Sally lies next to her husband looking at him thoughtfully, touching his gray, full hair gently with her fingertips, seeing his relaxed smile. She also thought about Sam’s passion for engineering. He is indeed absolutely top class in gathering and analyzing, she thought. Honeysuckle. You already forgot- a question darts thru her mind- using the pathways thru her gray brain tissue. The perennial that has many other names; Darling, Lonicera, Devil Berry, because of it’s insalubrity, or even The Longer The Better. Remember, she continued thinking, what it’s all about? OOO! The plant thief, she thinks in headlines, while she plans the next foray into radiation free zones. That would create a newspaper article about someone quite different. Alley-grifters, shoplifters, bank-robbers, crooks, tax-evaders, big-data bandits and I am going to be right at the heart of it all – as the PlantThief. It is not comparable, she explains further, it depends on the type of lure. That would be comparing a hardcore porno with a love poem. A bank-robber has nothing to do with a PlantThief, who feeds from a direct wire to the absolute Bioplasm. The energy of money should be another category of slaves. What is the matter! She gets up and listens to the message on her voice mail, she heard it ringing during the unspeakable act. Laura’s voice speaks to her. “Hi Sally. We wanted to spend a day together in the garden. You still owe me a training in your Botany. You also wanted to give me the shopping list of plants for my gardener. Call me back please.” Peep. Laura is her best friend from the Yoga Group. Her voice is very clear, with a boyish under tone and she is the only friend without an accent. A pure English without being stilted. Sally liked that from the moment they first met and she immediately thought of her as a casual noble person.
Sally’s subtle vibrations caught fire immediately, docked on and created instantaneously an attraction. When she told her the 1st time that she has contact to her Thinking Plants, Laura listened to it – leaning back.
Sally told her that plants are very sensitive and provide a special supply of energy, and that bio-plasmatic energy source recharges her feelings. She mentioned the ‘Secret of the Plants’ book and was about to reveal all the things she read about, found out about over many years. Instead of it, she fumbled around in the Astilbes. Laura works as as Geriatric Caregiver, although she had developed very ambitious, athletic performances as a young woman. Such is great theater of life, she came to believe that old people needed a conscientious care and preparation to death and she felt intuitively destined for this type of secure job. Logical. “Since I have own money, I don’t have to suffer from the poor pay for the work”. “Why care for the elderly and not become a Kindergarten Teacher”, Sally wants to know. Laura laconically explained that she once watched mothers pushing their stroller as if they were hustling with a lawn mower – with outstretched arms. She pondered a little over what she had said and added after a short pause: “This apparently signals a very special attitude of mothers. An instrument which is useful in some way”. “I didn’t have that association, but I understand. When they bend the elbows, that’s what I observed, they remind me pushing a shopping cart. That’s also pretty weird, don’t you think?”, Sally asked.
“Why don’t you use your expensive diploma professionally?”, Laura wanted to know. The wonderful experiences during University, the memory of myself at that time, I didn’t want that to be contaminated by any wage line”. “The memory is superimposed with earning money and before you turn around all the valuable energy swallowed and lost”. “The memory’s so precious that you married a hard-working, reliable and good looking man? Is that what you mean?” “No, that is not what I wanted to say. As it is with many freshly in love, how should I describe that? He wasn’t lumbar lazy. You understand? He is quite handsome, as you probably noticed already. We found the subatomic feeling after some time. At that time, my inner voice advised me to marry Sam. Finally, little Henry was already in the tadpole stage and had made himself comfortable in my uterus”. “Funny picture”, Laura quipped, “I’m imagining Henry as a tadpole”. “By the time Sam grew up, Rick became my Loosestrife”. “Loosestrife? What does that mean, for good’s sake? I don’t know what you mean!”
“My moneywort! We live a matrimonial marriage- I’m the gardener, and he is now worth gold to me. I succeeded planting him out of the shadows, where he slumbered in a poor, raw state of mind into a superior spot, where he tirelessly and very quickly diversified his stolons. At first, I didn’t have much to do with his subtle higher levels. In reality, he made good money, is very capable and deserves that I take care of him. Later, when Henry went to College, I had to deal with Sam’s material spirituality. These are the control dramas, Laura thought. Its creeping roots and its leaves dying off have greatly improved the rough ground of the material world – money was not the problem. What I don’t want is battling the consciousness- frequency of a Materialist”. “Why have you never desired to replace your Loosestrife by a more noble plant “, Laura asks with a smug smile to the lips.”Marital affairs bear a large pattern,” Sally said directing the conversation in another direction. “Do you know how my half-bushes withstand a frost?” “There is a means for?” Stepping down to the beautifully landscaped flowerbed Laura asks casually: “Isn’t this a Gretel in the Bush?”. “I’m impressed that you’re familiar with it, replied Sally surprised and bent over the plant. She is also called Virgin Green and feels very comfortable in company with other flowers, while she plucks a slightly brown leave from the plant. Contradicting her name she carries tons of seeds and thrives winter robust, pretty stubbornly in any soil the next years, somewhere and sometime. I sowed them once, and it seems like everything went right, because the good Virgin Gretel does her service for many years in my garden. I just had to remember what she looks like, when she was still small and inconspicuous, to not confuse her with the young, rising, yellow beets or weeds”. “Learning never stops”, says Laura and addresses Sally’s attention to the Pussy Toe field, caresses them with a long outstretched arm, softly touching them with her fingers. “Soft skin”, Sally smiles. “The plant tolerates searing heat and dryness. You are doing the right thing, zooming into the flowers, that’s the only way to see the entire beauty”. “Sure can’t pass by the Bleeding Heart without being impressed”. “Wow, Laura, I didn’t know you’re familiar with the names. This magnificent specimen is one of the highlights in my garden”.
Laura watches Sally as she searches for the right words, listening to her with a smile on her face. “I think it’s so graceful, how these loose horizontal leaves and the flowers float in an arc over other smaller spring flowers. You see how she lofty hovers over the Primroses and Forget-me-Nots, Lily of the Valley and Pansies”? “Floating, sounds good!” Laura laughs.
“I had a lovely dream I wanted to tell you about, by the way. I just remembered it. So, I walked in a beautiful garden with lush, velvety carpet of grass and a stunning sweet smell from a sea of flowers cajoled my nose. This is not insane”, Laura said, still enchanted by the memory. “And that wasn’t all. Bright yellow, deep dark purple, ruby red – a blaze of colors in HD- movie quality. “Please, don’t ask me for the name”, Laura anticipates the deep breath Sally was about to take, making it look like she wanted to ask a question. “There were fantastic shaped trees with skew curved tribes, apparently looking for a way to the light, with peculiar curvatures. Or, they were beaten by the storm wind so their lopsided. I remember the black bark covered with silver braiding and foliage splendor lisped softly in the wind. Unimaginably, the dream was as alive”, Laura finished her enthusiastic dream sequence description. Speechless astonishment tinted the moment in a great silence. Then came a quiet ‘wow’ from Sally’s mouth. Otherwise nothing only “wow”. Both were sitting a while- any linear time track seemed completely banned- on the wooden bench beside the small garden pond, listening to the birds, crickets and occasionally the croaking of the frogs, and thinking. “You haven’t accidentally eaten a Space Cookie?” she asks, looking at the Water Lilies.” Laura”? “No, I didn’t. What surprises me, is that I perceived the smells and colors in the dream as real. Another surprise is that my dream seems to blow your mind. You’re, I’m not negative, please don’t you misunderstand, an esoteric mind, you and your communication with plants and so”. A soft and hesitant “yes” murmurs out of the dark. “I can hardly believe that you had this fantastic dream-marvel, you know?” It’s just so wonderful, and I am so happy for you”. “Somehow that marvel experience has illuminated the last days. Hard to believe what such a dream can do “, remarked Laura still quite dreamy before they stood up and walked towards the house.”How’s your son?”. “He’s fine. Needless to say, he’s totally engaged with his Job. Troposphere, Stratosphere, Mesosphere and the low-noise measurements – he’s a scientific mind”. Did you know that according to the latest findings in science, human beings are to be considered as a Marine Life Civilization”, nipping on her coffee. “No”? “Astronauts assume that the air, the atmosphere itself is actually a kind of fluid and not, like all think, a mixture of gases”. “Good to know”, Laura says laconically, “then we are more fish than ants or something similar.” Life is a surging, opaque mystery. Let’s leave it there.
Too much thinking harms common sense and anyway fish are stupid. I brought the list, I promised. Empirically tested dealing with Dementia. You can read it; maybe it helps you in dealing with your Mama.” “Thank you! If you’re not careful, she giggles her farewell with a smile in her voice, lovely Laura, you’ll become my Beautiful Face”.”Oh, Sally, I almost forgot to say. I will be at the East Cost for a week. I need a vacation, to let go for a few days. So, don’t let the Beautiful Face in the meanwhile fade”.
A transparent band like an invisible force manipulated the fabric of harmony. Sally went back to the kitchen, brew a cup of Darjeeling and thought about whether she should do her homework and read tips by Laura dealing with Dementia, or perhaps a brief stopover in the garden? Rejecting this idea, she immediately went upstairs to her writing and sewing room. There were no plants as well as in her bedroom. As a substitute, transparent light linen cloths, abstract paintings and scarcely decorated accessories made it a sunny room. Her desk was simple. Two legs with a thick marble table top. Her sewing machine, with plenty of different modes – Sam had patiently explained it to her- lingered unused seemingly offended, in the corner. She fluently and without reading passages twice scanned the pages. Concentrated info she thought. This is so wonderful. Laura never makes a big deal out of taking care of me. Others would probably saver every sentence and turn the whole thing into an ego posse. UPS, I didn’t want to give room to such thoughts, she reminded herself. Unbleached pages filled with first hand experience- my Beautiful Face, I thank you.
How about listening to music, she thought. Polytonality- who was the master genus of it. Bartók. His Bagatelles, no. Elegies! Very good. The small stereo system waiting for the transcendent reconciliation. In the foreground the stapling of the sewing machine. The hemp-silk curtain still needs a beautiful border. Start the fun-button, switch on the sewing light, thread into upper and lower needle thread, regulate the tension, the machine starts ra-tat-tat and as by magic the curtain gets a proper rolled hem. This is pure melody. Poly modality overlaid by a mechanical ostinato. Sally feels intoxicated by this Chamber Orchestra. Listening, she got lost in sound, the colors of the material, the light that floods through the room and the movement of the needle, which precisely closes the end of the fringe. Without blinking her eyes, staring straight ahead on an up and down buzzing needle. She indulges heart and soul in musical esoteric. During all of this her subconscious is running her mind into overdrive. The OOO of things, a telephone in the hereafter. The act of doing is pure metaphysics. A successful prank the curtain will finally be completed. Without realizing it, her mother enters the room and without saying a word, she watches her daughter concentrated working on the machine. “Sally, calling with her old falsetto. “SALLY”, a little sigh, a shrug, “do you think it’s going to rain?” “What a nice dress you’re wearing, mother”, she glimpses in her directing. “Wait, I’ll turn off the stereo. I finally finished with the curtain. What did you say, I didn’t hear you?”.”I am curious about, whether it’s going to rain? ” “Looks like it, it’s cooler too”. “Should I turn the heating on? You sure dressed up. Is there a reason?” “Today is the wedding day with your dad, I dreamt of him and felt his love. He stood there, very proud with his mischievous smile. He looked like a Penguin and little birds flew around him. Then there was a faint noise, which continued to increase and then I heard beautiful music”. “He is watching over you, his spirit floats around you. So, that’s why you dressed up all by yourself in this nice, flowery summer dress? And look at these earrings! Let me see.” Sally fumbles on her mother’s earlobes. ” Are these my earrings with the emeralds, which Sam gave me for Christmas some years ago? You didn’t pilfer them out of my jewelry box?” “I don’t know where I got them from, those are mine anyway, or do you think I’m a jewelry thief!. “So, that’s what you think about your mother, I’ll keep that in mind. That’s outrageous as well.” “We’ll leave it at that mother, all good. OK? Come along I’ll make dinner, you can of course keep the earrings they look good on you”. With her mother on the arm, she goes into the kitchen and withdraws out of further conversation. Sedulously she starts laying the table and preparing dinner. Maggy eats mostly bread with sausage or cheese, and a cup of Chamomile tea with honey.
After dinner, she helps her mother dressing for bed. As she walks through the living room into the entrance hall, where the stairs go up to the first floor, she sees a plastic bag, which was hidden under the stairs. Not thinking further she accompanied her mother in the bedroom and as every evening the two women speak a short evening prayer together. On the way back, she grabs the plastic bag and finds a little surprise- a houseplant, which used to stand in the living room. That can’t be true! At first, an annoying feeling grew inside but that didn’t last long. Then, she felt totally overwhelmed finding a coherence and then she was attacked by a not to be controlled laughing- her entire body began to tremble. Sally found another six bags that evening with house and garden plants in them. Sam said laconically: “Shall I dispose the bags?” “No”, Sally stuttered, searching for words, “I’m going to plant them in a larger pot and better soil. Leave it, I’ll take care of it”.
What had happened? Sally slowly recalled everything in her mind’s eye. Her mother’s bedroom is located on the west side, with large windows to the garden – which means; She could have seen me during my activities. But why would she root out the plants? There are certainly demented old people that do such unexplainable things. You don’t get far with rational thinking. But obviously she felt very close to father, because she had dreamt of him and wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary. With my earrings, which mother immediately denied. Sally was just going to lay in bed as Sam stood in pajamas and a toothbrush in hands at the doorway. “What’s wrong, he asked, why are you sleeping in the guest room?” A millisecond fast wink of an eye, a flash of inspiration. Sally zooms in on the semicircular, black circles under Sam’s finger nails. Pause, answer: “No, my dear, that has nothing to do with you, I need more room for sleep. You know me”, Sam gave her a little kiss on her cremed cheek and went back into the bathroom. It was Sam, he had dug out the plants and left the bags at various places in the house. He knows the secret and sets out a sign to stop it. An invasion in her view of freedom, to do that, which brings amiability into life which guides best to her own essence.
Stiff and hurt Sally’s thoughts turn in an endless loop, which gives her a strange dizzy feeling in the head, almost weightless, she couldn’t think straight. Microscopic, contrapuntal operations throughout her whole brain. A mysterious, alien world crystallizes in Sally’s sleep phase, a threshold in a strange dreamlike landscape opens. Half familiar figures emerge from the mist in her subconscious mind. She immerses herself into the shadow world and is overlaid by non-human realms. Sally’s slow-wave-sleep-phase dream landscape turns into an experiential surface; Whispers, murmurs, submerging her perception. Abstract light patterns, circles, negative exposures appear before her closed eyes. Sally flies like an astronaut through the parallel world of sleep, dashes in breathtaking ups and downs. Virtually crumbling, barely perceptible atmospheres and adventurous flow through her on her journey in an alternative universe. Waking up in the morning she found herself back to the starting point; the cycle of everyday life can begin anew.