The Metaphor: Part Five.

by | Feb 24, 2024 | Uncategorized | 2 comments

He kissed the tiny bud at the end of the top limb.

“We’re going to have a flower,” whispered Mikel, a quiver in his voice. He thought back to the many times when his late wife would come downstairs shaking her head. The false alarms because she was a few days late. They never found out why they were not blessed with children. “A child!” He blurted out, his memories obscuring his thoughts just as the tears obscured his vision.

“A baby? Don’t be so stupid man! Don’t you know anything about plants? I thought you were a farmer,” the shrub jabbed. Her words pierced his already damaged heart, drawing flesh blood.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me,” Mikel replied, wiping his eyes on the heels of his hands.

“So you should be. It takes two to tango and I don’t include you in that!” Another crushing blow from the vindictive little bush sent him reeling further into the past. His wife used to take their baroness out on him, a monthly torment that ended in crushing guilt for both of them. He got up and walked out of the door, a thick mist had descended over him. He didn’t hear the calls of the plant as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey! Don’t just walk away like that. I’m talking to you. Where are you going? Mikel? Come back here. Mikel? Look, I’m sorry for snapping.” The words bounced off the closed door and there was silence.

Several hours passed before the old man returned. He was shocked at what he found. The lush shining leaves of the plant had gone, replaced by wrinkled, matt fronds that hung limply over the edge of the pot. Quickly, he filled the mug with water and poured it into the soil.

“Now look at what you’ve done. Where did you go? That was so unfair, you know I can’t follow.” The plant moaned.

“I’m sorry. I was so ignorant. Please forgive me. I went out and did some work on the top field,” Mikel answered, cupping the pot in both hands.

“I forgive you old man. You know you’re special to me? My Mr Perfect. I think it’s time I got a bigger pot. Do that and get some fresh soil and I’ll tell you something,” said the little bush, who seemed to flourish before him.

An hour or so later, Mikel had gently transplanted the plant into her new home. He handled her carefully in between pots, her vulnerable lightness giving him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. The plant seemed to read this feeling.

“You like handling me, don’t you, old man? You do know it can never come to anything?” Her words shocked him as he patted the soil around her base. She continued. “Certain things are sacrosanct. Human and plant interaction is one.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Mikel replied, a cold wave of shame pouring over him.

“We live together, you and I, but in the outside world, they wouldn’t understand. In my previous life a similar thing happened. I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have. I was weak, according to my father. I never saw him again because he was weak too. Don’t be weak old man. Let’s just enjoy what we have.”

“But I do. I don’t want anything else and I don’t care what other people say,” Mikel responded, bringing his face up to the now glistening leaves. He kissed the tiny bud at the end of the top limb.

“Good, we have an understanding. However, there is something we can do. Let’s talk about reproduction.” The plant’s words slapped the old man in the face.

“Reproduction?” He stammered.

“Yes, of course! We can still do it, you know. I just have to show you how. Man, you can be so thick sometimes!” The plant gave a little giggle and seemed to visibly shake in front of his eyes.

2 Comments

  1. Kenneth Childs

    Some people do apparently talk to plants and as for tree huggers.

    Reply
  2. brian

    Read on and find out if it’s a hug, or something else! See you this afternoon.

    Reply

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