What's Good; What's Left - pt iii

Ponder listened as Vesta talked to him about her two visits to the Heavenly Embassy since last they spoke. She spared no detail– in fact, she seemed to focus in on little details that wouldn’t matter much to most. There was a pattern to the focus on these details, he realized quickly: she was avoiding talking about the way those things in particular made her feel. For the sake of her story, he allowed her to do so– they would be able to start unpacking it all when she was finished.

“I had a thought,” she confessed, “but it’s… stupid.”

“I’m here to listen to all thoughts, stupid or otherwise,” Ponder replied. “Although, I’m fairly confident that what you are about to say to me will be anything but.”

Vesta paused, considering the way she wanted to articulate her feelings. “I just… while I was holding the seeds, drinking the tea, I… I couldn’t stop thinking… this is all that’s left. Which is ridiculous because, of course, the Meadow is still there. Just because I can’t go back doesn’t mean… well, you know…”

“Well, then, what do these things mean to you?” Ponder asked.

“Nothing,” Vesta answered quickly.

“If they don’t mean anything, why do these thoughts and feelings seem to stick with you?”

“It’s… it’s only natural. I grew up there; it’s… just- it’s the memory of it all. The way a brain works; you see something familiar, and it triggers a memory. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Let me rephrase my question, then: what significance do these things have? It’s true; they don’t have to mean anything. Still, you can’t deny that, even though they’re the result of meaningless synapses firing, these items and memories hold significance.”

“I… Not… that…” Vesta frowned, trying to think of a better word. “Not… significance… It’s more like a weight. It’s more like a bag I can’t put down, that’s always on my back. It may not be too heavy, but it’s omnipresent. I can’t… get rid of it.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here. It’s true– everyone has their own bags to carry. I’m here to help you unpack it.” Ponder offered her a smile.

“I don’t want to.”

“Then… it seems there isn’t anything I can help you with anymore.” Ponder set his clipboard on his desk.

“What?” Vesta sat up, leaning forward in the chair. “Why not?”

“I can’t work with nothing,” he answered. His tone was still inviting as he continued; there was no frustration or animosity in his voice. “I’ve had a good time getting to know you and getting to help you, Vesta. But if you don’t talk to me about what you’re going through, I don’t know what I can do to help.”

Once again, Vesta sat in one of the greenhouses in the Heavenly Embassy. She wasn’t sure what to do. With no therapist to guide her, she supposed she should just continue on with her life. She wasn’t even certain what she was doing there at all– she was leaving this in the past. No matter how hard she willed it, though, she’d still made the journey to the elevator; then up the elevator and into the solid clouds; then into the Garden of Virtues, where the virtues she had been raised to live by stood immortalized. In that moment, they were as overbearing as they had ever been; and that weight she carried was heavier than ever.

Just as she was about to stand and scream, someone came into the greenhouse. It was Primrose, once again equipped with gardening tools.

“Oh, good evening,” he greeted. He was surprised to see anyone in the greenhouse this late– particularly someone he knew didn’t even live in the Embassy.

“Hello,” Vesta replied.

“Don’t mind me– I’m just here to water the plants before we lock up for the night.”

“Let me help,” she said, before she really knew what she was saying. It was so instinctual– and she hated it; but she still did not want to unpack it.

“Oh, alright,” Primrose agreed. He remembered what she said about the delivery, and did not push back. It was for the best, because she definitely would have backed out if given the opportunity. "You did help me plant these in the first place."

"These ones?" Vesta responded, pointing down at the sprouts.

"Yes, just two weeks ago-- don't you remember?"

"I do, I do."

Primrose offered her the watering can, which was quite heavy when full, and showed her where he was going to water.

“You have to be careful,” Primrose said, “because ambrosia can be easy to overwater. You have to make sure the whole bed gets an even, thin coat.”

Vesta nodded. Her hands shook as she worked– was it from being kicked out of therapy? From the weight of the can? Was it because those words that she did not understand were screaming in her mind?

THIS IS ALL THAT’S LEFT.

The harder she tried not to think about it, the harder she thought about it, anyways. 

THIS IS ALL THAT’S LEFT.

Her incoming breakdown was intercepted by Primrose grabbing the spout and lifting it up, preventing her from overwatering the bed.

“Be careful!” he snapped. He was patient, but he was not willing to mess around when it came to the preservation of cherubun culture.

“Sorry,” she said. Her voice was steadier than she expected.

“You have to watch and make sure you are spreading the water evenly,” Primrose said. “Ambrosia is delicate; this is all that we have leftover from the Meadow. We can’t get anymore if we ruin it.”

Vesta’s voice caught in her throat for a moment. Then she was able to manage, “I’m sorry.”

“Just pay attention,” Primrose said. “Is the watering can too heavy for you?”

“It’s fine,” Vesta replied.

Still, Primrose supported the bottom. Some of the weight was lifted.

They worked together to water the garden-- the tea leaves were less particular, Primrose said, than ambrosia tended to be. Even though the watering can came to a point Vesta could hold it by herself easily, Primrose still took on a supportive role to guide the angle until it was empty. He then explained that the other plants needed to be watered less frequently, so not to worry about them, and Vesta agreed.

When it was time for Primrose to lock up the Garden of Virtues, Vesta found herself wanting to stay. Despite this, she knew she'd have to go home at some point, so she made her way back to the elevator and descended into the city.