Zantedeschia (Henry)

[Patricia Reed]

Patricia was particularly tired today. She’d been unable to sleep the night before. So the most logical solution was to turn on the TV she so rarely watched in an attempt to find an old movie, which she’d been successful at finding. Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The woman had a soft spot in her heart for Audrey Hepburn. The actress had been Patricia first inkling that perhaps she wasn’t like most other girls her own age.

Of course, once she tuned into the movie, it became much like the first time she’d seen it. Her eyes were glued to the screen, unable to tear them away from the hauntingly beautiful woman. She’d become so entranced by Miss Hepburn that she ended up staying awake into the wee hours of the morning watching the entire movie, leaving her with bags under her eyes that were larger than normal.

Not that it mattered much. When you grow older, she was coming to realize, you always looked as if you were tired and worn. Skin that was beginning to loosen and permanent small bags under the eyes only insured that. But looks had never been of much importance to her. Only her family and the socialites she’d grown up around and with.

The other sign of her being tired was the fact that she’d just covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned for what was probably the tenth time in about an hour. Eventually she’d go and get herself a third cup of coffee, but for now she wanted to finish the few seeds she had left.

Calla lilies. They were some of her favorite flowers. There was something about them, perhaps their lines, that made them seem just so elegant. Her late night movie had inspired today’s flower. If nothing else, Audrey Hepburn was incredibly elegant.

Using her hands, she dug up small holes in which to place the seeds. Tools weren’t really her thing. The feeling of dirt against her hands was almost… Well for Addie is was almost spiritual. She felt connected with nature.

After the few remaining seeds were planted and covered, she stood up and used her jean covered thighs to brush her hands of the dirt on them. And even though not all the dirt was cleaned off her fingers, she still used them to push back a few strands of hair that had managed not to be included in the sloppy bun.

[Henry Ballo]

Henry liked walking the grounds. Actually, people would’ve been surprised to find out how much he enjoyed this particular ritual of his—walking Hammel grounds in just a t-shirt and jeans and occasionally bending to inspect the flowers. He didn’t move quickly. There was no need to. Here in the grounds, one could afford to take one’s time. And since he was usually the only one out here, especially at certain times of the day, he could afford to let his guard down. He didn’t have to pretend to be someone out here. He didn’t have to act a certain way and he didn’t have to smile, he didn’t have to scowl, he didn’t have to do anything. He could just kind of…be.

Mind, he’d had to limit his daily walks to biweekly walks when he’d gotten his first job. And then to weekly when he began, well, seeing Estelle. And then he’d stopped altogether when he’d gotten the second job. Now, with detention looming for the next three months, he’d had to cut back on his hours, and he was beginning to get restless. Working for Riley had given him an opportunity to get out and work with plants, which was something that he enjoyed, having lived in a city for the majority of his life. He missed that kind of work. So he’d resumed his walks, and found himself grateful for that.

That didn’t mean he was grateful for the detentions, though. That particular activity he wished he could avoid entirely.

Still, it was a curiously relaxed Henry who heard the rustling that indicated someone else was around. He paused in midstep, glanced around to see where the noise was coming from, then pursed his lips and pushed himself off the ground just an inch or so, to not make any noise as he approached the source of the sound. A woman was there, dressed as plainly as he was, seeming to be working on the grounds. He lowered himself to the ground and leaned over, then gave into his curiosity and spoke.

“Excuse me. What are you planting?”

His voice was polite, although his accent was perhaps thicker than it would’ve been on another day or among other students. His features were set in a mask of polite interest too, although it wasn’t overtly friendly. He wasn’t that relaxed. And, if he’d admit it to himself, he doubted he ever would be.

[Patricia Reed]

She was looking at the soil she’d just repacked in its place thinking about what else she needed to do. Obviously, planting more flowers. There were some winter plants that had since wilted and she needed to clear out to make room for new spring ones. And a few bushes that needed trimming. She’d yet to take a good look at the trees to see if possibly and of the branches needed to be taken down. Multiple reasons for why some might need to be.

Then add in a few things that needed attention actually within the school. Sufficed to say, her mind was preoccupied. And heard no movement around her. Not that she would’ve anyway in the manner that the student approached her. Even if the young man had made a sound, she wouldn’t have heard him though.

So when he spoke, Patricia was more than just a little startled. Jumping and gasping was more than enough to convey that fact. Touching her hand to her chest, over her heart, and taking a deep breath, she spoke to him. “Dear lord… You scared me.” The slight smile on her face made it clear that she wasn’t mad.

Looking back down to the ground, she looked where she had just planted the seeds. “Calla Lilies. You see, they originally came for the tropics. Marshlands. So they need a lot of water.” Kneeling back down on to the ground, she gestured to the soil. “But too much water is bad for plants too. But by the pond is really good for them.”

Moving her eyes up, she looked at him. “The soil’s moist, but not murky and muddy. So I’ll still have to come out here every once in a while to water them. But not every day.” She often spoke like that when discussing plant life. As if others weren’t always aware of what certain plants needed. She understood not everybody liked planting. And very few that did enjoyed it as much as her.

“Oh sorry.” Standing up again, she realized she’d been rude in not telling the young man her name. Extending her hand to him, she gave it. “I’m Addie. Are you a gardener yourself?”

[Henry Ballo]

The fact that Patricia had started made him shift back too, looking wary and with his hands raised in a half-defensive position. Just because Hammel didn’t encourage fighting and because this woman appeared to be a school official, didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to be wary. Besides, he hadn’t lashed out—just used some of his self-defense techniques that Charlie had taught him some time before. He learned quickly and there were worst habits to have, or so he thought. Still, he quickly shifted into a more neutral position and offered her an apologetic smile, although it was still very small and faint.

“My apologies,” he said quietly, and shrugged his shoulders. “I did not mean to startle you, I promise.” He turned his head to look around, prepared to slip away, but he looked back at her as she spoke again. Calla lilies. Oh, those were fairly famous, weren’t they? Or at least well known. So he nodded. “They seem like an interesting plant. But what is a…marshland?” He was mildly puzzled by what that meant, but his science classes thus far hadn’t covered the term, and sciences hadn’t been a skill of his in any case.

Still, he understood the techniques with plants. Having worked with Riley, he knew a little bit about how to manage with them, and so was familiar with what she was saying.

As she reached forward with her hand, he hesitated briefly, then leaned forward to grasp it in his own in a firm grip. “Yes and no,” he said. “I work for the landscaper in town. So I have been learning about plants. It is very interesting. Oh, ah.” His lips twitched into a faint smile. “My name is Henry. It is good to meet you. Have you been working here for very long?” 

[Patricia Reed]

If Henry were going to spend any time with Addie, he’d quickly learn that attacking or fighting or any such thing wasn’t something she was capable of. It wasn’t that she doubted she could hold her own. All of the physical labor she did left her fit. But those things, such as physical aggression towards other people, she viewed as very unpleasant. And would never take part in.

With a small smile in return, she shook her head. “Oh no, please forgive me. My hearing, it’s not quite what it used to be.” She said jokingly, taking on the accident of her becoming startled as her own fault. It was no matter though. It wasn’t as if it were a big deal.

“Marshland… It’s kind of like a swamp. There’s a bit of land, mostly covered by water. Not a lot though. And the land is slimy.” She found herself using her hands and facial expressions to try to describe what exactly marshlands were, which she found to be more difficult than she would have thought. “But they are very interesting plants. Very elegant. They used to be more popular for funerals. Now though, they’re used more for weddings.” Though, she felt they were appropriate for both.

Addie nodded. “The landscaper in town…. That would be… Mr. Adams, right?” She didn’t know the man. Not personally at least. But having attended Hammel and living in a small town like Pilot Ridge, she knew somewhat of the man. If she left the need to be more social in her life, perhaps then she’d go out of her way to meet him. As of now though, she didn’t. Addie got more than her fair share of social interaction at the school.

“I’ve been working here for ten years.” She said, nodding again. “But I’ve always worked with plants and landscaping and such.” The older woman brushed off her hands and looked at the boy beside her. “How long have you been working for Riley? You must like working with plants. At least a bit, no?”

[Henry Ballo]

Henry’s lips quirked into a faint smile—quite an accomplishment, considering how hard it normally was to get Henry to smile at all. It wasn’t that it was such a great joke, per se, but she was willing to laugh at herself and hadn’t gotten upset with him, which won her a couple of grudging points in his eyes. So he chuckle and shrugged. “Perhaps if I see you again, I shall try to announce myself,” he offered. “And be loud.” A light joke in response? Perhaps Henry was actually becoming a human being.

Marshland. Yes. They did not have it in Botswana, but he could recognize it from his biology and geography classes. Between her expressions and her words, he thought he could picture it. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Like white for weddings and white for mourning…culture clash or culture merge?” He blinked himself out of it, then shrugged and nodded to her question. “Yes,” he said. “That is his name. He is a very nice man. Very tall.” And Henry knew what he was talking about. But it was also nice to have someone he could almost look in the eye. Not that he was that tall, or that much taller than others, but still…

He knelt next to her to put her at a more even level with him and so it was less intimidating, and also so he could examine the plants a little closer. “Ten years?” he seemed startled by this information. “Perhaps this is why the grounds are in good condition, then.” He offered her another thin smile again, then glanced down at the plants, examining the leaves with a surprising gentleness considering the size of his hand.

“I have been working for around three months with him,” he said aloud. “And yes. I do like plants. I lived in the city—I hadn’t realized how beautiful they could be.” He cleared his throat and sat back on his heels. “That sounds silly. I am sorry. Perhaps I should leave you be.”

[Patricia Reed]

Smiling at the boy, Addie chuckled. “Yes, that would be very thoughtful. I am an old woman after all. You might cause me to have a heart attack.” To assure she was simply teasing, because she was in good health, Addie winked at the boy. “After all, you’ll surely see me around more. I’m nearly always here. Usually by sunrise.” And after nightfall. But she didn’t feel the need to let on to the student that she didn’t have much else going on her life. Not that she minded it. Actually, she quite enjoyed it.

“Exactly. Generally, here white is for weddings and black is for funerals. Though, there is one culture, I can’t remember which, but they use white for their funerals. It’s supposed to represent the peace that death brings with it.” Differences in culture had always fascinated her. What one culture viewed as unusual being completely normal to another. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him. But I’ve only heard wonderful things about him.” A small chuckle came from the older woman when Henry said the unfamiliar man was tall. “Must be nice not to have to look down at at least one person.” She imagined that must be very straining on his neck.

A large smile spread on her face. It never failed to make Addie so happy as to know that others liked her work. “Well that is very kind of you.” She wouldn’t deny the compliment. Years of working with landscaping, and having her advantage, she knew her work was good. But it was wonderful to hear all the same. “Hammel is a wonderful place. I like to do the best that I can with it.” She watched, somewhat nervously, as he touched the flowers. But he was a gardener of sorts. So when Addie realized Henry was just as gentle as she would be, even given their difference in sizes, she relaxed.

“Oh no. No, that doesn’t sound silly whatsoever.” Shaking her head, Addie tried to encourage Henry in how he felt about different plants. “They’re supposed to be beautiful. It’s a little more difficult in the city though. Everything there is cement.” It was as if it were yesterday that she still lived in Manhattan. “I was lucky living in the city. I lived right by Central Park. Though, then it wasn’t much of a park. It wasn’t taken care of the way it is now.” She copied Henry and leaned back on her heels. “Where do you live? Before Hammel I mean.”

[Henry Ballo]

Henry’s lips twitched up into another faint smile at this, and he shook his head. “You are not that old. But yes, I hope I will see you around more. You seem to have a very peaceful way of spending your time.” And she was up by sunrise? He’d used to do that, but it seemed he’d adapted to the teenage life better than most and seemed to wind up sleeping in most mornings. “That is very impressive,” he added.

“China, perhaps?” Henry was frowning. “I cannot recall.” The Tswana’s own funeral rites were extremely complicated, but the colors had become somewhat Westernized to his memory. But then again, he’d never been able to connect with his roots very well. His mother had not followed their traditions at all, and Henry had been pulled away too early to complete any of the rituals for adolescence. That still bothered him from time to time. It made him feel…disconnected. He wasn’t America, but he wasn’t Setswanan either. And that was a little difficult to deal with at times. It made his smile slip off his face a little, but he eventually recovered as she said her next statement. He blinked, then offered a slight smile. “It is. But it mostly is not that bad. Things could be much worse.”

He nodded as she accepted the compliment, and then glanced over at her. “You lived by Central Park? Before I moved here, I was in New York as well. But I suppose everyone comes to New York eventually.” He cleared his throat and leaned back a little. “But before that, I was in Botswana. That is where I grew up.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Central park did not always look the way it does now? Truly? Interesting.” He offered her a smile and cleared his throat. “Did you grow up there? And what is it that you will be doing next?” he waved his hand to the ground.

[Patricia Reed]

“You’re too kind Henry.” She said with a chuckle in her voice. “But my bones beg to differ.” But that was really her own fault. Spending so much time kneeling and hunched over plants, even a majority of her free time doing that, took its toll. “Not very. When you’re older, you don’t need as much sleep. You’ll see when you’re old. Which is a shame. I used to love sleeping until noon when I was young.” As she said she spoke longingly, as if she wished she could do that again, but laughed the idea away.

Addie shrugged her should. “It could be China. I have no idea though. Hm, I’ll have to research it when I’m at home tonight. That way I can let you know the next time I see ya’ around the school.” She hadn’t noticed that his smile faltered. If she had though, she wouldn’t have asked since they’d just met. There were rules for proper social interaction. And asking a relative stranger a question such as what or why something had upset them crossed that line. “It’s true. Things could be much worse.” For a moment, she tried to think of something, then smiled, looking up at him. “The rest of the human population could be dwarfs. Forever you’d be staring down, probably about knee height for you. That would put the most horrible kink in your neck.”

“I did.” She smiled at their connection of having in New York. “Did you like it? Which part did you live in?” Manhattan hadn’t really been the right fit, not for her at least. It was all hustle and bustle and high society. She had always wanted something different. It was until she’d attended Hammel that she knew what. “Botswana? Really?” Addie had done some traveling with her family when she was younger. But they were strictly Europe people. “It must be wholly different. Why’d you come over here? If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t have to answer of course.” She wasn’t sure if it were a sensitive subject and she didn’t wish to pry.

Stretching her arms behind her, Addie let her hands support of her weight on the ground. “Oh no. When I was growing up, the plants had overgrown and died. And it was usually empty. And some of the structures were falling apart. But there was still something… beautiful about the park? It sounds funny I’m sure.” She chuckled at herself. “But then there was a team hired to care for it. And one in charge of designing it. I mean, which plants would go where. And now it’s beautiful. More so.” Smiling wide, she glanced at Henry. "And that ends our history lesson for today."

[Henry Ballo]

No one in a very long time had called Henry too kind, and he blinked at the address, falling silent for some time as he brooded over that statement. Then he decided that it didn’t matter—just a figure of speech, so to speak—he shrugged it off, and his lips twitched up into a smile. “It is enjoyable,” he agreed. “Although I like mornings as well. Sunrises were always beautiful.” He’d woken up to watch them with his mother before she had to go to work. Often he’d just stay awake for the rest of the day—there had been enough to do.

She thought they’d see each other again? More surprise. Henry wasn’t used to anyone who met him ever thinking that a second social encounter would go…well. Excepting perhaps Estelle, Haley and Terrance. Most of them had agreed to meet him a second time, but the idea of someone not within his immediate circle of friends feeling the same was…unnerving. Pleasant, but weird. Perhaps he was losing his touch on intimidating. Or perhaps he just liked her. Well, he did. She was kind and earthy and a generally pleasant person. Which was why he found himself laughing at her second statement.

“Were that the case,” he said, “I would have to have myself surgically altered. No other solution would be possible, otherwise.” He smiled at her, then shrugged. “I lived in Manhattan. We had a view of Central Park.” Which had been the only part Henry liked of the city. It was the only part that seemed to possess any nature at all. “My father was, ah, very wealthy. In any case, Botswana was very different. In some respects. But I came here when my mother died. My father was my legal guardian.” But he didn’t want to get into that subject and he didn’t want her to feel as if she had brought up a sensitive topic—even if she had—so he offered a somewhat shy smile. “But that was a very long time ago. I hardly remember it.” A lie. But hopefully one that would make the offered truth have less of a sting.

He laughed—a sound that seemed surprised it was coming out of his mouth. “Is that the only history? Well, I am glad it was redesigned and cared for. A park ought to be properly tended to, especially in New York. There is so little else of natural beauty.” Hesitantly, he sat back as well and shrugged. “Do you…do you have other stories of the city, then?”

[Patricia Reed]

Addie took Henry’s silence in stride. Most might be made uncomfortable in it. And she might have when she was younger, but no more. Though, she did glance at him, curious as to what exactly he was thinking. “Sunrises are special. I think it’d be wonderful to live on the coast, to be able to see it rise every morning. I hear it’s a beautiful sight.”

Smiling, the older woman was pleased that she was able to get a laugh from Henry. He didn’t seem the kind of person to take easily to strangers. Which only pleased her all the more she so far she seemed an exception. Kind of at least. “I would imagine you’d have to. All the doors and halls and the likes would be built for the exceptionally small. Your neck wouldn’t be the only part of you with a kink. Surgery would quite possibly be the only way to settle that. Unless you’re the kind of person to sue somebody every time you hit your head on a ceiling or doorframe. If nothing else, you’d become a very rich man.”

“Central Park is the most beautiful part of Manhattan. But it’s not very hard to do that though because everything else is cement and stone.” Addie listened intently as Henry spoke a bit of his past, her face falling slightly when he mentioned his mother had passed. “I’m sorry she passed Henry.” Addie didn’t ask any questions of his father or mother. Not because she wasn’t interested, but simply because that would allow him to ask questions of hers and it wasn’t something she discussed freely with those she only just met. “Well, I’m sure your father liked being able to spend that time with you.”

“Oh no. Not the only. It is Central Park after all. But I admit to that being my only knowledge. But I imagine its history is vast. Though I don’t know when it was first built.” She wondered idly when it had been built and if it had gone through many other phases before she was brought back to the present by Henry’s question. With a laugh, Addie shrugged. “Depends on what you mean. I have plenty of my own stories that took place in the city. But not many about the city itself.” A few of those stories she wouldn’t mind sharing with him if he asked.

[Henry Ballo]

“I think it would be.” Henry was startled into another smile by that. “Over the water it would be very beautiful indeed. Although it was nice in the city as well. When it wasn’t incredibly foggy or filled with smog, he liked to see how the beams of light flickered over the buildings, especially when some of the buildings were made of glass. Then it reflected off of the buildings and it was quite a sight to behold, showing that it wasn’t just nature that could be beautiful.

Henry laughed again at the picture she presented: it was an entertaining one to say the least, and one he’d definitely never considered before. “Is that what will be the case?” he inquired. “I will live forever bent over, or go through several painful surgeries in order to try and be completely normal. But where would the fun in that be?” That might’ve been a faint glint of humor in his eye, but knowing Henry, that should’ve been completely impossible, right? “Maybe I would become rich by putting on a show of being the tallest man.”

Henry’s gaze shifted away. “It was a very long time ago,” he murmured. “I think she would have liked you. She would have appreciated the way you thought. And she liked plants, even when we were living in the city. And as for my father, well, he provided for me.” And he skimmed over the rest. He still didn’t like to talk about it.

Henry hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure what topics he wanted to attempt to approach yet. Having a civil conversation with a person was a difficult task for him, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because it just happened so rarely. “Perhaps you could share some? Not necessarily…now, perhaps, but another time. When I am not distracting you from work.”

[Patricia Reed]

“Especially when the water’s calm. It would look like the sun is rising out of itself.” And she happened to agree with him in that case, that sunrises were also beautiful in the city. “They are. If you manage to wake that early. When I was younger, that was always difficult for me, waking up before noon.” She chuckled, thinking about how different her life was now compared to then. “But when I did manage to, it was wonderful. The streets are quiet. Well, quiet for New York. Not Pilot Ridge quiet.” Addie preferred Pilot Ridge’s level of quiet.

Addie couldn’t hold back her smile, not that she would ever actually try to do such a thing. “It wouldn’t. Not at all. Especially when you can make money so easily by being a show as you would definitely be. Children would be fascinated by you. And possibly try to climb you.” Quietly chuckling, she shrugged. “Perhaps it’s best then this isn’t a world we live in. I hear children climbing all over you is quiet strenuous. And with all the hunching over you’d be doing, I’m not sure one body could take all that.”

Addie took what Henry said as a great compliment, that he believed his mother would’ve liked her. “Well, her son is a wonderful young man. Which I’m sure was, in short part, influenced by her. So I’m positive I would’ve liked her as well.” She said no more on the matter of his mother. Watching him from the corner of her eye, the way he shifted away and spoke more quietly about her, Addie sensed it was a sensitive subject. As well as his father. She nodded knowingly. “Sometimes that’s all people are able to give.”

Smiling, the older woman nodded. “I’d be happy to share stories with you anytime you’d like Henry. I must warn you though, I wasn’t always so calm and mature.” She chuckled. “For the most part I was a goody two shoes. But even I had a few rebellious streaks.” Of course, she’d neglect telling him any of the more recent troubles she’d had with her family, instead sticking to the few times she’d snuck out or hidden city treasure spots she’d found. Perhaps she’d delve deeper the more they got to know each other. “And don’t worry, distractions are always welcome. But I should be getting back to work.” She said with an apologetic smile.

(Are you good to wrap dear? Now that they’ve met, talked, and know each other a bit?)