❤❤❤This chapter is dedicated to @Ayisha186, a beautiful human and great writer. They were the first person to comment on this chapter, I appreciate that and everyone should go checkout their stuff   ❤❤❤

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The car came to a halt in front of the community garden. Amelia turned to me with a hopeful smile. "Remember, keep an open mind. You might be surprised at what you find here." I closed my eyes momentarily and tried to remember that my being there wasn't her fault. With a deep breath, I turned and gave her the best smile I could manage. I hate it when people take things out on me, so I can't do that to her.

I gave her a tight smile in return. "Okay, thanks for the ride." I got out of the car but could feel Amelia watching me for a minute longer, but I didn't turn back until she drove away. I took in my surroundings. There was a short stone wall on either side of the courtyard where Amilia dropped me off. On one side, through a gate that read authorized personal, only a line of golf carts waiting. In the courtyard, carts were setting up stocks of different flowers. And there was a building entrance to the other side that looked like the main entrance to the garden.

I looked at my community service log book and found that my supervisor, Jennifer Shale, is the one I am supposed to see. She is the head of the garden and volunteers in the greenhouse. Not that I was a volunteer, of course. I glance around for someone who looks like they are in charge. Shouldn't greeting her convict be at the top of her priority list? There are other groups of people milling around in this early morning. Groups of scouts wearing matching tee shirts. Smaller groups that you can tell are together due to their proximity. I realized this was an educational place; I was in for a summer of sticky kids climbing everywhere. All the groups were making their way to a lady holding a clipboard. I assumed she was Jennifer, the supervisor I was looking for. I started moving toward her when someone carrying a bag of mulch cut me off mid-stride. In reaction, I put my hands out to stop the impact of the pressure applied to the mulch bag, so it and the owner fell over.

"Hey," I shouted as the mulch landed on the body carrying it. Luckily, a healthy layer of mulch crunched beneath my feet. The ground may have been soft. The person holding it groaned. "Try not to run anyone over."

The group I was walking toward turned to us, watching us, including Jennifer, or I assume she was Jennifer. The person pulled their way out from under the mulch. They were cursing with words hardly appropriate for all these children. The clipboard woman made her way over to our scene, glances warning the others to stay away.

I thought she warned them to stay away from me, but I learned I was wrong when I looked back at the mulch carrier. I came face to face with eyes burning with anger, glittering with rage. Those eyes held me in a trance for a moment, and then I felt this pull to look away from their intensity. The air smelled floral sweet, and it was distracting when my eyes were closed for a moment. When I opened my eyes, I looked back at her face. It was plain. Yes, plain is the word I would use to describe her—not ugly or beautiful, but a face that could blend into a crowd. She was of average size, with brown hair in two braids. She had a pair of overalls on. If I looked away from her momentarily, I would forget what she looked like. Not that I particularly cared if I remembered.

"Hello, you stepped in my way. No one steps in front of a person carrying mulch. We can't see anything, timestamp." She slammed her palms into my chest, pushing me away from her. She glanced at the blue-haired boy and a bigger, mouse-faced girl waiting for her, Eyes wide as they glanced between us. Then, she reached for her mulch bag, apparently done with my company.

"Why did you call me timestamp? What does that mean?" She hefted the mulch into her arms; it looked heavy and hard to carry, but I didn't help. In fact, looking back on our meeting, it was strange. Usually, I would have helped her stand and offered to carry the bag, but she was hard to look at or get close to. She paused before she left and looked at the ground next to me; maybe I was hard for her to look at. Her brown braids fell over her shoulder.

"You are required to be here and get that timestamped." Her head bobs in the direction of my community service log. Then she is gone at a pace I don't think she can maintain carrying mulch. Blue hair and a mouse face follow in her wake. I don't follow her; instead, I look at Jennifer, who is now in front of me.

"Are you Mr. Redfield?" she asked with a warm smile. She had a hippy vibe, the flowy dress that stopped above her sandals. Her hair was wild and crazy like she had never brushed it before.

"Yes, I'm apparently your new timestamp." I shrugged. "Are you Jennifer Shale, my supervisor?"

"Yes, I'm Jenny. I insist you call me that, and you need to go to the grey house and see our timestamp machine." Jenny winked at me and laughed. I'm glad she finds this funny. "Timestamp." She walked me to the aptly named grey house, and we passed a bit of the garden on the way. The maze bushes caught my attention. Jenny laughed, saying that was the most popular fall attraction. The gray house was a one-story, low, ceiling-grey building sunk into the ground. One of the walls was all these 70s-style thick glass windows. The rest of the windows were small. This was a large shed. Most of the building held tools and supplies for the garden. The one side room with the glass had a table, and on the other wall, there were lockers. At the entrance to this room was the timestamp machine. I already had a sheet with my name on it.

"Is this a break room?"

"Technically, yes, but most people take their break outside since it is nice. It can get hot in the grey house. This is where people leave belongings and stuff they don't want to carry around." She nodded to a locker at the end of the row, the only one that didn't have duct tape and a name. "That one is yours. Put your stuff in it, and I'll take you to meet your direct supervisor?" She smiled.

"My paperwork says that you are my supervisor?" I asked.

"Oh, I am in charge of everyone who works here, but summer is our busy season with groups and families. So, we need extra hands in the area of care and maintenance. I am having you work directly with someone in that department." She smiled, and lines on her face strained at the edges. She coughed before pulling out a walkie-talkie and handing it to me. "The only dial you should touch is the volume everyone is set up to talk to each other."

"Why do I need this? Can't I just use my phone?"

"Yes, but this is more efficient, sometimes. I ask open-ended questions anyone can answer, keeping it from getting confused." She motioned me to follow her out of the grey house as she used her walkie-talkie. "Jenny to Sage."

"This is Sage."

"What is your location?"

"I'm in the greenhouse seedling room currently."

"Hang tight. I'm coming to you."

"Okay." The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. Jenny started walking again toward what I would not call a greenhouse but a green mansion. This was where the front entrance, not the worker's entrance, where I came in. When we walked through the greenhouse rooms, people were milling around. They were looking at the plants. Each room represented a different environment. My jaw dropped when we got to the trees. The ceiling had to be several stories up to contain them. There were catwalks in the sky so people could care for these trees.

Jenny went to the side of the building through two more rooms. Before long, we reached a room with an authorized personnel-only sign and glass doors. You had to swipe a card to enter. The light was a jarring difference, the more unnatural white light of a laboratory. The room had several tables, all with a similar array of stuff on them. Some had young plants with names and dates on tags attached to them. The further in you went, the younger the plants got. Some were just pots, and some were stems and roots suspended in water. Finally, there was a workstation with a sink, counters, and a computer along the wall. Sitting at the computer was a girl looking at an Excel data spreadsheet. Her back was to us; I saw her braids and jeans overalls. Then, the sweet floral scent hit me in the chest, and I remembered the girl from this morning.

"Oh, no," I said out loud. It wasn't the best move, and it startled the mulch girl right off the stool. I froze, ready for her to yell at me or throw around insulting nicknames like this morning. Even though neither this morning nor now was my fault. Looking at her made me feel like my skin was crawling. I focused on the stems floating in the water. What sort of Frankenstein experiment was this girl doing? It looked like whatever experiment she was making was a cross of Frankenstein and a little shop of horrors. I laughed; it was not a musical; this girl gave me the post-apocalyptic genre vibe. A radioactive sentient vine that kills people, haha. A hand slammed on a desk, and my eyes snapped to the conversation.

"I work alone, Jenny." She pulled at a rope, and a long string and a plastic flap fell in front of the computer. She zipped that plastic flap to seal in the computer. I wasn't thrilled about working with her, which made us even. "I uploaded and cataloged our readings and times from yesterday. I'm going to get to work with our infected roses. Please find someone else to babysit him."

"Nope, you are working with him. I need another hand helping with the infected roses. They need to stop curling and show people what they are supposed to look like." Jenny looked imploringly at Sage. This is a dumb greenhouse. What makes this girl think she is so special? "One of you is amazing; imagine how effective two of you would be, well, one and a half."

"More like one and a liability," Sage muttered. Goddess, it took every ounce of self-control not to roll my eyes; they are plants.

"It is this, or I'll have to pull a tour leader to train him, and you will have to pick up those tours. So, what will it be, one person or twenty people?"

"Fine, but I do it under protest." Sage reached the ground for a bucket of soapy water and thrust it toward me. She grabbed two rags and started out the back door. "Let's go, timestamp." Jenny glanced between Sage and me and then shook her head. At least she found me a better option than twenty people, but I wasn't sure I agreed. Sage was sitting in the driver's seat of a golf cart. She was rolling her eyes as I walked out, sloshing the water down the front of my shirt. I put the bucket at my feet, and Sage took off.

"What is my job exactly?" I asked, trying to keep the bucket steady with her insane driving. I noticed dirt stains on her knees and dirt on her hands. But my attention was pulled away as a sharp turn shifted my body to the side. The weight of my back leaning out of the golf cart. We aren't even on the road; I'm sure she was speeding. Maybe I could turn this interaction around if I was nice to her as I tried to be with Ameilia.

"Spider mites are on them. They chew through the leaves and kill the plants; they only go after the flowers with red pigment so far. At sunset, we spray the insecticide on the soil. Right now, we will cut any leaves that are too far gone and wipe the leaves that are still left with soap and water."

"Each leaf?" I stared at her mouth hanging open. She whipped the golf cart around the corner, slamming on the breaks to stop at our destination. Right next to one of the entrances to the maze, as I noted earlier, She was crazy in more ways than one. "That could take hours!"

She hopped out of the cart, grabbing a bucket. The rose garden was beautiful. A lattice fence separated the park from the rest of the property. A little waterfall fed the stream flowing under the wall. Roses were climbing the fence. I spotted rose trees that I had never seen before. There were rose bushes and ones on stems—all colors and sizes.

"Alright, there is another bucket under the bench and clippers. Remember, be gentle with your wipes on the leaves; if you are too rough, they will break off." She set to work on one side of the garden. I sat on a bench. There was no way I was going to go through every individual leaf. I'd rather the whole garden die. I was right when I said that it would take hours. That girl, whatever her name was, I already forgot, was still at it later when my phone started to die. I was avoiding looking at her. I would gladly give her what she wanted, to work alone. People walk through this part of the garden the whole time we are out, marveling at the work and beauty. Some people asked what she was doing. Laying on the bench, I looked more like a visitor than a worker. The tour guides were the ones who answered the questions when the girl ignored them. The only sound from her was soft mumbling as she worked.

She picked up all the cuttings and weeds when the walkie-talkie called for Sage. It had been going off all day, but this was the first time it had been for her. It also reminded me of what her name was.

"Lenny to Sage." She grabbed the walkie off her overalls.

"This is Sage."

"I'm heading toward the roses for the insecticide bath. I know you were doing a wash today, and I want to check that you are ready?"

"I should be taking the clippings to the composter before you even get down here, so you are good to go."

"Oh, Sage, Reece in exotics was going off the deep end. You should check that out; it has something to do with the watering system."

"Oh, thanks for the heads up. I'll check it out." Sage's voice over the radio was pleasant; I guess she liked this Lenny person. She grabbed her bag and walked away, expecting me to follow her out of the garden to a picnic area. She opened the large composter and added all the greenery to it. I noticed she didn't wear gloves, all those thorns, and no protection. I watched before walking to the golf cart. I jumped on the back at the last minute before she took off. I didn't want to sit in the front, my brain telling me to stay away from her. Sage huffed when my weight settled on the golf cart. Her erratic driving was worse than before, making me believe she was trying to shake me off.

Sage pulled abruptly to a stop in the car maintenance car park, so fast that I slammed my head against the seat. I imagined filming her getting ripped apart by sentient rose bushes would be fun. She dropped the supplies back at her work area like a woman on a mission and stormed out, leaving me to follow her. She walked straight to a hot and humid room, and all the plants had broad palm leaves.

"Reece, Lenny sent me. He said there was a problem?" I heard panicked crying in the distance, but I didn't know what the person was saying. I followed Sage until we came upon the mouse-faced girl sitting on the walkway's edge. She sat sunk into the plants' leaves and hyperventilating. I took this moment to look at her since I barely gave her my attention this morning. She was a bit bigger but not fat, definitely tall. Her hair was chopped off in a blond pixie cut, at least that's what I think it is called. Pixies don't all have short hair, so I don't know where that term came from. "Reece, breathe and tell me what is wrong?" Sage sounded like she cared but remained far from Reece, surveying the room. Another person came in, a blue-haired guy carrying a small device with a spike on one end. He looked a little crazy in the eye as he ran in. Looking around, they seemed to believe this was the world's end. His blue hair was sticking up at all the wrong angles from running his hands through it.

"I got the moisture gauges," he said, skidding to stop when he noticed Sage. "Oh, thank god, Sage, you're here." I rolled my eyes. The sun did not rise and set by this girl's will. I settled onto the edge of the path humans worry about the strangest things. These people need to realize these are just plants.

"Well, is there anything we can do?" Reece said, standing up. Sage, someone set this room's water level too high, and now my babies are sick with root rot. Can't you smell it?" Reece gestured to several plants but wasn't clear on the smell I was looking for. Sage touched several plants. She looked them over but didn't seem to be doing anything about the situation.

After looking at the plants momentarily, she turned her attention to calm Reece and the blue-haired boy Denis. She then walked to the part of the greenhouse where Jenny and I had found her earlier. Sage jumped on the computer and pulled up a room, which I assume was the one we were in. I started looking around the room anywhere, but at her, in case she tried to get me to do something. Her bag was open, and something in there was familiar to me. I didn't want the girl to catch me going through her bag, so I read a letter that may or may not have fallen out. It was from a HA to Sage; that was her name. It was about a person named Hollis coming to see her. But the phrases were settling with an ominous tone.

"Someone did adjust the water levels!" Sage reached a shelf and pulled out a binder to flip through until she found what she sought. Never once did she look away from her task. She then changed something on the computer. I turned back to her when the book smacked down. "What are you doing with that?"

"I was reading it." I put the letter back on the counter. Although it contained nothing interesting, she fumed and marched over to me.

"How much did you read?" she snatched the paper up. Her anger was the first time today I felt compelled to look at her.

"Nothing of interest. It was about this Hollis person coming to see you," I explained. She got ridged at his name, which confirmed the ominous feeling I had reading it. Her anger dissipated, and she caved in on herself because of her fear of this person. I shook my head, riding myself off the urge to look away. It was interesting. All day, I had imagined ways to hurt her, but when it happened, my heart picked up speed at sight.

"My life isn't meant to interest you, timestamp." She tried to return her bravado, but it was too late; her fear had revealed her. "Never go through my stuff again, and how about we give you something simple to do? Go through this book and verify that the level triggers match the book on the computer."

"I'm not doing anything," I said, putting the book she shoved in my arms on the table. I stared at the book back, not wanting to look at her.

"Oh yes, you are unless you want Jenny to find out how you sat on your phone all day. This is community service, not a babysitting service. I imagine the next step after getting kicked out of here will not be pleasant for you." She picked the book back up and held it out for me. You will do what I ask when I ask it. Still, I'll give you this; you don't have to be happy about it."

No matter how much my brain screamed at me to look away, I held her gaze. I was staring through a fog, seeing but not understanding. I mumbled my response, knowing she was right, and took the book from her outstretched hands. The subsequent punishment after this was a stay at a detention center. The witch council was then going to bind my magic for two years. I had a lot to lose. She knew it, and so did I. She watched as I took my seat momentarily, and then she left to deal with the root rot situation. I slammed my fists on the table but did get to work. My job was easy even if I didn't like the blackmail. I pulled up rooms and areas with ID numbers and verified the levels. Then I moved to the next place, mind-numbing but easy.

I saw her again at the general closing. She led me out to where I arrived this morning. Neither of us spoke, and neither of us was particularly happy with our situation. She didn't look back when her car came to pick her up, not that I expected her to. When she pulled away, Jeremy pulled up for me. A chorus of texts lit up my phone when I plugged it in, Ruby and my friends asking me about my day.

| Did you make any friends today? |