"You wanted a bit of green, so I ordered a plant from Earth. You like
it? I hope you do."
"Oh, _Jim_!" She embraced him and the pot simultaneously. "More than
_anything_!"
"It won't stay green," Magnolia observed. "Either it'll turn blue or
it'll die. Puny-looking specimen, isn't it?"
"Well," said James, "it's only a youngster. I guess this Christmas is
too early, but next Christmas there ought to be berries. It's a holly
plant, Phyl."
"Holly," she repeated, her voice shaking a little. "_Holly._" She and
Dr. Cutler exchanged glances.
"I told you, Miz Phyllis, ma'am--he may know the first thing about
botany, but he doesn't know anything after that."
"Jim," Phyllis said, linking her free arm through his, "I misjudged you.
Dr. Cutler is right. You don't know so very much about botany, after
all."
* * * * *
He looked at her blankly. Her voice was trembling, and not with tears
this time. "I love this little plant; it's just what I wanted ... but
there aren't ever going to be any berries, because, to have berries, you
have to have two plants. And the right two. Holly's di--dio--it's just
like us."
"Oh," James said, feeling thoroughly inadequate. "I'm sorry."
"But you mustn't be sorry. I'm going to plant it here on Elysium, and I
hope it will stay green in spite of what she says, and it'll have
blossoms anyway ... and it was very, very sweet of you, dear."
She kissed his cheek.
"Is this one a boy or a girl?" Magnolia asked.
"You-all can't tell till it blooms, Miss Magnolia, ma'am," Dr. Cutler
informed her.
"Maybe I can. Hand it up here, please."
Phyllis paused for an irresolute moment, then, smiling nervously at her
guests, obliged.
"It's a boy," Magnolia announced, after a minute. "A boy." She gave back
the pot reluctantly. "Phyllis," she said, "you and I have never been
friends and I admit that it's been my fault just as much as yours."
"As much as mine?" Phyllis echoed. "I like that--" and was going to go
on when she obviously recollected that they had company, and stopped.
"So I know it's presumptuous of me to ask you a favor."
"Yes, Magnolia?" Phyllis said, her fine cornsilk eyebrows arched a
trifle. "What is this favor?"
"When you plant the little fellow--you said you were going to,
anyhow--would you plant him near me?"
Phyllis looked down at the plant she held cradled in her arms and then
up at the tree. "Of course, Magnolia," she said, frowning slightly. "I
didn't realize...." Her voice began to tremble. "I _have_ been pretty
rotten, haven't I?" She looked toward James, but he turned his glance
away.
"Just because you were a plant," Phyllis continued, "didn't mean I had
to be a b-b-beast. It must have been awful for you, seeing me like this,
practically crowing over you, and knowing that you yourself would never
have the chance to be a m-m-m-mother."
"'Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,'" Magnolia said sadly,
"'and waste its sweetness on the desert air.'"
* * * * *
Phyllis was crying unashamedly now. "I'll plant him right next to
you--Maggie. I want you to have him. He can be your baby."
"Thank you, Phyl," Maggie said softly. "That's very ... blue of you."
"Although I think that's a jim-dandy idea," the biologist said, "and I
sure wouldn't want to do anything to discourage it, being real
interested in the results of an experiment like that my own self, I
don't think you ought to feel so mean about it, Miz Phyllis. If all she
wanted--begging your pardon, Miss Magnolia, ma'am--was a baby, why
didn't she take an interest in the holly until she found out it was a
male? Why wouldn't a little old girl holly have done as well?"
"Why--why, you scheming vegetable!" Phyllis exploded at Magnolia,
clutching the holly plant to her protective bosom. "He's much too young
for you, and I'm going to plant him far away, where he can't possibly
fall into your clutches."
"Now, Miss Phyllis, we-all mustn't look at things out of their proper
perspective."
"Then why did you take your hat off when you were introduced to Miss
Magnolia, Cutler?" Dr. Lakin asked interestedly.
"Sir, where I come from, we respect femininity, whether it be animal,
vegetable or mineral. Nonetheless, we-all got to remember, though Miss
Magnolia is unquestionably a lady, she is not a woman."
Phyllis began to laugh hysterically. "You're right!" she gasped. "I had
almost forgotten _she_ was only a tree. And that _it_ is only a little
Christmas holly plant that's probably going to die, anyway--they almost
always do."
"That's cruel, Phyllis," James said, "and you know it is."
"Do you really think I'm cruel? Are you going to tell the Society for
the Prevention of Cruelty to Vegetables on me? But why am I cruel? I'm
giving her the holly. That's what she wants, isn't it? Do you hear that,
Miss Magnolia, ma'am? _He_'s all yours. We'll plant _him_ next to
you--right away. And I hope _he_ doesn't die. I hope _he_ grows up to
make you a good husband."
* * * * *
"She's really quite remarkable," Dr. Lakin said to James later that same
evening, after the planting ceremonies were over and the rest of the
party had gone into the cottage for fresh coffee and more sandwiches and
cookies and penuche. "Quite remarkable. You're a lucky man, Haut."
"Thank you, sir," James replied abstractedly. "I'm sure Phyllis will be
pleased to--"
"_Phyllis!_ Oh, Mrs. Haut is a very remarkable woman, of course. A
handsome, strong girl; she'll make a splendid mother, I'm sure. But I
was referring to Miss Magnolia. She's a credit to you, my boy. If for no
other reason, your name will go down in the history of our colony as
that of the guide and mentor of Miss Magnolia. That's quite a tree you
have there."
James looked at the dark form of the tree--for the lights had been
turned out--silhouetted against the three pale moons and the violet
night. "Yes, she is," he said.
"You're fortunate to be her neighbor ... and her friend."
"Yes, I am."
"Well, I expect I'd better join the rest. Are you coming on in, Jim?"
"In a little while, sir. I thought I'd--I wanted to have a word with
Magnolia. I won't be long."
"Of course, of course. I'm delighted to see that there is such an
excellent relationship between you.... Good night, Miss Magnolia!" he
called.
"Good night, Dr. Lakin," the tree replied, politely enough, but it was
obvious that she was preoccupied with her new charge, who stood as close
to her as it was possible to plant him and yet allow room for him to
grow.
* * * * *
The door closed. James walked across the lawn until he was quite near
Magnolia. "Maggie," he whispered, reaching out to touch her
trunk--smooth it was, and hard, but he could feel the vibrant life
pulsing inside it. Certainly she was not a plant, not _just_ a plant,
even though she was a tree. She was a native of Elysium, neither animal
nor vegetable, unique unto the planet, unique unto herself. "Maggie."
"Yes, Jim. Don't you think his silhouette is so graceful there in the
moonlight? He isn't really puny--just frail."
"Maggie, you're not serious about this holly?"
"What do you mean?" And still he didn't have her full attention. Would
he ever have it again?
"Serious about raising him to be your--your--"
"Why not, Jim?"
"It's impossible."
"Is it? It certainly is far more possible with him, isn't it? That much
I understood from your zoology books."
"I suppose so."
"Besides, I have nothing to lose, have I?"
"But even if it were possible, wouldn't it be humiliating for you? The
creature's mindless!"
Magnolia's leaves rustled in the darkness. She was laughing--a little
bitterly. "Your Phyllis isn't your intellectual equal, Jim, and yet you
say you love her and I suppose you do. Am I not entitled to my follies
also?"
But she couldn't compare Phyllis to a holly plant! It was unreasonable.
"He may die, of course," Magnolia said. "I've got to be prepared for
that. The soil is different, the air is different, the sun is different.
But the chances are, if he survives, he'll turn blue. And if he turns
blue, who knows what other changes might be brought about? Maybe the
plants on your Earth aren't inherently mindless, Jim. Maybe they just
didn't have a chance. 'Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime...?' That land isn't
Earth, Jim, so it might just possibly be Elysium."
* * * * *
Again he didn't say anything. What he wanted to say, he had no right to
say, so he kept silent.
"It'll be a chance for me, too, Jim. At least we're both plants, he and
I. That gives us a headstart."
"Yes, I suppose it does."
"Intellect doesn't count for much in the propagation of the species.
Life goes on without regard for reason, and that's mainly what we're
here for, to make sure that life goes on--if we're here for anything at
all. Thanks to your kind, Jim, life will continue on this planet; it
will certainly be your kind of life--and I hope it can be ours as well."
"Yes," he said. "I hope so, too."
And he did, but he wished it didn't have to continue in quite that way.
Perhaps it was a trick of the three moons, but the holly plant's leaves
seemed to have changed color.. They were no longer green, but almost
blue--powder blue.
"You'd best be getting on to your party, Jim," Magnolia said. "You
wouldn't want to be remiss in your duties as host. And please close the
door gently when you go inside. The little holly plant's asleep."
As he closed the door carefully behind him, he heard a burst of laughter
coming from the kitchen, where the guests apparently had
assembled--raucous animal laughter--and, rising shrill and noisy above
it, Phyllis's company laugh.
--EVELYN E. SMITH