AtoZ Challenge - D is for Dandelion

As part of the AtoZ Challenge, I will post an episode of flash fiction every day except Sunday for the month of April. The episodes are glimpses of a larger story. To read from the beginning:  A, B, C. 

Holly bent over the large metal table and carefully plucked the bright yellow petals from one of a thousand flower heads. She was having a hard time believing so many dandelions could grow within a single growing level, much less, one bed. It looked like a huge yellow and green blanket covering the entire space. It made her wonder how many levels were on the ship for so many to be devoted to just growing plants. The petals pinched between her fingers shone absolutely vibrant and it kept her spirits up while she pulled each blossom until it was clean. 

    “I thought the entire plant was usable,” Holly said.

    Sybil sat across from her, performing the same task. She nodded her head.

    “It is, we will use these other parts, too, but today we are making something specifically for enjoyment. The flavor is the key on this one. Any greenery will result in a bitter taste.”

    Holly remembered the bitterness of the alfalfa tea and wondered if there was a scale for measuring such a quality. Surely she had experienced the worst already.

    Additional facts about the plant flowed freely from Sybil, almost like she was talking in her sleep, or reading a poem to a child at bedtime.

    “Taraxacum officinale,” she said. “Very safe, no toxic accumulation or interactions, completely edible, contains several vitamins and minerals, including iron.”

    She stood and carried a basket of dandelion petals to a large pot resting atop a conduction cooker. She tipped it over the edge and returned to continue.

    She said, “We will take a fresh root to Eleanor to apply the resin to her wart. The leaves and a few flowers will be dried for use in tea blends. It works well as a diuretic without reducing the body’s potassium. The roots will be roasted for coffee and we will prepare a tincture for liver health.”

    Holly eyed the large pot and wondered what wonderful concoction they were creating. So far her favorite part of her chosen profession was fresh food. She hardly ever visited the mess now. At first, she avoided it because of the poor conversation. Everyone wanted to criticize her bizarre calling. Eventually she spent enough time with Sybil to discover there was no need to eat dried and processed food from the mess at all. She had complete access to the plants and could eat anything she desired to harvest and prepare.

    Was it selfish? Everyone else ate highly processed meals, the moisture was retrieved and conserved. Cooking with water was a waste. The others had a daily choice of a fresh item such as an apple or lettuce, but Holly had it all. She felt guilty for the ability to watch steam unfolding above the boiling pot. All that moisture being set free seemed sinful. What were they making that was worth the process?

    Almost like she could read Holly’s mind, Sybil said, “It is a surprise for you. By the time it is ready, you will be finished with your first turn with me.”

    Holly let her mouth fall open a little. There were eight notches on the time cycle and she had been an apprentice for only two. What possibly needed to cook for three-fourths of a turn?

    With the last flower plucked clean, Sybil stood over the pot of bubbling liquid and beckoned Holly to come closer. The water was boiling and the pot of petals rested next to it. They each grabbed a handle with gloved hands and tipped it over the petals. The steam tickled her face and licked her hair aside. Nectar-sweet fragrance drifted up at them and she smiled with excitement. 

    Sybil put the pot to the side and threw a large towel over the steeping petals. “We’ll check in on it in three days,” she said.

    Holly felt a small lump of disappointment in her chest. It was going to be a long turn.

AtoZ Challenge - C is for Cayenne

“Holy mothership!” Holly shouted. “That is hot! Why is my tongue burning?”

    “That is the capsaicin,” Sybil said.

    “As in pepper spray? Why did you feed me pepper spray, I said I was not feeling well today. You’ll burn a hole in me.”

    “Nonsense,” Sybil said. “It is just cayenne, Capsicum annuum. The stimulation from the heat is a great way to heal your digestive system, not to mention treat nerve damage and reduce pain if used on the skin. Mind you don’t get it near the eyes, though. That is something the controllers like to use it for, as you pointed out. Perhaps if they ate the stuff instead of threatening to spray offenders, they would look a little more fit. It burns calories, too.”

    Holly laughed. “Seriously?” She looked down at the flecks of red and brown coating her bowl of roasted vegetables. Already her sinuses were loosening and her head provided her a little relief. The effect on her stomach would be unknown for at least an hour. “It does taste nice. Who would have thought something that causes pain could treat it?”

    “That is closer to reality than you think. Human bodies need to be stimulated, just like the mind. You need to use your senses. You need to train your nerves. Not everything can be learned through simulation.”

    “Is that why you never have me do simulations to learn faster?” Holly asked. 

    Most people her age were months into simulation training. Every day was the same for them. Wake up, eat, report to their simulation bay, learn, practice, review, assess, eat, go back to their quarters, and sleep. If she had joined engineering, she would be doing the same thing. All of her friends questioned her decision to apprentice with the healer. Even she had questioned it. Why did she always have to do things differently? For once, she should have just fit in with the others. But she had no idea just how different this path would be. 

    On her first day, she arrived in the former cargo bay and searched for Sybil for half the morning. She panicked and almost decided to run to the controllers and turn herself in for not reporting to the right location for duty. She had failed on her first day. Then Sybil strolled in, hands covered in black smudges, a smudge on her wrinkled cheek to match, and a basketful of plants on her arm.

    “Did I miss my simulation today? Am I in the right place?” Holly asked. She was ready to cry.

    “You won’t find any simulation down here,” Sybil told her. “There is only one effective way for humans to truly learn, and that is through action, failure, and movement...and maybe a little pain.”

    Sitting now with her burning tongue, she realized there was probably more than a little pain involved in learning her new trade. Synapses were really how humans learned, but maybe there were different ways to form those. And maybe some ways were more important than others. For now, Holly felt like she was always guessing and rarely had any answers, though. 

    “Holly you have learned plenty in your time with me. Do not worry about speed. Concentrate on depth. Learn one new thing at a time. Stick with it for a month or two. Taste it, experiment with it, sniff it every hour, rub it between your fingers, and watch it grow for many days from seed to flower. The plants are not in a hurry. Grow like the plant.”

 

AtoZ Challenge - B is for Bilberry

“We are going on a field trip today, and by field trip, I do not mean we are going to the fields,” Sybil said.

“Okay,” Holly said. “Should I bring anything?”

“Bring your shoulder bag, we will stop by the field on the way back.”

Holly rolled her eyes, then pretended to be studying the integrity of the ceiling when Sybil turned to give her a dirty look. How could someone so smart have such a scattered mind? Half the time Holly feared she would forget who she was or try to throw her out when she arrived for the day’s work. She picked up her shoulder bag, slid in her screen, then turned toward the door.

“Leave the screen,” Sybil said. She was blocking the portal, her broad form filling the width of it. “We need no traces today.”

Without hesitation, Holly pulled the screen from the bag and slid it onto the table. Sybil’s one rule to having an apprentice was no argument when she gave a directive.

The two women tunneled further into the ship than Holly ever knew possible. Behind the hydroponic chamber, there was a compost section for gathering nutrients to feed the farm. Behind that, there was another chamber no one knew about, except Sybil. She knew everything.

“You can come in next time, wait here,” she ordered. 

Holly was happy to oblige. She loved studying the internal workings of the ship, even the steaming piles of compost in their sealed vats. She hardly had time to study the gas capture equipment before Sybil returned with a suspiciously shaped brown bag. 

Two men, slightly older than Holly leaned on either side of the portal and waved casually in her direction. One had a crooked smile on his face and the other a scowl.

“Who are they?” Holly asked.

“Brewers,” Sybil said. “They control the compost, and sometimes extract the extra sugar from the vegetation before it goes in. You can meet them next time.”

Holly’s eyes went wide. “They are fermenting alcohol?” she asked. Her voice was louder than it should have been, but the equipment did not seem to notice. Shining was illegal. Holly always wondered why they were called that, but she did not want to ask now. There were more important things to know, like why was Sybil acquiring illegal substances?

Sybil gave her a nod and traced her way back to the fields. Many of the fields on these levels were assigned to Sybil’s care and she was allowed to grow anything she required. Unlike the hydroponic level, these fields consisted of artificially dense silica treated with compost tea and blended with Sybil’s own dirt recipe. The plants appeared jumbled together and completely unorganized, yet she went to the exact plant she wanted without any trouble.

She handed Holly an oversized comb and started using another one to scrape small, dark blue berries into a bag below. Holly started doing the same.

Sybil picked up a stray berry that fell to the ground and put it in her mouth. “Bilberry,” she said. The corners of her mouth tightened as she chewed. “A tart one, too.”

Holly did not have her screen to take notes but listened closely so she could record everything from memory later.

“Vaccinium myrtillus, Ericaceae family. We need to make a tincture for Mr. Lup. I’d make him a syrup, but his diabetes makes that a bad idea. He would drink the bottle up and that would defeat the purpose of the bilberry!”

“The alcohol is for that?” Holly asked. 

Sybil nodded. “We will need to dry these first, they are much too wet to make an effective tincture and it would taste terrible. This will help his circulation and his vision, both worsened by his condition, and it will ease his indigestion and gout. Take some of the leaves for Gretta. We will make a tea for her diarrhea. It should help the inflammation from that stomach virus.”

“Aren’t they acidic?” Holly asked.

“And high in tannins, but if we use the berries and the leaves together it should not upset her any further. The anthocyanidins are potent antioxidants and will help her arthritis too.”

Holly noted it protected veins and arteries and helped the body with clot prevention, so perhaps Sybil would not be having that stroke. 

“Do you take this one?” Holly asked.

“On cake,” she said. She smiled wide. “Makes a great jam.”

AtoZ Challenge - A is for Alfalfa

For the AtoZ Challenge, I will post an episode of flash fiction featuring an herb for the letter of the day for the month of April. The episodes are glimpses of a larger story. A link below the comments can take you to the "newer" post so you can read along in order. You can also use the blog archive to the right to select the next letter. Happy reading!

Hot yellow-brown liquid splattered against the dark metal bulkhead. Holly wiped her mouth with her sleeve. 

“What in the name of all things science did you just give me?” she asked. She pulled her tongue across the backs of her hand. “Was that tea made from the compost on the livestock level?” She spat.

The old crone cackled at her, then abruptly stopped. “You are going to clean that up.” She handed Holly a microfiber cloth covered with layers of questionable stains. “You said you were feeling some fluctuations in your cycle lately. Alfalfa infusion helps balance your estrogen, makes your body regulate itself better. But it does taste like it was stirred with a stall shovel.” Her shoulders bounced up and down as she laughed again. 

Occasionally, Holly wondered why she chose to apprentice with the crazy old lady who occupied the inner chamber of the cargo level. There were plenty of other positions she could have chosen. Her math skills were strong and her spatial awareness even better. She could have joined the engineering program. But no, she spent most of her time wandering between the rows and platforms of the hydroponic levels. Since cooking did not interest her, and neither did robotics, this was the only option she had to work around plants. Sybil had no apprentice and was reaching the end of her life cycle. It seemed like a great opportunity for job security to Holly. Her future family would always be valuable thanks to her unique and useful position as the resident space witch, otherwise known as an herbalist.

“Alfalfa?” Holly asked. She reached for her screen and traced her fingers across the letters, selected a color, and waited for further information. 

Sybil looked over her row of dirt-filled pots to peer at Holly’s screen. “Medicago sativa,” she said. “Leguminosae family.”

“A bean?”

Sybil nodded. “But the infusion is from the leaves. Watch out for an immune reaction in certain cases.”

Holly looked down into the cup of pale tea. Her bottom lip pushed upward and her nostrils flared. “Any other benefits?” She needed more motivation if she was going to take another sip of this tea.

“Vitamins A and C, even K, niacin, riboflavin, folic acid. Minerals, too—calcium, magnesium, iron, potassium.”

“Sounds good for pregnancy,” Holly said.

Sybil agreed. “Start it in the last trimester, or earlier to ease morning sickness, but check for other health concerns first. It will help milk supply, too.”

Holly was not pregnant and did not plan to be soon, but she would try to finish her cup. She attempted to breathe out while she took the next sip, then decided she should probably gulp it and get it over with. Maybe if it was cold it would not taste so strong.

She added a few more notes Sybil shared—lower cholesterol, fight malnutrition, and effects of prolonged illness. It was a useful plant and served as an excellent feed for the alpacas. No wonder it tasted like a livestock stall. She made a note to seek a good companion herb to flavor the infusion. 

Her finger hovered over the save symbol. She gave a quick tap and returned to scrubbing the bitter liquid from the walls and floor. A fair warning could have prevented the mess, Sybil clearly needed additional entertainment for the day. She swore the corner of her mouth turned up while Holly cleaned. She hoped it was not just the result of a stroke. She had a long journey before she could fulfill the role she desired.