Author’s Notes: This is a Thoughtstronauts short story I’ve been trying to write for weeks. I’ve had the idea for over a year but I’ve been scarred of making another piece and calling it “Thoughtstronauts.” I want it to be as good as issue one, but in writing. It’s hard to follow up Lane’s art with no visuals, but hopefully I’ve recreated the magic here a second time.
This story goes out to anyone who has invested years of their life towards a dream.
Flowers. Flowers petals flowers. The petals glow blue. Glowing flowers. A girl. Round face, big eyes, tan skin. She tells me “Water.” Says it like it’s obvious. Flowers. Flowers water petals glowing flowers. “It needs time.” she says to me. I’m floating. We’re floating. The flower floats between us.
“Time” She says. I wake up.
My alarm has to be the worst sound in the world. What a weird dream. I keep my phone on the other side of the room, the trek helps me not go back to sleep. It’s all a part of my mourning routine. As is side stepping unwashed clothes and ignoring my pile of bills. Gracious routine for a sophisticated up and coming Cali actress. Where’s my morning soda?
“In other news, California continues to deteriorate due to the drought. Usage is being rationed as water structures are being shut down all across the state. Public pools are closed for the time being and private pools are expected to see increased fines.”
NPR is a great way to catch up with the world, but does it always have to be so depressing? My night stand soda is flat, and the mini-fridge is empty. I’ll have to buy one on my way to work. My work clothes are huddled in a mess in front of the mirror. I take a look at the girl in the looking glass and wonder if she’s worth it. The girl that’s dreaming of being an actress. The girl who’s stuck making ends meet til she does. The girl that has to leave her apartment now if she plans on making it to work on time. As a waitress. In Los Angeles.
Sometimes we live the cliche.
Everyone in LA owns cars, but using the Metro saves you a ton of cash. Work’s not the worst. I get to wear nice clothes and spend the day in a fancy restaurant. My boss, Clinton, is…decent. For a boss. He can’t seem to decide who he wants to be. Some days he’s personable and chummy, other days he’s an asshat. He was a theater major, now a restaurant manager. But a few waitresses have made it out of here with gigs! With a bit of luck and hard work it could happen to me.
My shifts are normal. Clock in, smile big, work my charm for tips. It’s like being paid for acting lessons. I take the LA Metro from downtown home. The Metro was quiet today, no one is at my stop. There’s a plant growing on the tracks, a small flower. It hasn’t really grown yet it’s just starting to sprout but it seems like…Maybe…It’s glowing? Like in my dream? That doesn’t make sense. I need to go home. I need to go to bed, I’m seeing things.
“May I sit here?”
I turn my head and see…A girl. The one from my dream? Round face, big eyes, tan skin. She has a hairband with a yellow flower in it, and a wardrobe thats…Adorable, to put it mildly. All yellow, skirts and stockings, boots and coats. I’m glad people can hold onto their inner child.
“Yeah, of course.” Am I smiling? I hope I’m smiling. Sometimes I look like I’m miserable when I’m not. She smiles back at me and sits.
“I’m Professor Pearl, I’ve been coming by the past few days to see that.” She’s pointing at the flower. “I’ve been watching it grow for days.”
I believe her. I’ve never seen her at this Metro stop, or in LA, but I can tell it’s the truth.
“It takes dedication, making something grow. Wonderful things need time and care to flourish. You can’t just be there in a pinch. It has to be every day, over and over, a constant current.”
A train is arriving. One I’ve never seen before. She looks at me and asks, “Do you think you can do that?”
“…yeah.” I’m agreeing, but I don’t feel like we’re talking about the flower. The train that shows up is definitely not the normal public transit. It’s yellow, with big bright windows and the beams of a locomotive, but no wheels. Is it floating? Holy crap it’s floating! And is that a cat wearing a conductors hat at the front of the train? I’m home, I’m already asleep, I’m dreaming. Pearl gets up and puts her hand on my shoulder. This is real.
“That’s my train, gotta go.” Pearl walks into the cat driven train like it’s normal and waves goodbye. I wave back as the doors shut. My train comes on the tracks right after hers leaves. Same train it’s always been, same passengers and timing. No cat conductors, no levitating cars, nothing cool. No fair, I wanna ride Pearl’s train.
It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Pearl. Work’s been the same, but I keep checking on the flower at the station. No one seems to notice it but me. I’ve been carrying a water bottom with me and pouring out a bit for it once or twice a week. It’s only a little bit but I hope it helps. Plus i’ve stopped drinking soda, started doing yoga, and I’m trying out for commercials. Even though I’ve been at it for weeks nothing’s come through, but It hasn’t stopped me. These things take time, you have to put the time in or nothing will change.
It was raining today, so no one came into the restaurant. Honestly, it’s a good thing. I’ve been on my phone all day checking my emails over and over. I’ve gone through two rounds of casting and they’re down to the final three actresses. I’m one of them….Holy shit, I’m one of them! They need me in tomorrow for the final review, but I’m scheduled for work. Clinton has to let me go to this, it’s my first shot!
“Hey Bossman!” I shout and turn around. He’s incredibly busy with the incredibly high priority task of wine glass shining.
“Yes Becky?”
“I just found out that I have a tryout tomorrow for a spot in a commercial and i’m one of the last three actresses chosen and I really need to go but I don’t know if anyone can cover my shift and it’s super important to me please please PLEASE find someone to cover for me!?” I say in what must have been a single breath. Forgive my excitement. Actually don’t, I’m ecstatic, I have a right to be.
“Let me check the schedule.” His walk to the back room feels like an eternity. The time between knowing and not, the schrodinger’s box of the future, always seems to turn your stomach in ways you never thought possible. It’s like mixing two incredible flavors of froyo that just don’t work well together. The Lime Tart, Peanut butter-hazelnut combination no one asked for.
“Yeah…” Is this a good yeah or a bad yeah? “yeah…” That yeah was a bad yeah definitely a bad yeah. “Yeah it doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to get anyone to cover in that time. Can you reschedule?”
“I…You can’t just…It’s a tryout!” How the fuck does he not know you can’t reschedule a tryout?
“Well you can call around and ask, but I’m not sure you can find coverage in time. Nothing I can do about it, sorry buddy.” I’m not you buddy, guy. Friggin jerk face dumb butt. Work ending doesn’t make me feel better. Neither does walking to the train station. In the rain. Seriously how often does it rain in LA? The station is empty again, quiet. No one here but me and the little blue flower. It’s bloomed! It’s gorgeous and blue and…Glowing? Glowing! Like in the dream I had weeks ago. The dream with-
“Do you have any water?” I turn around to see my mysterious new friend looking incredibly concerned.
“Pearl! What’s up-”
“Water, and a container. A bottle, Nalgene, mason jar, any kind of container with water!”
“Do I have…Yes, yes I do why?”
“Good, I need you to jump on these train tracks with me.”
“What?!” There’s a buzzing coming from the end of the tracks. The train should be arriving in minutes. Pearl must be insane, there has to be a car coming.
“Hurry! We need to save the flower!”
“The flower?! Pearl we’ll get run over.”
“We won’t, just trust me.” And just like that, Pearl hops on the tracks. What is with her? She’s more concerned for that flower than her life. She turns around and looks at me with her hand stretched, waiting.
“I’m here, will you join me?”
“I can’t, I don’t want to get run over, it could mean my life.”
“Listen, I’ve spent the past few weeks viewing, observing and monitoring this flower. I can’t just let it die.”
“But it’s just a flower.”
“No, it’s a life. It has purpose. It has meaning. Little beautiful things like flowers are nature’s art, they give people a reason to live. The beautiful things in this world take time to bloom and nurturing to reach that state, I can’t just let this thing die. Not after the time I’ve put into it, and I’m willing to risk these train tracks to keep that alive.”
She’s…she’s right.
“Will you join me?”
I join Pearl on the tracks. What she said was the truth. Something might seem frivolous or tiny to someone else but results take time, and life is an investment. I climb down onto the train tracks, constantly reminding myself of how stupid this is. The buzzing keeps getting louder, and when I look down the tunnel I see two bright lights headed my way.
“Pearl…”
“Trust me, i’ve got this.”
The buzzing is louder now, and I can see a shape coming closer. The lights at the end of the tunnel are getting larger. I turn to Pearl and she’s just…squatting. Collecting this flower into my water bottle like nothing’s going on.
“Pearl…”
“I’ve got this.” She says without looking up. Still pulling the dirt into my water bottle.
I look down the tunnel and there are more lights now. Dozens, opening more and more as time goes on.
“Pearllll….”
“We’re gonna be ok!” she says reassuringly. She’s starting to close my water bottle. The flower’s completely inside. The buzzing is deafeningly loud, the lights are almost at us. We’re gonna get run over. I’m going to die.
“PEARL!”
“Got it!” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out…A glow stick? What in the world is a glow stick going to do to protect us from the on coming…Bugs? Hundreds of bugs, the size of a nerf football just flying right at us. Scarab shaped, hungry and angry, coming straight for us! I hear the familiar crunch of a glowstick being lit as Pearl and I are covered in a bright and yellow light. He glowstick, it made some kind of bubble of light. The bugs are bouncing right off the outer layer and fly around it. It feels like we’re in the heart of a storm.
“What are those?”
“Serrasects, bugs that eat away at positive thoughts. It’s ok, they’re only migrating though. The question is to where.”
“They wanted the flower?”
“They did, but it’s small in comparison to where they’re going. They could have eaten it up but we decided that the flower was more important. We stayed, and stuck to it. Sometimes you have to throw yourself on the tracks for something that’s important, and when the bad stuff blows over you’re just fine. In fact, you’re stronger.”
Pearl opens the jar and plucks a single petal. She puts in a clear test tube before handing me back my water bottle with the flower inside.
“The petals from this flower make a fantastic tea you know.” I wouldn’t know the first thing about making a tea from flowers, but I nod in agreement. Pearl and I climb back on the tracks. She gives me a hug, I hug her back.
“My train’s here, I have to go. Can you take care of that flower for me?”
“Of course, thank you.” She gets into her impossible cat conducted train and leaves me at the mundane station. I’ve got my glowing flower and a train to catch before I walk home in the rain and tell my boss I can’t show up for work tomorrow.
I’m up early this morning. I start my day by calling work in a few hours before my shift. “I can’t come in today. I’m booked.”
“But we don’t have a waitress.”
“You’ll just have to call someone in, I’ll be in for the rest of my schedule, and I’ll keep coming in but I told you I’m an actress. I’ll try to schedule this stuff ahead of time from now on, but I can’t come in today. I need this role.”
“I understand, I’ll find a cover. Try to give me a heads up next time, ok?”
“I will.”
I look at the flower on my night stand, then turn to the neatly folded outfit by my mirror. Last night’s storm is over, and I’m ready for today.
The Writing of Rafi Diaz 