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All in all, the whole year hadn't been such a good experience.
First of, he should have never moved to a city he knew nothing about. New job or not.
Most importantly, he should have never rented a room in such a hurry. Bad lighting, scarce furnishing and four flights of stairs were not his idea of comfort.
It was alright, he thought, things would be better soon. New workplace, new life, his girlfriend supporting him…
By winter, things had gone from good to utter failure. After a couple of weeks behind his desk, the company employing him had filed for bankruptcy. The next job he took was lifeless and underpaid; If he could cover his expenses, his hope in acquiring new furniture vanished.
As the months passed, fatigue took its toll. Apathy slowly replaced his usual good mood and the change in his humor hadn't pleased his girlfriend at all. Fights became more and more frequent. Inevitably, they broke up.
His room was still a mix of Spartan comfort and forsaken Zen retreat when summer came back. One window, one curtain, one mattress, one table, one chair.
A new life indeed.
Something was needed to dissipate the gloom before his bad year turned into a bad decade.
A woman was out of the question. Too early.
A pet, would die of boredom after a couple of hours.
Maybe plants? Affordable, alive, fresh… Everything he wasn't. Perfect for motivation.
On his way back from the florist, he wondered why he was currently bringing a cactus back home.
True, you didn't have to water them too often. Also true, the one he had chosen was particularly cute; no bigger than his fist, round and fuzzy, freckled with a score of pretty purple flowers. Even truer, he couldn't afford anything else.
It was done, anyway; a little green patch now sat in his grey room.
Sometimes, even small details can be life altering.
The little cactus brought just enough life to Alfred's studio to let him start breathing again..
In the morning, he would greet the plant with a smile as soon as his eyes opened. Back from work, he would enquire about its mood. In a matter of days, he gave it a name.
"All those spines and flowers standing on your back look like they're cheering. You look victorious, my dear. Victoria! That will suit you well."
His window, opening above the building's inner courtyard, turned into a place of interest. He would gently put Victoria on the ledge, stroke its sharp fur with the back of his thumbnail and leave her in the sun until dusk. When in a talkative mood, he would share the ledge beside her to rest his elbows and tell her stories about his childhood, sometimes pretending to answer her questions.
Victoria soon came to assume many roles. As a pet, a friend, a confident. Or on some occasions, as a much needed therapist.
One day he was at the window, going on about his pet peeves and favorite topics, Alfred felt an unusual tension building up between them, for no apparent reason. Was he nervous? Or was Victoria upset?
"You look quiet today, Vic. It's almost like you're frowning. What's wrong with you? Oh come on! Don't look at me like that, I'm not being annoying or anything."
The feeling didn't recede.
He tried a more playful approach. "Hey Vic, watchu want? Wanna fight? You sure you can win this one? Watchu gonna do anyway? Force me to hug you?"
He laughed at his own joke and stared at the sky. It would be dark soon. Time to close the window.
He was starting to pull the curtain when he gasped at a sudden, stinging pain in the palm of his right hand.
Victoria.
A whole handful of her needle sharp spines had gone straight through the curtain, straight into his flesh.
"OUCH VIC! That's not funny! Hiding behind the curtain like that!"
He untangled the cactus, stuck to the fabric like a strip of velcro, and moved her to his table, holding her carefully by the pot. This unruly behavior wouldn't go unpunished. There would be no ledge for her tomorrow. After all if she wanted to voice her concern about something she was free to do it without resorting to violence.
"It's really not like you, you know. Think about what you've done, while I tweeze-out your thorns!"
He took a moment to observe her. Something was definitely off. Maybe it was her color, slightly darker than usual. Maybe the little purple flowers had started to wilt. Soon enough, he came to a gruesome realization.
"You have a problem don't you?
You… you're not Victoria, are you? She would never do something that armful. I can see it now. You're some sort of alter ego aren't you? Oh dear… So what shall I call you, dark side of my cactus?"
The plant seemed to assume an air of passive aggressive smugness.
"Oh alright then, you want to play it like a villain, I'll give you a villain name! Igor! Happy now?"
It was probably a trick of the decreasing daylight, but the plant's expression seemed to have shifted from smug to satisfied.
Alfred, not really enjoying his friend's new personality, left the conversation to be continued the next morning.
Click For Part Two
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Two Minds And A Cactus (part 1) by Danny Hefer is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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