Part 2:
Voices in the room? Calling out right during dinner!
We scanned everywhere for intruders.
There’d been three voices in all, each taking a few words of the overall message.
The source proved impossible to pinpoint.
But we had a notion.
“Is this a joke?” Genevieve asked. “Was that real?”
“I hope so,” I said, “I very much hope that was real.”
Dale looked at me with budding elation.
Disembodied voices?
We had a history with disembodied voices.
We scanned everywhere for intruders.
There’d been three voices in all, each taking a few words of the overall message.
The source proved impossible to pinpoint.
But we had a notion.
“Is this a joke?” Genevieve asked. “Was that real?”
“I hope so,” I said, “I very much hope that was real.”
Dale looked at me with budding elation.
Disembodied voices?
We had a history with disembodied voices.
The oranges!
Since we’d planted their seeds three months ago, they’d grown to small stalks with dangling leaves.
They bore no fruit, of course, and probably never would.
But if once talking oranges – why not talking stalks?
“Hello?” Rick called out. “Can anyone hear me?”
“We hear you/And wish you/Good greetings,” they crooned as tiny leaves flapped and rustled.
We rushed to the bay window and dropped beside the plants.
“Sal, Axxey? Cray?”
“Voices anew/Our forerunners gone/Their legacies strong.”
“What do you mean?” Dale asked. “You’re not the oranges?”
“Their thoughts are within/Even as we begin/To become our own selves.”
“You’re … new?”
Rick, Dale and I looked at each other with dashed hopes.
These were not the friends we’d remembered?
Since we’d planted their seeds three months ago, they’d grown to small stalks with dangling leaves.
They bore no fruit, of course, and probably never would.
But if once talking oranges – why not talking stalks?
“Hello?” Rick called out. “Can anyone hear me?”
“We hear you/And wish you/Good greetings,” they crooned as tiny leaves flapped and rustled.
We rushed to the bay window and dropped beside the plants.
“Sal, Axxey? Cray?”
“Voices anew/Our forerunners gone/Their legacies strong.”
“What do you mean?” Dale asked. “You’re not the oranges?”
“Their thoughts are within/Even as we begin/To become our own selves.”
“You’re … new?”
Rick, Dale and I looked at each other with dashed hopes.
These were not the friends we’d remembered?
Upon reflection, however, they did seem strangely familiar.
The first voice was masculine, like a musical doctor with an excellent bedside manner.
The second voice, feminine, sounded off-key on low notes but hit high notes to perfection.
The third voice, also male, boomed like an opera singer, yet never overpowered the others.
“You didn’t tell me they sang,” Genevieve said. “It’s beautiful.”
“This is a new development. A change in their M.O.”
“What are your names?” Dale asked.
“No names do we own/As we are just three/Three seekers who grow.”
“Do you always sing together?” I asked. “Can you go solo?”
“If you wishhhh,” sang the first.
“If you wishhhh,” sang the second.
“If you wishhhh,” sang the third.
“OK, maybe that’s not the best idea. Sing as a group, if that’s what you like.”
“Are you happy?” Dale added. “Water, light, that stuff?”
“Our health is quite good/Except for being singled/We’d prefer to grow intermingled.”
“In one pot?” Rick asked. “Sure, we’ll get you all in the same dirt.”
We’d read books and tinkered with water levels and adjusted light sources.
Now it had paid off. The seeds had awoken!
The first voice was masculine, like a musical doctor with an excellent bedside manner.
The second voice, feminine, sounded off-key on low notes but hit high notes to perfection.
The third voice, also male, boomed like an opera singer, yet never overpowered the others.
“You didn’t tell me they sang,” Genevieve said. “It’s beautiful.”
“This is a new development. A change in their M.O.”
“What are your names?” Dale asked.
“No names do we own/As we are just three/Three seekers who grow.”
“Do you always sing together?” I asked. “Can you go solo?”
“If you wishhhh,” sang the first.
“If you wishhhh,” sang the second.
“If you wishhhh,” sang the third.
“OK, maybe that’s not the best idea. Sing as a group, if that’s what you like.”
“Are you happy?” Dale added. “Water, light, that stuff?”
“Our health is quite good/Except for being singled/We’d prefer to grow intermingled.”
“In one pot?” Rick asked. “Sure, we’ll get you all in the same dirt.”
We’d read books and tinkered with water levels and adjusted light sources.
Now it had paid off. The seeds had awoken!
“Can we give you names?” Dale asked.
“Select as you will/And titles instill/As you deem appropriate.”
“Yes!”
“I was thinking about your old dog, Sammy,” Rick said to Gen.
“Sammy? I still miss him”
“Yeah. Let’s call one Sam. If that’s cool.”
“That’s very cool. Thanks, Hatcher.”
“OK, Dale, you name one.”
“I’ve decided to name mine ... Gardner. Since we’re, you know, their gardeners.”
“Yeah, but you gestured toward the female one,” Gen said. “Gardner is a man’s name.”
“I’ve always thought it unisex.”
“Unisex? Gardner? Unisex is more like Terri, Kerry, Perry …”
“Mary?”
“Mary? Mary is unisex? Do you know what unisex means?”
“I thought I did.”
“Select as you will/And titles instill/As you deem appropriate.”
“Yes!”
“I was thinking about your old dog, Sammy,” Rick said to Gen.
“Sammy? I still miss him”
“Yeah. Let’s call one Sam. If that’s cool.”
“That’s very cool. Thanks, Hatcher.”
“OK, Dale, you name one.”
“I’ve decided to name mine ... Gardner. Since we’re, you know, their gardeners.”
“Yeah, but you gestured toward the female one,” Gen said. “Gardner is a man’s name.”
“I’ve always thought it unisex.”
“Unisex? Gardner? Unisex is more like Terri, Kerry, Perry …”
“Mary?”
“Mary? Mary is unisex? Do you know what unisex means?”
“I thought I did.”
“Josephine,” laughed Gen. “Help us out.”
“Me? I’m gonna go with … Bit.”
“Bit?” they responded.
“There’s got to be a bit of the old oranges in this new batch. Some speck of who they were.”
“That’s nice,” Dale said.
“And it’s short for bittersweet. Because I guess the oranges we knew aren’t coming back. If that’s not stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Rick said. “Not at all. Although I was sure you’d choose a weather term.”
“Nah. I’m no one-trick pony.”
“OK, we’re all set,” Dale said. “Sam, Gardner and Bit.”
“From seeds to singing plants. Born of the world's best oranges."
“Me? I’m gonna go with … Bit.”
“Bit?” they responded.
“There’s got to be a bit of the old oranges in this new batch. Some speck of who they were.”
“That’s nice,” Dale said.
“And it’s short for bittersweet. Because I guess the oranges we knew aren’t coming back. If that’s not stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Rick said. “Not at all. Although I was sure you’d choose a weather term.”
“Nah. I’m no one-trick pony.”
“OK, we’re all set,” Dale said. “Sam, Gardner and Bit.”
“From seeds to singing plants. Born of the world's best oranges."