“Thank you for calling Mitchell Agency, this is Ms. Mitchell speaking.”
“Hi, Ms. Mitchell,
this is Sylvia Bishop. Is this still a good time to discuss your offer?”
“Hello, Ms.
Bishop. It is, thank you for calling on time.” She didn’t need to know that I’d
been sitting by the phone for the last five minutes, notepad and pen nearby, to
ensure I wouldn’t be late. “From your email, you said you’d gotten a general
idea of what we do from Sebastian, but you still have some questions for me?”
I silently
took a deep breath and blew it out, reminding myself yet again that this was
just another business call; there was no need to get overly nervous about being
on the phone with someone who knew more about me than I did of them.
“Yes,
please. I looked up the process of becoming a licensed private investigator in
Maryland, and other than the background check, it appears I have all the
required qualifications. Do you have any educational or other requirements for
employees, and what are you looking for as far as a time commitment?”
“Good, I’m glad
you did your research. I do not have any additional education requirements for
my employees; I’ve found that different backgrounds bring diverse insights to
the job rather than everyone being trained the same way. My people work in
pairs on most cases, and I have a legal team that provides requirements on each
case when it’s assigned, such as what is admissible in court. There are some
basics you’ll need to know about Maryland laws, but I can teach you that.” Good;
I had one degree in Information Technology already and wasn’t interested in
getting another one.
“As far as
time commitment - Sebastian said you were hesitant to give up your business,
and from what I found of you online, I can respect that. You’ve built a solid
niche for yourself, which speaks to your work ethics.” Bast had warned me that
his boss was up front about things; her tone of voice wasn’t quite brusque, but
it did not contain any patience for people who couldn’t keep up. “I need
another full-time investigator, though. I don’t like pushing my people past
forty hours a week, especially since cases often have to be worked outside of
normal business hours. I’m getting to the point where my employees are putting
in overtime, and I don’t like to put that stress on them. The background check
usually takes about ninety days, so hiring you now means you’ll be coming on right
when I need you.”
I frowned,
annoyed at the implied assumption that I’d be willing to drop everything for
this job offer.
“Typically,
I have my people work in the office two to three days a week from nine-to-five
and out in the field the rest of the time. As I said earlier, I prefer to keep
my employees right around forty hours a week, but field hours can range from
early morning to late night depending on what the case calls for – you need to keep
your schedule open and be flexible to do this job.” My frown deepened. I’d
gotten accustomed to some attitude from clients, but I was not pleased at
having someone dictate my life for a job I hadn’t even taken. I opened my mouth
to decline out of principle, but she continued before I could speak.
“Sebastian told me you have some
skill similar to his speaking with animals. I won’t lie, I didn’t believe him
at first, but he’s solved several cases that had the rest of our team stumped.
I have no other explanation for how he’s gotten the information he has at times,
so I’ve taken his claim as truth. He refused to tell me what, exactly, your
skill is, though. Are you willing to tell me so that, if you do take the job, I
can assign you cases that play to your strengths?”
I sat for a
moment, surprised at the unexpected consideration – both from Bast for keeping
my secret and from Ms. Mitchell, who had seemed downright presumptuous a moment
ago. Then the penny dropped: I had projected myself onto her. I would only be that
blunt if I knew the other person well and was already sure of their answer. She
wasn’t assuming I’d accept, she was simply telling me what I’d need to know if
I did.
“I
apologize for my silence, Ms. Mitchell. Bast – Sebastian – is the first person
I’ve told about my skill in over ten years, and I am unused to discussing it with
anyone.” I hesitated, then figured what the hell. If she had accepted Bast’s skill,
it was unlikely that she’d mock me for mine; maybe it was time to get past my
learned habit of secrecy.
“He is
right, our skills are similar. He can talk to animals, and I… can communicate
with plants.” There was silence for a moment, and I wondered if I should
explain myself further.
“Plants.
Got it. Any plants?” She sounded
unsurprised, as if she were asking routine interview questions, and it threw me
for a moment.
“Uh, yes.
Well, typical flora, at least – trees, bushes, annuals, perennials, and
grasses. I haven’t tried communicating with molds or fungi, because there are
usually better options to talk to nearby in the wild, and I don’t want mold in
my house.”
“Ok. Any
restrictions I should know about?”
“Communication
isn’t fast. It takes a couple minutes for me to establish a conversation, and
the older the plant, the slower it communicates. I can’t run by and snap out
‘which way did they go’ type questions.” I heard a pen scratching in the
background and took a moment to think of what else might be pertinent.
“They – the
plants – are not very precise about telling humans apart. They usually get a
general impression of relative height, shape, and temperament, but if you had
two people who looked similar, they probably wouldn’t be able to distinguish which
was which unless they’d spent a lot of time around one person.”
“A lot of
time, how so? Days? Months? Years?”
“Mm,
depends on the plant, really. Houseplants, probably a week or two to become
familiar with someone who’s home most of the day, a month for someone who works
outside the house. Trees on a main route – not going to happen. They’d need
continued interaction with a single person for an hour or so every day until it
sinks in that it’s the same human. A tree could tell you that someone went by after dark, but not who
it was or what time it was. Time is a human construct; plants don’t have much
reference other than the sun.”
More pen
scratching, but I remained silent. I couldn’t think of anything else that would
be important, and I was getting a little worn out by her questions and the
conversational pace. Bast was energetic and friendly; this woman took energy to
interact with. And with that, I realized I’d already made my decision on the
job offer.
“Alright,
anything else I should know?”
“That’s
pretty much it as far as my communication skill goes. And,” I continued, before
she could take the reins of the conversation again. “I appreciate the
opportunity, but I will have to decline on the full-time job offer. As you
mentioned earlier, my business is doing well, and I am proud of what I’ve
created. I do not want to give that up. I would, however, like to extend a
counteroffer.”
“Go ahead.”
She rolled with fast changes much better than I did, her voice level and
unruffled.
“I do enjoy
my side ‘lost-and-found’ business, and helping Ba- Sebastian complete his case
piqued my interest. Would you be amenable to a consultant-type setup, where you
call me in to apply my skills as needed, rather than having me as a direct
employee?” There was a short pause before her reply.
“Let me run
the numbers and look into the legal side of things and I’ll get back to you. I
should have an answer for you by Thursday.” I smiled. I might not be able to
handle her personality well, but I definitely appreciated someone who set clear
expectations.
“Sounds
good. Again, thank you for the opportunity, and I look forward to hearing from
you.” She said goodbye and the line immediately went dead. I let my breath out
slowly and slumped back in my chair. The clock showed quarter past the hour,
but I felt worn out.
“Some
people are just so intense,” I told
the ceiling. “I wonder if that’s how trees feel when they talk to me – like how
on earth can this being do so much, so fast, and not be exhausted?” I shook my
head and straightened up. If she went with the consultant setup, it would be an
interesting boost to the side job, but I wasn’t going to waste time pondering
what-ifs. I’d budgeted half an hour for the call with Ms. Mitchell before I had
to head out for the next client meeting. I used the extra fifteen minutes to
catch up on work emails, then hung the “Out of Office” sign with my phone
number on my door and drove off to talk to some lawyers.
I pulled
into my apartment’s parking lot at half past five, heaving a sigh of relief at
being done with the workday. My office was comfortable enough, and sitting in
traffic wasn’t horrible, but there’s
something about coming home, changing out of work clothes, and knowing you can
be your entire weird self without thinking about who might see you. Speaking of
which…
After
turning off the ignition, I sat for a moment in the car, slowing my thoughts
down into communication mode. I reached out and ‘searched’ the area around me
to see if Frank was loitering for another surprise welcome home. I was a bit
surprised to realize I could hear the bushes off to one side; they had to be a
good ten feet away, and my range was usually smaller than that. Perhaps talking
to Frank so much over the weekend had made them focus their thoughts more.
Either way, I did not hear my errant green companion, so either he was being
uncharacteristically quiet, or he was still off on his travels. I got out of
the car, minding my head cleared the doorjamb just in case, and went home.
The
conversation with Bast’s boss had replayed in my brain as I was driving home,
and I realized I was hoping she’d call back and accept my offer. It had been
fun working with Bast, and he’d mentioned going to more places on the job than
he did in his social life. That idea appealed to me, since I’d have a reason to
go check something out and a reason to leave again, rather than a vague social
sense of “hanging out” somewhere for an indeterminate amount of time. I paused
as I reached the top of the stairs, displeased with how heavily I was breathing
after climbing the same three flights I had to use every day. Maybe it was time
to resume working out, regardless of Ms. Mitchell’s answer on the job.
Frank came
back as the sun was going down, around nine o’clock. I was curled up on the
couch with a book when I heard a ‘hello?’ from his windowsill.
“Hey Frank,
welcome back! How’d your day go?”
“Ahhh, hey
Sylvie. It was a good day. It is really
nice to be back in my pot after a day out.” I laughed, thinking how closely
that resembled my earlier thought about getting home.
“Does it
feel different, being out?”
“Hmm. Yeah,
it does. Sort of like… like I have to concentrate somewhat to keep who I am
together, if that makes sense. Like since I don’t have my leaves and roots to
keep me together, I have to have a
small part of me remembering who I am so all of me makes it back. Then when I
come back, I can stop thinking and relax. Take pleasure in the sun and – ahem –
the mist on my leaves and just feel for a while.” I chuckled at his not-so-subtle
request, and got up to grab the mister.
With no
pressing concerns on my mind, I enjoyed the misting nearly as much as he did;
his mental bursts of delight were similar to a warm cat purring on ones lap:
comforting and relaxing. Afterward, I sat with my back to the wall beneath his
windowsill, enjoying the moment and watching the sunlight fade in the
apartment. Frank broke the silence once twilight was complete.
“Ah, thank
you. That feels so nice after being out. Is that how a shower feels to you when
you get home?”
“I mean… I
don’t really know how a misting feels, but I’d guess so. Sort of like a break
from the outside world and a reminder that you’re home?”
“That
sounds about right. Oh, how’d your meetings go today? The ones with the lawyers
and that new guy’s boss?” His mental tone turned snippy on the last comment; despite
my reassurances, he still had reservations about Bast’s animal communication tempting
me.
“The lawyer
one went well; I took the job. I’m going in to their office on Friday and
Saturday to get familiar with their layout and setup remote access and
security, then I should be able to handle that with a couple hours of work per
week from my office. Thankfully, they don’t work late or on weekends, so
emergency calls would only be between 8:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m. during the work
week – not horrible, and the pay is a nice boost.” An extremely nice boost,
actually.
“Great! And
the… other meeting?” I chuckled.
“Frank, I told you I’m going to be here for you,
how many times now?” He humphed, quietly. “It went professionally, I suppose.
She was overwhelming – even on the phone – and there’s no way I could work with
someone that driven on a daily basis. I turned down her offer of a full-time
job, and made a counteroffer of being called in for specific cases. She didn’t
reject it immediately, and I’m guessing from someone like that, it means it’ll
happen.”
“Sigh. And
that means you’ll be hanging around that
guy more, right?” There was still some sting in the comment, but an
undertone of relief as well.
“Mm, not
daily or anything like that, but yeah, we’ll see each other now and then.” I
leaned my head back against the wall and looked up at Frank. “Remember how it
felt to be stuck in your pot, with no one but me to talk to? That’s what it
feels like to have to hide talking to you guys. There’s a whole side of me that
I have to keep away from other humans in order to interact with them smoothly,
and it gets old.
“Having
Bast around to talk about this is like you getting out of your pot and
reconnecting with other plants. There’s someone else like you, who knows what
you’re talking about.” He didn’t feel convinced, so I searched for a better
explanation. “How about all the times you’ve tried to explain how you eat
sunlight to me, and got frustrated that I wasn’t really getting it?”
“Ugh, yes.
It’s so obvious!” His answer was shaded with humor, though. We’d been over that
topic so many times, but I was clearly still missing something. He accepted my
limitations, but still teased me about it now and then – usually when I’d managed
to mangle a recipe.
“Yeah,
yeah, I hear you, grandpa,” I teased back. “Seriously though, isn’t it nice to
get out and talk to other plants, who get
what you’re saying? That’s how I feel with Bast, regardless of your opinions about his skills and my curiosity. It’s
nice to know you’re understood.”
“Fine, fine.
I guess I’ll have to find a way to deal with someone stealing you away from
me!” He huffed at me in mock exasperation. I swatted one of his leaves,
chuckling.
“You’ve
said that every time I’ve found a new friend or boyfriend, you nut, and I’m
still here.”
“That’s
because I’m better than they are – I know you better and I can anticipate your
every move.”
“Oh yeah?
That’s why you were so worried I’d
take this job and throw away my own business, right?”
“Heh,
alright, alright. I make mistakes every now and then. But still, you know I’m
right,” he ended, his tone a mix of reconciliation and teasing. I stuck my
tongue out at him because he was probably right, whatever that said about my
life.
“Anyway,
moving on,” I said, changing the topic with my usual conversational grace.
“Since I have to work on Saturday, I was thinking about taking a half day off
on Thursday. The Patapsco River has some parking areas only a couple minutes
away from here – would you be interested in going and checking it out with me?”
“What? Yes!
Of course I would! Really? Is it big? How big is it? Thursday is in like three
days, right?”
I laughed delightedly – he sounded exactly
like an excited kid being told they’re going to Disneyland, and I was glad he
couldn’t actually bounce around on
the windowsill the way his mind was bouncing from question to question.
“Ha ha,
yes! Thursday is three days away. The river itself isn’t huge, relatively
speaking. Most areas are too small for boats, but it’s got a decent flow rate.”
He listened to my answers practically radiating excitement, then crowed with
delight, his voice circling the room around me. That surprised me; I would have
said that excited movement was strictly a physiologically muscle-contained
response, but perhaps not?
“What on
earth was that, Frank?”
“Eeee-
what? What was what?”
“The…
whatever you just did, going around the room like that?”
“Oh, that.
Hm, I’m not really sure. I did that a couple times over the weekend, too, when
I found a new copse of trees to talk to. It feels… right? Excitement and
anticipation in the plant world doesn’t happen often, because who tells us
things that will happen in the future? Other than maybe a day or so of weather prediction,
we live in the now and remember the past; not much point in looking forward.
“But this!
Getting to go to a new place and knowing about it ahead of time? This is
exciting! And there’s nothing to do with that energy – I can’t throw out a new
leaf or root to take advantage of it. I’ve seen you and other humans move
around more when you’re excited, though, so it sort of… seemed right.” There
was a moment of silence, and I felt something
moving around the room, like a breath of air that wasn’t touching me.
“Hm, yup.
That feels right,” I heard next to me, then he continued zooming around the
room, showering the whole place with happy feelings. I laughed and let him run
around; after a few minutes settled back in his pot.
“All
better?”
“Hee! Yes,
thanks. So, when are we going?” I wondered how many times I’d hear this in the
next three days.
“I figured
I’d work in the morning, then come home for lunch and we could go out in the
afternoon. I will have to figure out how I’m going to transport you, though.
You’re not terribly compact anymore.” When we’d moved into this apartment, he’d
had one or two vines about three feet long. Now, his vines blanketed the
four-foot windowsill and more had grown up along a string to reach the top of
the glass opening as well. His pot was only eight inches across, but dirt is
heavy, and transporting that and a huge tangle of vines wouldn’t be easy.
“I’d say we
have two options. One, I could put you in a large box and sort of pile your
vines around and on top of you like I did when we moved here, or two, I could
trim you back.”
“Oof,
really? I guess I have spread out over the years, but this is a good window.” He paused for a moment, then sighed. “Any chance
you could, I don’t know, drape my vines over you and carry my pot? I’m quite
proud of how much I’ve grown here.” In response, I sent him an image of what
I’d look like if I did that, and how other people would react to some fruitcake
wrapped in vines wandering through the woods, holding a pot.
“Fine,
never mind. If we’re going to do this frequently, it would probably be best to
cut me back. This pot is starting to get a bit small, so if you trim me down,
it will last a few more years. I can always throw out more vines later.”
“Ok. Do you
want me to do that tonight, or wait until Thursday? And do you want any
offspring this time?” I remembered the first time my mother had trimmed back
the previous philodendron, and I was worried about throwing the cut leaves into
the trash. The next time I saw my grandma, I asked her if we were killing baby
plants by throwing away the extra leaves. She told me that plants only gained a
consciousness that we – or other plants – could talk to after they started
sending out roots, so throwing away trimmings was not something to lose sleep over.
“Can we
wait until tomorrow night? I’ll spend the day enjoying the sunshine and then be
ready for pruning in the evening. And no, thank you, on the offspring.” He’d
declined every time I asked, but this time he explained his reasoning. “I don’t
want a child who has my memories of talking with you to be stuck in a house
where they have no one to communicate with. Maybe once I get more comfortable
with being out-of-pot, and I can teach the next plant how to do it as well… but
for now, no. That would be too cruel.”
“Good point, I hadn’t even thought of that.” I wondered what had happened to the two indoor plants grandma had kept; I had declined adopting either one, as they’d reminded me too much of her. I shook my head to clear the memory of her house, looked up, and realized it was after ten o'clock: time to turn in. I heard Frank zoom around the living room a few times as I went through the evening routine, but everything was quiet again by the time I crawled into bed and turned out the light.
