Work Text:
[Statement of Etho Slab, regarding his employment at a greenhouse.]
[STATEMENT BEGINS]
I like plants. I've always liked being in their company, and I always wanted to get a career where I could work with them. The greenhouse was a dream come true for me. Part of me wishes it had stayed that way, while another part of me wishes I'd never gone there in the first place. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. I worked there, and it was weird, and now I just need to tell you about it and try to forget it happened.
The greenhouse was a pretty small place, basically a mom and pop shop. It didn't pay extremely well, but the hours were good and it was only a few blocks from where I was living at the time, so I went ahead and applied. I barely had to wait a few days before a man with a loud, abrasive voice called and hired me on the spot. Maybe I should've taken that as a red flag, but I was just excited to get to work.
I met Bdubs in person on my first day. He was a short man, but he looked very strong, and he had olive skin and short salt and pepper hair. His eyes were large and dark, and they seemed to sparkle with a strange light. He wore the type of work clothes you’d expect for a greenhouse job, except for the weird moss cloak he was always wearing. He introduced himself, and put me to work before I even had a chance to tell him who I was.
It was a good job, all things considered. There weren't many people working there, just me and Bdubs and two other guys. never got around to learning their real names. We just called ‘em Doc and Beef. Dunno why, but they were pretty nice guys; I didn't mind working with them. Not to mention Bdubs himself made for some pretty good company. He enjoyed making himself the butt of a joke and his laughter was absolutely infectious. He was a loud guy, and his two modes seemed to either be indignant yelling or tending to the plants that he loved so much. And he did love them. Treated them like family, and he treated the rest of us almost as well. I think I could've worked there for years and been totally happy if it weren't for the cloak.
Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against eccentric people. I myself wear a mask almost all the time. If Bdubs wanted to wear a cloak all the time, that was his business. Except, there were two things off about it. One, he never took it off. Ever. no matter how hot or cold it got, or how much heavy lifting he did, the cloak stayed firmly fastened around his shoulders. I don’t think he even took it off in the shower. Again, kinda weird but not too bad. But the other thing was that the moss it was made of couldn't have been real moss. No moss I know of is sturdy enough to survive being used as clothing, especially not that often. And yet, it seemed to thrive on rainy days, and wilt on the dry hot ones. It was lush and green and… Well. it couldn't have been alive, but it acted like it could’ve been.
He let me touch it once. I had asked him about his cloak, what it was made of, where he had gotten the moss. I assumed at the time that it was just really high quality craft moss or something. But he laughed and shook his head and said he hadn’t bought it anywhere else. He’d grown it himself. Obviously that wasn’t possible and I told him as much. He held out a corner of the cloak to me and said I could touch it, see for myself. And I did. And he was right. It was definitely alive. It was soft. Springy. Comfortable. As I brushed my hands over them somehow living moss, I felt a strange prickling sensation. It felt almost like a thousand tiny soft hooks grabbing my skin. I pulled my hand away quickly, and Bdubs didn't seem offended, but he did seem a little bit sad. I excused myself and got back to work.
I couldn't stop thinking about it. I should've left it alone, but I couldn't. I see a machine that I can't understand, and I have to take it apart and know how it works. Which means, as I started to pay attention, I saw things that didn't match up.
Remember how I said he treated the plants like family? That wasn’t exaggeration. It wasn't just that he would talk to them (although he definitely did. Heck, I do too). He always seemed to know exactly what they needed, before any of us did. That by itself wasn't unusual, necessarily, but combined with the cloak, I couldn't help but wonder.
Then there was his whole thing about gardens. I started to notice he never called the greenhouse a greenhouse; it was always “his garden”. Sometimes, after the whole cloak incident, he'd ask me if I was planning on starting my own garden. I said yeah, and I'd start going on about my tomatoes or whatever it was I was growing at the time, but he’d shake his head and say, “not that kind of garden.” He never elaborated past that.
He was always so insistent about closing time. Didn’t matter what was still left to do, he’d always make sure we were all out of the building when our shifts were over. At first I thought he was just a weirdly conscientious boss. Except, I never once arrived before him, either. No matter how early I was, he was always already there.
The thing that made me the most uneasy, though, was that I saw Doc and Beef working less and less. I don't know where they went. I never heard anything from them, to this day. They were just gone, and Bdubs was always upset when I asked about it. So, eventually I stopped asking, and it was just the two of us working. I wasn't sure if that fact made me feel better or worse. I still don't know.
The last day I worked there was pretty normal. Bdubs asked about my garden, of course, but that was basically routine by then. I waved goodbye, and went to the café next door before going to my car. I had just gotten there when I realized I left my keys in the building. I should’ve just walked home. I lived close enough to my work that wouldn’t take too long. But it was dark by then, and while it wasn’t far from my home, it was far enough that walking there alone at night made me uneasy. So I turned around and went back to the greenhouse to pick up my keys. I was about to open the door when I saw Bdubs through the window. Something was off. Wrong, somehow. I didn't know what.
I opened the door as quietly as I could. Bdubs didn't notice me. The overhead sprinklers were on. They weren’t letting out a ton of water or anything like that, just putting a light mist throughout the entire greenhouse. Bdubs’ cloak looked as big and healthy and green as it has ever been. Bdubs seemed healthier, too. His skin had a weird glow about it, like he was drinking in the water as much as the moss was. As I looked closer at his skin, I saw what was strange about him, and I had to fight to keep myself from making a sound.
There were sprouts poking through his skin . Small green shoots, like hairs, barely peeking through the surface, all over his arms, his neck, his face. I watched in silent shock as he pulled one slightly longer shoot out of his arm, leaving behind a small, bleeding hole. It had roots. Of course it did. Small, weak little roots, still wet with blood. Bdubs inspected it just as he did any other plant in the greenhouse. He eventually gave a satisfied nod, and placed the sprout into one of the small growing pots sitting on his workbench. He adjusted the soil and watered it, and then went on to the next sprout. As he worked, I saw that there weren't just sprouts. At one point he raised an arm, and I could make out thin, fragile roots poking from that cloak of his and burrowing into his shoulder through his shirt.
I think I made a noise, then. All those little details piled on top of each other, and I couldn't keep myself calm. So, of course Bdubs startled, and looked around wildly. He acted the same as always when he was surprised. It’d be easier if he’d acted like some kind of monster. Anyway, he finally saw me, and when he did, I swear that every plant in the greenhouse did as well.
He smiled at me with too many teeth, and asked me if I was ready to start my garden. He was walking towards me, sprouts in his arms blooming, moss cloak swelling with how well-fed it looked. He said he’d been wanting me to… to start at my own pace. He seemed so happy to see me there. Even with how scared I was, I'd be lying if I said some part of me wasn't happy to see him, too.
Bdubs kept walking until he was right in front of me. He gave me the same kind smile he wore when dealing with a sprout that “needed encouragement,” in his words. He took my hand in his and raised it to his lips. I could feel roots pulsing under his skin like some sick heartbeat. He gently kissed my hand. Almost immediately, I felt a strange, nauseating itch, like something growing.
I ran, then. I forced myself not to look back, because I know exactly what expression would’ve been on Bdubs’ face, and I don't think I would’ve had it in me to keep running if I looked. I didn't even grab my keys. I figured no mugger in a dark alley would be half as dangerous as what I was running from. I locked the doors. I remembered the itch in my hand. I didn't want to look, but I had to. There were a couple small morning glories blooming from the place where Bdubs had kissed my hand. I ripped them out and scoured the bleeding patch of skin until I was certain that there were no lingering roots or vines or anything like that. I didn't sleep much that night, or the night after.
It was a couple days before I felt safe enough to leave my apartment, and a few days after that before I could get close to the greenhouse. My car was still there, surrounded by torn bits of plant matter and cloth. The car itself was totally untouched despite the fact that the keys had been left on the front seat and the doors were left unlocked. I didn't want to think about why that could be. I especially didn’t want to think about the small leaves I saw poking from the A/C vents.
I moved out not long after that. Got a new job in a different city. I never officially quit the greenhouse, nor did Bdubs fire me. I did get paid for the last few days I worked there, which was nice. I was worried he might come after me and exact plant-based vengeance on me, but he never did. The most that ever happens is that every once in a while, I catch morning glories growing in places they shouldn't— a crack in my wall, my showerhead, places like that. I used to panic about it, ripping them out of whatever place I found them and spraying weed killer on them, but they would always just grow back. Nowadays, unless I catch them growing on me, I leave them alone.
I couldn't bring myself to delete Bdubs’ contact from my phone. I know it’s stupid, but, even after all that, I miss that job sometimes. I miss him sometimes. It's the funniest thing. It's been years, but I get the feeling that if I walked through those doors again, Bdubs would just hand me a box of bulbs and tell me where to put ‘em like nothing had ever happened. I almost want to test that theory.
[STATEMENT ENDS]