A. Colucci - Seeders

“No, I want you to feel better.”

“I have work to do,” he shouted, looking drunk. “Important work! You can’t stop me. They said you’d try to stop me.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” she pleaded. “You said so yourself, Jules. They’re controlling your mind. Something is happening with these plants. That growth, that fungus, it’s like some awful drug.”

“There are no drugs!” he bellowed.

Before she could back away, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her like before.

“Stop it, please. You’re hurting me.”

Jules realized what he was doing and let go. He staggered across the room and left quickly out the door and across the patio.

Isabelle ran to the door and fell against it. Several minutes passed before she had the courage to move. She wrung her hands together but it barely kept them from shaking. There had to be another way to get off the island, and she gazed over the room.

The green notebook was lying on the desk. The Eden Project . She greedily flipped through the pages. There were numbered columns with long lists of plant species. Instructions on filling plastic bags with the proper mixture of soil, nutrients, and water.

Fill pallets with species that require similar care.

Label pallets with place of destination.

She flipped through the pages and found a crudely drawn world map. Red lines showed the route to be taken for a journey by land and sea. It was an ambitious voyage, encompassing all seven continents. It seemed as if George was planning a trip, and he wanted to take the plants with him. There were more planting instructions on the next pages.

SEEDERS must be planted a good distance from human habitation.

SEEDERS may be planted individually or in clusters three feet apart. For best results, only healthy specimens should be used.

SEEDERS are not to be moved or transported under any circumstances while rooting is in progress. Rooting may take one to three years.

Seeders, she thought, of course. Then she realized how deep her father had fallen. George believed the plants on the island were controlling his mind, forcing him to transport them across the globe so the fungus would infect the world’s food supply. George was going to seed the world with plants that would make people crazy.

“I’M GOING CRAZY in this house!”

Monica threw a pillow at the bedroom window. Luke stepped back just in time, and then continued monitoring the coast. Monica’s bedroom had the best view of the mainland. He looked over the treetops to the flat sea: not a single boat.

“I’m so bored,” she said.

For three days there had been little to do and cabin fever had set in. Even kissing had lost some excitement, especially for Luke, who was aching to go farther. But his mother seemed to always show up. It was like she had make-out radar. Then she would order them to read books or search through boxes in the attic. Luke had become quite adept at kissing, and he practiced self-control of his body with utmost seriousness. He wanted to be alone with Monica as much as she wanted to get out of the house.

“So let’s leave,” he told her. “Go to the beach or something.”

“Really? You’re not scared to go out there?”

He squinted in thought. “Whatever I saw out there wasn’t real. You can’t be scared of something that’s not real. I’m pretty sure my mom is right about the biscuits and I haven’t eaten any in days so I’m probably okay now.”

“Finally you’re making sense. Where should we go?”

“The beach. We can bring the wet suits and snorkels. Check out that sunken boat.”

She grabbed her coat and declared, “ Foutons le camp. ”

“What?”

“Let’s freakin’ go already.”

There was a collection of flashlights in a kitchen drawer, none of them waterproof. So Luke sealed one in a Ziplock bag. The next stop was the shed, to pick up the snorkel gear.

Luke rolled open the door and they both stared wide-eyed at an empty wall. All the tools were gone, missing from their hooks, leaving a faded outline where they had been suspended to a peg board.

The only items still left were a small knife, a pair of cutting shears, and a crossbow.

“Maybe my mom took the rest. She’s so paranoid about Dr. Beecher.”

“What if she didn’t take them? What if he did?”

“Whoa,” he said and picked up the crossbow. “Sweet.”

“You know how to use that thing?”

“I’ll figure it out.” He inspected the weapon. “Bolt goes here. Pull this doohickey back. Trigger goes like this and bam .”

“We came for the snorkel stuff, right?”

He put down the bow and started putting all the snorkel gear in a trash bag. They stepped outside into the sun and started down the path to the woods.

“Maybe I should go back and get that crossbow,” he said.

“I’ll kick his ass if he tries to attack us,” she said smugly. They reached the entrance to the woods. “He’s British, for God sake. They don’t even have wrestling or football. Hell, even you could take him down if you tried.”

“Thanks.” He took her hand and they walked in silence most of the way. Luke wished he could think of something to say to take his mind off the creepiness of the woods. When they reached the fork, he took a quick glance down the trail where Ginny got the ax. He started whistling to break the silence.

There was the sound of someone coughing to their right, and they paused.

“Don’t stop,” Monica said, looking frightened.

“Hold on.” He squinted between the trees and saw Jules squatting on a rock, blending in with a pallet of earth tones. Luke almost didn’t recognize him at first. Jules wore only gray underwear, his face was hairy, and his body was caked with mud.

“What should we do?” Monica whispered.

“Just keep walking. He isn’t doing anything.”

They moved on.

“Your mom’s right. He’s insane.”

“Too bad. He seemed like a real smart guy.”

They reached the beach and broke into a run across the sand like children discovering their freedom for the first time. The sheer openness of both sky and sea gave the illusion of a safe harbor. While the house and woods were claustrophobic, the ocean was infinite.

After a moment, they sat down on the sand and looked at the horizon.

Monica squinted at the mast sticking out of the water. “You still want to do this?”

Luke laid the equipment on the sand. “We could hang out on the beach and make out.”

She ignored the comment, rising to her feet and brushing off the sand. “Let’s go.”

They followed the inlet until the coast became rocky. The jetty stretched twenty meters into the sea. Luke helped Monica over the gaps where plumes of water spouted between the flat stones. At last, they reached the sunken boat and could see the mast clearly. It was low tide and a large section of pole stuck out of the surface.

They took off layers of clothing down to their underwear. They shivered and rushed to get into the wet suits. Luke had trouble squeezing into the tight rubber material and became acutely aware that his body had grown tall and muscular.

He could see Monica watching him, and he flexed his muscles getting into the suit.

She smiled at him. “You sure this is gonna keep us warm?”

He nodded and checked her seal. Then he crouched down on the rock and slid off the jetty, wading up to his knees and holding tight to the flashlight. The water had a greenish glow and it was clear enough to see his flippers on the sandy bottom. Luke helped Monica into the water and explained how to use the snorkel. She tried the mask, getting used to the feel of it. The flippers were more difficult but she slowly caught on.