Wolf Read - The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring

Annwn awoke grasping Xavier tightly in a pitiful attempt to get as much warmth from his scrawny body as she could. Miranda held her just as firmly, shivering from the cold. Bright streamers of sunlight poured between the green water-lily-like foliage of the circuleaf trees, casting circular and triangular pincushion shadows on the loamy soil. The day would warm soon, judging by Barnard’s brilliant white luminescence.

The foliage wasn’t there yesterday! Yet there the leaves were, covering all the trees in a dense canopy of green like none other she had seen since leaving Earth. Today would be the day, the great pollen burst.

She didn’t know whether just to lie on the ground, hugging Xavier for comfort and succumb to the inevitable, or run. Indecisive and very tired, she momentarily studied the beauty of a world that she grew up thinking was too far away for her ever to visit in person, a world almost magical in its distance and in the marvels which thrived on its surface. Now she was here, in a wonderland gone mad, a wonderland that could kill with a single breath, a world to be feared and respected.

A breeze picked up, washing gently through the treetops, carrying a musty, salty scent. She had experienced that smell before, while walking the beaches of Mendocino. What a wonderful time that had been, running back and forth on the sand, climbing rocks, watching huge breakers crash ashore. Swimming among the waves, a large seal had paused and stared intently at her. She never could forget the intelligence behind the gaze—she honestly felt as if the seal studied her more than she studied it.

A strong gust carried the scent thickly into the wood, wafting sharply around her nostrils. She remembered asking her father why the Mendocino wind was so strong, and so cold, despite it being midsummer. He explained the onshore effect, and how warming air from the hot Sacramento valley rose, causing air cooled by the ocean to be pulled inland. The ocean air was fresh air, cleaning San Francisco out on many a summer day that would have been polluted, keeping the city breathing in the twentieth century.

With a surge of adrenaline, she stood up. Xavier wobbled to his feet and stretched. Miranda rolled to her side and moaned. “Everyone!” Annwn yelled. “To the beach! We’re almost there! Run! ”

Wildwind pushed himself upright with shaky muscles. Dead leaves fell from his backside. He groggily looked at Annwn. “Huh?”

“The beach,” she yelled, unable to control her excitement, and pointing westward, down the slope, “it’ll be safe there!”

“Come on, guys!” Wildwind urged. He trotted down the hill with a slight stagger, pushing through thick foliage that hadn’t been around yesterday evening.

Kwazar slowly stood up, staring at Miranda’s unmoving form. Looking at Annwn, his expression asked, “You need any help?”

“Get moving,” she said appreciatively. “I’ll attend to Miranda.”

He nodded, understanding. “She’s your best friend.” Turning around, he crashed along the path that Wildwind had made, having a difficult time finding his way among plants which had almost completely rebounded. Xavier, yipping in excitement, followed Kwazar, becoming lost to sight among the greenery.

Kneeling, Annwn gave Miranda a gentle shove. “Are you awake?”

Miranda turned her head and opened crusty eyes. “Barely,” she whispered.

“We’ve got to go,” Annwn said seriously.

Maintaining her whisper, Miranda said, “My body doesn’t want to move.”

Shocked at Miranda’s words, Annwn replied, “You have to!” Annwn helped Miranda to her feet.

Miranda cried out in pain, and shed a few tears. “Oh! My legs. They’re so stiff.”

“You think you can walk?”

Miranda shook her head. “I need help.”

Wrapping Miranda’s arm around her shoulder, Annwn walked in the direction Wildwind and Kwazar had rushed. Miranda shivered, and she took small steps, keeping her legs straight.

Annwn carefully guided Miranda, feeling dizzy, her stomach a creature scratching from within, desperately seeking food.

Xavier continued yapping ahead, a good thing, Annwn realized. His noise would give her something to follow if she lost her direction sense in the densely growing foliage.

“Miranda, I know you’re not feeling well. But we’ve got to hurry. These plants aren’t waiting.”

“I’m trying,” Miranda gasped. “Pull me, and I’ll follow.”

Annwn accelerated, running as hard as she thought Miranda could go. Miranda’s firm grip reassured her.

Once barren, the forest floor writhed with stems and leaves from seeds and bulbs that had erupted during the night. The rapidity of growth shocked her. If she were willing to stop, she was absolutely sure that her eyes would catch the vegetation stretching upward in real time.

She forced her tired, aching legs into a faster pace. Miranda breathed in ragged gasps, keeping Annwn’s speed.

Leaves and flower stems grabbed her, wrapping around her tiny wrists and nimble ankles. She got the feeling that the plants were trying to stop her, actually wanted to poison her and Miranda with their pollen. No! She kept pushing forward, twisting and spinning through the dense vegetable matter, carrying Miranda almost solely on her own momentum as if she and her friend were performing a strange dance, an adagio to Bode’s spring. Circuleaf branches slapped her face, snapping with tiny pops. Large budding stalks bowed to her determination. Thick, fleshy leaves whined and crackled underfoot. Trees shuddered their protest as she shoved them aside. Small colorful creatures buzzed their annoyance at her rampage, spiraling around her in a deranged, alien accompaniment.

A fire burned in her chest as her lungs sent their message for more oxygen. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore, and marveled at how the two abused limbs kept moving, carrying her forward through the instant jungle of their own accord. Miranda, she thought, keep moving, please keep moving.

Exotic smells excited her nose, some familiar, some strange. A tangy, minty scent reminiscent of Idaho’s sagebrush after a summer shower. Sharp, musty, like shelf fungus growing in a California redwood forest. Sweet, sugary, as if from the honeysuckles that grew in her backyard. Warm and overpoweringly sour, like the icky tar from La Brea. Luscious pine sap, as if from the stand of Douglas fir she had played among. Spicy eucalyptus, elongated leaves flickering in a cool Sausalito breeze. Nauseating gasoline fumes, left over from a bygone era. A fit of sneezing overtook her, causing her to stagger through the flood of plants. Her sinuses filled with mucus, shutting down the olfactory sense while dribbling from her nostrils.

White flower clusters unfurled around her. As if producing colored smoke, the blooms spewed small clouds of spoor. Pollen drifted directly into Annwn’s reddening face. Surprised that she didn’t die outright, she thought, Maybe one needs to inhale a lot of pollen.

Pseudoinsects pounced upon the blooming stalks with reckless abandon, gathering in a thick multi-hued frenzy, feeding eagerly, their small bodies becoming powder-coated. Some landed on her sensitive cheeks in an effort to eat the little grains that had affixed to her skin. Other microfauna licked at the nectar spattering all over her as generous flowers slapped every extremity. Irritated, she shoved the spherical blooms from her path, slapped the alien bugs from her hair, and shut her eyes against the thick clouds of pollen.

Glancing back through puffy eyes, she saw Miranda quietly crying, tears eroding wavy rivulets over a face coated in ugly patches of sticky plant juices and dried blood from small scratches. She desperately maintained Annwn’s increasingly frantic pace, gripping fiercely with both hands.