitude most days. Today as he jogged, he whistled and thought over his itinerary.
I’ll do my early morning workout, check in at the office, pick up my stuff, and then just walk out those doors.

An attractive woman in a skimpy jogging outfit appeared behind him on the left wall. She ran up, passed him, then turned and smiled, a smile both encouraging and flirtatious. “You’re doing
great.
Keep it up!”

Theodore smiled back at the holographic image, even though a second later he felt silly. His wristwatch buzzed — 7:50 A.M.

“I’m done,” he said. The machine-room obeyed the comment. In tandem, the woman disappeared, and the walls and road slowed to a stop. A door, invisible in the moving landscape, became visible again and Theodore opened it into the rest of the gym.

After showering and changing, he returned to his cubicle. His desk now held only his computer, a framed Glamour-Girl holograph of Tiffany, and a school holograph of Zera. Theodore picked up Tiffany’s picture.
I hope this works,
he thought, gazing at the image,
because I can’t come back here. I’ve got to leave without saying anything.
He looked at Zera’s picture.
I hope this is going to work out for you, too, kid.

From over his cubicle wall, Theodore spied the top of Harv Headstrom’s shiny head. He watched it bob down the corridor, approaching his office.
Probably making his third trip to the coffee bar this morning, or his third trip to the bathroom
.
I hope he doesn’t stop to say hi.

Harv peered over the five
-foot-six-inch-tall cubicle wall, his caterpillar eyebrows hovering over bright brown eyes. “Hey Theo, how’s it going?”

Theodore put the picture down and for the first time in a long time he smiled at Harv. “It’s going
great
.”

Harv’s caterpillars reared up.
“Yeah?”

Theodore nodded.

“Well, cool, it’s about time!” Harv went around to the door of Theodore’s office. “Wow, you really cleaned off your desk, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it not buried.”

“Uh . . . it was due,” Theodore said flatly. He didn’t want to encourage Harv to stick around.

“I was just heading down for a cup of joe, thought I’d say hi. See you at the meeting before lunch.”

Oh, no you won’t,
Theodore thought. Instead he said, “Later, Harv.”

Burger Depot had turned out to be a huge hit, just as expected. Americo had opened five new restaurants since the grand opening, with ten more scheduled by the end of next year. And still, Theodore had received no recognition from Bob Cadger. He’d tried to talk to him, and had his appointment “rescheduled” numerous times. After a while, Theodore gave up.

He opened his briefcase.
So long Biotech Multinational,
he said to himself as he began to play over in his mind last night’s dinner at
Chez Escargot
.

* * *

He and Tiffany had shared a candlelight dinner in the darkened, richly-decorated dining room just hours after Theodore got the news. Tiffany was surprised at the invitation to dinner and on their arrival at the restaurant purred, “What’s the occasion, Theodore? I’m on pins and needles! Tell me!”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He waited until after dessert. Behind his glasses, Theodore’s eyes shone as he pulled out from his breast pocket two airline tickets to Los Angeles. He laid them on the table and announced, “Tiffany, it’s happened.”

Tiffany picked up the tickets,
then looked at Theodore. A hint of confusion, then disappointment, flickered in her eyes, as if she were expecting something else. “What . . . what’s happened?”

“Somebody finally recognizes my worth.
My potential.” Theodore brought out his ever-present pocket computer. “I’ve received an offer from Void Chemical. You’ve heard me talk about them. We’ve been in contact almost since the time of the Burger Depot opening. They’re bigger than Biotech. Way bigger.” He started punching in numbers. “Tiffany, they want me as president of their Biotechnology Division, and — this is my starting salary.” He handed the pad across the table. Tiffany’s slender hand trembled as she took it. She peeked at the display. It read:
$ 900,000.00
.

“Oh–my–God!”
She squealed and bounced up several inches in her chair. A few diners looked over and Tiffany flashed them a lottery winner’s smile.

“Tomorrow I’m leaving Biotech and I’m not even giving them notice. I’m never going back. And that’s just the beginning.” Theodore’s voice lowered, “We can get out of here. I’ll finally have the chance to be all I’m destined to be.”

“Theodore, I am so hap . . .” She stopped, looked at him wide-eyed. “You said ‘we’ . . . Does that mean . . .”

“Yep, no more slaving over equations and hypotheses while the powers that be take all the credit, and the money. Langston Void, the top CEO at Void Chemical Corporation, wants to meet me tomorrow, wants me to personally bring him the signed contract. I told him about you, how you encouraged me, and he invited you, too. He wants to meet you.”

“You said ‘we’ll’ before, Teddy . . . ,” a hopeful eagerness brightened Tiffany’s face. “Does this mean, well, that you might want to . . .” she looked around the room, “take our relationship to the next level?”

Theodore turned pale. He took a gulp of wine. He cared about Tiffany, but had no desire to even think about the “M” word. Before Sally and Ewan died, he and Tiffany had been on exactly two dates. Then she showed up the day after his sister’s death. She’d read about it in the papers, wanted to comfort him. Before he knew it, she was a big part of his and Zera’s lives. She’d been hinting at marriage for months, but he didn’t know if he would ever be ready for that. His mother had been married three times; he just didn’t believe in that institution. Yet he needed Tiffany’s help with Zera, an area where he was clueless and she was confident, and he needed her enthusiasm. Tiffany’s ambition and drive were contagious. More than anything, Theodore wanted to succeed, to be someone important, and Tiffany understood this like no one else.

“We both know I couldn’t have done this without you, Tiff, and I do want you to come out with me to L.A. You’ve always said you’d like to maybe live out there someday, and I thought you could help me find a place to live. There’s just so much going on, and if I get this job there will be a lot to figure out.”

Tiffany flashed her eyes up at Theodore’s. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was pressuring you, but we’ve been together for a long time now. I just don’t want you to forget that. That we’re a
team
.” The last line hung in the air like a tease — and a threat.

“That I know.” Theodore took another gulp of wine.

“Now,” Tiffany said, “what are we going to do about Zera?”

* * *

In the cubicle, as Theodore put the holographic photos in his briefcase, he thought more about Tiffany’s question.
What to do with Zera?
Once again his excitement over a new future, a future that finally involved serious money and status, dimmed. It was strange. He was elated yesterday, he thought it was the best day of his entire life, but the more he thought about it . . .

Zera has only a few more years until she’s out of high school. It should be okay. Mom should be able to handle it, and if she can’t she’ll tell me. And Zera will be happier too
.

During fourth period, Biology, Zera concentrated on doodling. She’d already filled up half her electronic biology book’s memory with sketches of plants, and now, with her writing pen, she created a leafy, swirling vine that climbed up one side of the screen before twining around the word “Green.” Flowers of all sizes sprung from the vine: sunflowers, carnations, lilies, and snapdragons. Zera penned in expressive faces — sweet, scowling, serious, funny — from cooing, smooth-faced baby flower buds to large, blowsy, wrinkled granny blossoms with drooping heads and withering petals. She tapped a button, and then touched her pen to flower after flower, coloring one pink, another lemon yellow, and another burnt orange.

Plants,
she thought, as the teacher droned on, reviewing what would be on their final exam,
they supply almost everything
. Zera glanced at Ms. Casey, who drew a sprouting bean on the hologram board. Split in two, the bean had a hair-like root snaking downward in soil and a tiny stem and oval leaf reaching upward into the air. Zera looked around; most of the kids were as bored as she was. Biggie was repeatedly poking the tip of his pen into the bottom of one of his shoes, and Becky McGowan, sitting in the next aisle, just stared glassy-eyed at the teacher, her mouth half open. Abby was texting under her desk, probably Thor; she hadn’t even looked at Zera since they got to class.

Zera thought about how Ms. Casey’s lecture could be a lot more exciting; it was, after all, the birth of a plant, something of a miracle. Since the arrival of Sunny on her birthday, Zera had become obsessed with plants. They’d been a regular part of her life before coming to live with The Toad, but she had never really “seen” them or tried to understand them until she had her own. In the weeks since her birthday, Zera had absorbed dozens of books on houseplants, cacti, trees, bulbs, shrubs, herbs,
wildflowers, grasses, and garden flowers. It seemed natural to her to seek out books, instead of reading them on the computer, and it took her a while to discover why she had that preference. She finally figured out it — it was because the books themselves were made out of plants; from the paper, to the ink, to the varnish on the covers.

Most of her free time was spent reading, le
arning about plants’ uses, their art, and their history. She’d read fascinating accounts of plant explorers searching exotic countries, horrifying tales of women herbal healers in medieval Europe burned as witches, and modern discoveries in the field of plant intelligence. An old book she’d recently read, entitled
The Secret Life of Plants
, showed that plants had been found to react physically to the emotions and thoughts of
people
. She also read that Luther Burbank, the most famous plant breeder in the history of the United States, had talked about the effect of human thought on plants over a hundred years ago, a half-century before the book came out. The topic thrilled and intrigued Zera. She planned on looking for more books that summer.

Coloring the flowers on her electronic book’s notepad, her thoughts turned to Nonny.
Nonny would like this drawing. She’d probably think I was following in Mom’s footsteps as an artist.
Though Nonny had sold the 150-year-old Green Seed Company when Zera was just a baby, and had never spoken much about it, Zera was now curious.
I’d like to ask her why she sold it
.
I never cared before, but now that I know something about plants . . .
A familiar longing filled her. Zera bore down harder on her pen, working on the leaves, filling them with color.
Three-and-a-half years since I’ve gotten to spend any real time with her. Why do Theodore and Tiffany have to be such jerks?

  “Ms. Casey,” the intercom blared. “Please send Zera Green down to the office.”

Zera looked up at her teacher and hurriedly capped her pens. She didn’t see that all the flowers she’d drawn were now animated, engaged in soundless conversation, mouths working, eyes blinking, buds and petals nodding.

Ms. Casey checked the clock. “Since it’s only a few minutes until lunch, you’ll want to take your things with you.”

Zera’s heart thudded. Without looking at the notebook she
turned it off. Nothing unusual had happened to her since March with the zinnia incident, which, as she expected, was soon forgotten. Even the kids forgot to call her Plant Chick after the break.
Did I do something wrong? Should I ask why? No, it might be embarrassing, or, worse, I might sound like a whiner.
She tried to look calm, as if it were no big deal, as she gathered her supplies. Her classmates stared, a few grinned. Biggie said, “Uh-oh” under his breath.  Ms. Casey didn’t hear it, but a couple of kids chuckled.

The trip down the long, brightly-lit hallways seemed to take forever. Zera saw no one, but could feel the mechanical stares of the digital surveillance cameras at each corner, red indicator lights glowing. Her sneakers made an empty slap-slap echo on the polished surface of the linoleum and the lemony smell of floor wax filled her nostrils. Her stomach
felt queasy, partly from nerves, partly from the smell, as she shuffled past posters advertising the contents of the vending machines that stood like sentinels near the cafeteria. She glanced at a poster reading CAFE-COLA KEEPS YOU ALERT. It showed a bug-eyed boy sitting in the library with a history book, a geology book, a math book,
and
a can of Cafe-Cola, all opened in front of him. The HI-PROTEIN SQUIGGLES ARE A GREAT AFTER-SCHOOL SNACK poster showed a group of teenagers on the school steps. They laughed, heads thrown back, as if sharing a terrific joke, their hands plunged into bags of the bright-colored, chemically-flavored and vitamin-fortified, gummy-worm treats.

Eyeing another camera, Zera was gripped by self-consciousness. She shifted the notebook around and wiped her damp palms on the hips of her jeans, thinking of Tiffany’s warning that her rock and roll T-shirts
were “inappropriate for school.” A comment which was inevitably followed with a smug, “I’m surprised they let you wear them.” Without thinking, Zera brought her notebook to her chest, covering the flaming guitar logo on her Pyro T-shirt. When she realized what she had done her arms came down and her jaw clenched.
No. I love my T-shirts.
She had a whole trunk-full that belonged to her musician father; really old ones, featuring a variety of rock bands from The Beatles to the White Stripes.
They can’t be calling me in to change my shirt, kids wear stuff like this all the time.
The only
other thing she could think of was that something had happened to The Toad, or to Nonny. That last possibility, too horrible to consider, made her catch her breath. 

Zera found the receptionist’s desk empty and no one else in the office but Jake, the boy she’d embarrassed in the cafeteria during spring break. He was sitting in a chair next to the door, obviously waiting for his turn in the principal’s office. He looked up at her, ran his fingers through his blond bangs. “Hi.”

He doesn’t hate me?
The guilt over what she’d said to him in March had stuck with her. She blurted, “I’m sorry about that comment. About drugs.”

To her surprise, he smiled. “It’s cool. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I say stupid stuff sometimes, that’s why I’m here now.” He locked eyes with her. “I just thought, well, those shirts you wear are pretty awesome.”

“They belonged to my dad,” Zera said, cringing inside as soon as the words left her mouth.
That’s not awkward
.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Sorry.” He hadn’t looked away.

Zera couldn’t help but notice how blue his eyes were. “Um, Tinsel told me to tell you to come on in when you showed up,” he said. “She’s going to ‘deal with me’ later.” The grin broke out again. “Good luck.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks.”

Zera went to the principal’s office door.
Yep, I am smooth
. She swallowed, and knocked.

“Come in,” a welcoming voice called.

Zera cautiously opened the door to the sight of Principal Tinsel, sitting behind her desk, bestowing upon her the best Miss America smile ever. She waved Zera in. The too-big smile and friendly wave caused Zera to purposely bring up her notebook again to hide her shirt’s logo.

  She entered on rubbery legs, trying to have an expression more pleasant than worried.

“It’s so good to see you again, Zera,” Mrs. Tinsel said.

Zera was startled to see The Toad and Tiffany sitting in chairs across from Mrs. Tinsel’s desk. Theodore nodded hello and Tiffany looked like she had that morning, only happier, if that were possible — the Cheshire Cat who had now swallowed the canary. Zera slowly let out the breath she’d held since
entering the room, hoping no one noticed.
Okaaaay
, she thought.
The not-so-dynamic duo is here. No one looks upset. Whatever it is, it can’t be too bad.

“Hello,” Zera took a couple of steps toward Mrs. Tinsel’s desk. “Hi,” she said to her uncle and Tiffany.

“Your uncle is here to take you out of school a few days early,” the administrator announced. “I hear you’re going to your grandmother’s this summer.”

What?
Zera’s heart thumped with joy and her stomach now felt like it was filled with fluttering butterflies. Thrilled butterflies,
free
butterflies. All she could do was stare at Mrs. Tinsel. “Nonny’s?” She turned to The Toad and Tiffany. “Really?”

They nodded.  

“We’ve made all the arrangements.” Tiffany said. She rose gracefully from her seat. The Toad attempted to follow suit, but caught his jacket pocket on the arm of the wooden chair, pulling the entire chair forward with a screech. Everyone pretended not to notice as he un-snagged himself. “You just need to collect your things from your locker and turn in your books,” said Tiffany, taking over for Mrs. Tinsel. “I even packed your suitcase for you.”

The principal stood. “You had
only one more final, tomorrow in Biology. Your work in that class has been the best we’ve seen here at Manning, so we don’t really feel we’re stretching the rules by letting you leave with an ‘A.’ Good luck with your new job, Mr. Green.”

Zera looked at them both questioningly. Tiffany seemed in competition to try to outshine Mrs. Tinsel’s smile wattage while The Toad stood there, looking, if anything, a little uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” he said, shaking Mrs. Tinsel’s hand. 

Fine.
No explanation for the kid
.
Now I see what was going on this morning. The two of them were making big plans.

Jake nodded and smiled at her when she left. A few minutes later, just as the bell rang for lunch, Zera shuffled out of Manning High School behind The Toad and Tiffany.

“So, this job, it’s a really good one?” she asked The Toad on the way to the parking lot.

“Yes, it is. But it’s not finalized yet.”

“When will you know?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Is it in Colorado?”

“L.A.”

“Los Angeles? Wow. So we’d be moving there? Or . . .” She didn’t want to say it, ask if there was a possibility she might stay in Colorado with her grandmother.

Tiffany cut in. “Let’s not talk about it right now. We’re in a hurry.”

Ignoring Tiffany, Zera asked, “And Nonny knows I’m coming? How long am I staying?”

“Your Uncle Theodore called her last night. We don’t know exactly how long you may be with your grandmother this summer, but we’ll let you know as soon as we know.”

As soon as “we” know.
Tiffany was always talking like they were married.

Heading toward Tiffany’s car, Zera thought,
I don’t know what’s going on, but I couldn’t care less right now. Getting back home is good and I’m going to see Nonny!

Tiffany, sashaying directly in front of her, wore the pink shirt she had on at breakfast, accompanied with a tight black skirt, black leather flats, and a faux leopard-skin purse. A pink silk scarf covered most of her hair, and, to complete the weird 1950s-era movie star look, she put on a pair of cat-eyed sunglasses.

  “Did you bring my plants?” Zera asked The Toad as they neared the convertible.

“Of course he did.” Tiffany turned around to face Zera. “It would have been very inconvenient for us to find someone to take care of them as we’ll both be out of town. We’ve had to do a lot this morning, Zera. I had to make at least a dozen calls just to get my work responsibilities in order!” She turned to The Toad. “I just thought of something else we’ll have to figure out.
Moving your things.” She laughed. “Though you’ll certainly be able to afford to replace most everything.”

“Can I see them?” asked Zera.

Tiffany tossed her keys to The Toad. He caught them for a moment in one large warty hand, before fumbling and dropping them.

“It’s the round one, right?” he asked, picking them up.

“Yes, Teddy.”

He unlocked the trunk. It was filled with suitcases; two black ones that belonged to her uncle, her red plaid suitcase, and several large leopard-print ones, Tiffany’s. Stuck in a corner was a cardboard box filled with plants. Sunny sat secure in her terrarium, in the middle of them all, cushioned by a thick towel.