Chapter 16: BP001-P13 – White Wine 5 – Meiandra Arvis

"We're about to get to the centre of the garden. If I wouldn't know the way, it wouldn't be that easy to find it today."

The air was filled with a mild sweet scent and it became more intense the closer they came to a fence of vines. Once there, they stepped through an opening in this fence into an open area that must have been the centre.

The centre was a circle with green grass, old wooden benches, gas lanterns and a bird fountain in the middle. There were no birds. The fountain had no water. From the looks of it, it had not for a long time. The stone was all porous, so dried up it was. Light green plants with delicate leaves grew out of the narrow cracks. Nature had seized the fountain. It also had a firm grip on the lanterns and benches. It was very quiet. It seemed almost idyllic as long as you kept your eyes on the fountain.

The edges of the circle were overgrown with a mysterious plant. Without it, the boundary to the rest of the garden would not exist. It was an impenetrable fence that only allowed one to enter the centre via two openings that had been cut free. The plant was a shrub, but not really. From the way it grew, it looked like vines, but they were none. The supposed vines were made of dark wood and had a textured bark. But they were not branches either. It was nothing really.

The vines grew in arches, splitting towards the sky. Their ends were black as night and pointed like lances. If you fell on them from above, it would not end well. These wooden vines had no leaves, but a considerable number of bluish blossoms. Meia had never seen such a strange plant in any book. It did not seem to be from Jena. In fact, it did not even seem to be from this world. It looked more like something that had been created than something that would grow by itself.

"What kind of plant is this? The blossoms are beautiful. There are so many."

For the first time, Meia spoke without mumbling or stuttering. In view of the flowers, she forgot where she was.

"In contrast to yours, these are false roses." Mr Monet pointed to the peony on her hat with a striking look and then raised his hand in front of the vines to draw her attention back to them. "They are not significant plants. At first glance their blossoms appear beautiful, but only at first. On closer inspection, you quickly notice how unclean they are. The petals are frayed and full of holes. They disguise their flaws with bold colour, but in reality they are ugly." Even before he finished, he put his hand around one of the flowers, pulled it towards her and pressed down one of the petals with his thumb.

Up close they were, as he said. The petals did not have full curves. Little corners were missing everywhere and they were full of tiny holes, as if insects had eaten from them.

Meia stepped back again and Mr Monet let go of the flower. As if in humility, it slowly descended. It was reminiscent of a child who had been scolded by its parents.

"I still think they're beautiful, even if they're not perfect."

"Yes, they certainly possess an undeniable beauty, otherwise they wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, their beauty is only superficial."

"Does it make a difference?"

"It does. Real beauty is not so pompous. Real beauty has to hide, because everyone wants it. It is the same with these plants. They always bloom for a very short time and when the blossoms wither, the rest of the shrub dies too. Without them, it is just a worthless construct of dead wood. However, a new one always grows up from the decayed sexes of the flowers. Once you have planted them, they will never disappear on their own. They are weeds that grow ever denser and higher until everything is overgrown by them. They themselves do not care. They need no space, no light, no water, not even soil. Yet they are so beautiful. A seemingly amazing plant."

"Is it not?"

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"Unfortunately not. This perception also only stands up to the first glance. You can't create anything out of nothing and these plants are not capable of doing that either. Such a shrub does not live long, for they have no leaves of their own to gather light for them. Under the ground, where it cannot be seen, they secretly cling to the roots of real plants to steal their nutrients. They cannot survive on their own. They are parasites. But they squander everything they gain to keep up appearances, to shine more than all the others, although they basically contribute nothing. They decorate themselves out of someone else's effort in order to appear more attractive to pollinators, in the hope of spreading more quickly that way. And with success. They are more attractive than all other plants, especially to vermin. They have no defences, because if you don't have to work for anything, you're not afraid to lose anything, so they always get infested first, and when that happens, I burn them down, along with the vermin that have infested them in disappointed greed. So despite all their flaws, I keep them to protect the real plants. Their presence is a safeguard. As I said, they are not significant plants." Mr Monet smiled assuringly. "But I am pleased that this plant was able to elicit a few words from you. Up to now you have been rather quiet."

The sentence brought Meia back to reality. What should she say to that? It seemed he liked his garden very much, yet during the whole time she had hardly listened to him.

"I know how such a letter from me must have seemed, but I want to assure you, there is no pressure and no consequences. I am not such of person. I just wanted to meet someone who is concerned about more than money. That is why I invited you. At the party of the Hagen family, you were the only one who did not pretend in order to live up to the expectations of the others. I also had quite a laugh when you threw wine at Mr. Hagen. It was the most entertaining moment of the evening for me."

Meia turned as white as a sheet. The Hagen family was part of the government. The fact that they were invited the last time was already an exception and thus probably the last time.

"So you didn't know? I thought so. You don't have to worry, I spoke to Mr Hagen that evening and asked him to forget about it. As far as I know, he had also spoken to your father. So there are no problems."

~That's why he wasn't angry.~ Meia felt a small weight fall from her heart.

"I don't want to force you to anything. If you want to go home, all you have to do is say so and I'll arrange for it."

Meia hid behind a smile. It was a friendly offer, but it was also irrelevant. Barely recognisable, she shook her head.

"Do you want to eat something?"

"Mhm."

He reached out to her and they walked on, probably back to the courtyard.

On the way back, he still had his smile, but he also looked a little sad. The expression was the same as hers, only the reason was different. One thing puzzled her. He had said he wanted to meet someone who cares about more than money? Surely he knew a lot of people? They all only cared about money? Now she remembered that he had also mentioned a motive behind the gifts. No one gave you a gift without a motive. No one talked to you unless there was a reason. Was it lonely at the top? It probably was. In principle, it was not that far from her life. It was a commonality it seems...

Now that Meia knew about the plant, she noticed the tips of these vines all over the garden. Everywhere they poked out of the ground. Everywhere they grew up between the normal plants. They were at every corner. They were between the pavement stones, around the bases of the lanterns, around the feet of the benches. Meia could no longer miss them. Even after she tried, she could not. It seemed as if the whole garden was undermined by them. The fence of vines in the centre was probably just their centre too. Somehow it was spooky that they were spreading so much. It had been more pleasant when she had been unaware of them. Now she could no longer escape them. It was an oppressive feeling that crept over her. A tightness, as if the same path had suddenly become narrower. She was glad that tehy would leave the garden again.

.../ End Part

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