Green Valentine, page 14
*
* Ridiculous. That new gardening centre is owned by an international conglomerate that also controls most of the fracking industry – there’s no way that they’d come up with something that was this a) environmentally conscious, and b) awesome.
* She’d wanted to get air conditioning installed last year, but I’d told her that it was too much of a drain on energy. I’d tried to bargain with her, saying we could get air con if we also got solar panels. But Dad didn’t want solar because he thought that the government should pay for energy-generation systems, and that individuals using solar weren’t going to solve any problems.
** Of course a cut tree was still better than an awful PVC plastic fake one. You may as well string fairy lights around a drum of toxic waste.
* Don’t even get me started on Valentine’s Day. Apart from the wastage of cards and ugly teddy bears and over-packaged boxes of chocolate, last year over seven million bunches of roses were imported into Australia for V-Day, in fuel-guzzling refrigerated transports from Kenya, Ethiopia and Columbia.
We arrived at the Victory Garden together the following night to find a group of strange hippy-types waiting for us. There were four of them, three guys and one girl. They looked older than us – I’d guess early twenties, but it was hard to tell under all the hemp and dreadlocks. They all blended into the same colour palette of tanned skin and earthy brown and green clothes, with lots of beads and weird symbols. Two of the guys wore sandals (probably vegan); the other guy and the girl were barefoot. The only thing that stood out from the browns and greens was the girl’s bright red hair, matted into thin dreadlocks and decorated with the occasional bead or ribbon. Her eyes were outlined in thick black eyeliner, and a silver stud glinted on her lower lip. Thai fisherman’s pants were slung low around her waist, exposing the kind of tanned, taut midriff that I’d only ever seen in highly photoshopped magazines. A cropped hemp singlet emphasised her cleavage, and silver chains and beads hung at her throat. She oozed raw, animalistic sexuality.
I’d always respected and envied the hippy lifestyle. They were so committed to their vision – it permeated every layer of their existence, the way they lived and dressed, the food they ate. Me? I couldn’t even give up bacon. I was a try-hard when it came to environmental ethics, unwilling to give up my modern comforts no matter how damaging they were.
‘So you’re the one behind this,’ the girl said, her voice low and husky. She was looking at Hiro.
‘We are,’ I said, stepping forward.
The girl’s eyes skimmed over me, then returned to Hiro. The other guys stared at her. She was clearly in charge.
‘It’s very impressive,’ she said, but I wasn’t entirely sure she meant it. ‘Your fame is spreading far and wide.’
‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘I’m Storm,’ she said.
I suspected Storm wasn’t her real name, but it suited her. Sultry and powerful.
‘Cool,’ said Hiro.
I felt a sting of jealousy. Wasn’t there a Storm in X-Men? Surely Hiro would be impressed by this wild, untameable super-hippy.
‘Anyway, if you ever want to come and play …’
My jealousy evaporated. Was she inviting us to join them? I had visions of being part of a real environmental movement, chaining myself to bulldozers and holding up placards outside ministerial offices.
‘Of course we’re a little more …’ Storm’s eyes glanced off me again, ‘extreme than you kids.’
‘We’re up for that,’ I said, unable to control the eagerness in my voice. Hiro shot me a disapproving glare. Didn’t he see what I saw? The potential for change?
‘Really?’ she said. ‘How pleasing. We prefer the big picture, though. Your gardening project is very cute, but we’re serious. Last month we destroyed an entire crop of GM canola.’
I blinked. Weren’t environmentalists supposed to protect plants? Not destroy them? But I suppose if they were GM then that was different …
Storm turned her gaze back on Hiro. ‘What about you?’ she asked, curling her lip slightly so the stud flashed silver. ‘You look like trouble. Are you up for some fun?’
Hiro shrugged, adopting his old sullen slouch. ‘Depends,’ he mumbled.
Storm dug in the hessian bag slung over her shoulder and fished out a biro. Stepping forward, she took Hiro’s arm, pushed up his sleeve, and wrote her number on his forearm. I frowned. Why was she giving Hiro her number? I was the one who had shown enthusiasm. Maybe she didn’t want to get biro on my shirt.
‘Hope to see you around,’ she said, and floated off, her minions shambling behind her at a respectful distance.
‘Yikes,’ said Hiro, watching them leave.
‘That was awesome!’ I said, pulling out my phone and snapping a picture of the number scrawled on Hiro’s arm. ‘They’re really doing stuff! And they want us to help!’
‘Help what?’ said Hiro. ‘Destroy people’s crops? I thought we were more about making things, not destroying them.’
‘But you saw how impressed she was with what we’ve done! Think how much more we’d be able to do if we were part of something bigger.’
Hiro shook his head. ‘I … I like it being just us. Our thing.’
‘But this is what we’ve been looking for,’ I continued. ‘A chance to really make a difference!’
‘What you’ve been looking for, maybe,’ said Hiro. ‘I never wanted to be part of some hippy commune.’
I left it at that and turned to the garden, helping some young bean plants trail up the chain-link fence. We worked in silence for a while, and I wasn’t sure whether it was companionable silence or whether Hiro was angry with me.
‘Astrid,’ he said finally, and his voice was serious. ‘I … I’m not always going to want to do the things you want to do. I’m not like you.’
I blinked. That seemed blindingly obvious to me. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘We’re different people. I understand.’
‘I don’t know if you do.’
I looked over at him. He was holding a punnet of eggplant seedlings in one hand and frowning. ‘Like, take uni for example. I assume you’re planning on going.’
What was he talking about? ‘Uni?’ I asked. ‘Of course I’ll go to uni. I think I’ll do law.’
Hiro turned the punnet upside down and gently tipped the contents into his hand. ‘Why?’
‘Because I can. I’ll get the marks, and then I can get work either in environmental law, or move into politics.’
‘But do you want to be a lawyer? Or a politician?’
I pulled off my gardening gloves and leaned back. ‘Not really. But that’s not the point. I have to figure out how I can best make a difference.’
‘You’ll never make a difference if you end up doing something you hate.’
‘Who says I’ll hate it?’
Hiro teased the tiny seedlings apart and tilted his head, gazing at me. ‘What would you do, if you could do anything in the world?’
I thought about it. ‘Do I have to choose just one thing?’
‘Pick as many as you like.’
I smiled. ‘Everything,’ I said. ‘I want to be the first Greens prime minister. I want to head up an environmental science project team. I want to invent a new kind of clean energy. I want to protect wetlands from developers, and fragile ecosystems from resource-hungry corporations. I want to be a primary school teacher and an urban planner and a journalist and an awareness-raising rock star.’
Hiro’s expression was strange. Sort of sad and proud and angry all at the same time.
‘I’m aware that the last one might not happen,’ I said. ‘But I’m pretty sure Dev will become a massive celebrity, so I could at least help him with what to say when he’s being interviewed.’
Hiro cupped one of the tiny seedlings in his palm, frowning at it.
‘How about you?’ I asked. ‘What would you do if you could do anything?’
‘Conductor,’ said Hiro.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Tram or orchestra?’
‘Orchestra, obviously.’
‘I didn’t know you were musical.’
‘I’m not. I like the idea of being an orchestra conductor. Like Bugs Bunny in that cartoon.’
‘Seriously, though,’ I said. ‘What will you do after high school?’
‘Travel, I guess,’ said Hiro. ‘Read, think. Try and find some meaningful work that won’t send me crazy.’
I suddenly realised why he’d asked me about uni. ‘You’re not going to uni, are you?’
Hiro shook his head.
‘Are you crazy?’ I asked. ‘You won’t even consider it?’
‘Nope,’ said Hiro. ‘I’ve spent the past eleven years hating institutionalised learning. I don’t want to do any more.’
I felt my forehead wrinkle into a frown. ‘But you’re smart. You could easily get into a good course if you applied yourself a little.’
‘Ugh, you sound like my mother.’
‘Well, she’s right,’ I said.
Hiro’s face clouded over. ‘Where do you want these eggplants to go?’
I wasn’t going to let him change the subject so easily. ‘Hiro,’ I said. ‘You’re amazing. You could do anything you wanted to.’
‘I know that,’ Hiro said. ‘That’s why I don’t want to go to university. I can do anything. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper. All it’ll get me is some tiresome office job where I’ll slowly die.’
My frown deepened. ‘That’s absurd,’ I said. ‘You can’t shut off the whole idea of going to uni just because you don’t want to be an accountant. That’s like saying you won’t ever visit a restaurant because you don’t like anchovies.’
‘I’m shutting off the whole idea of university because I don’t want it, okay? It’s not who I am.’
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ I said. ‘I think you’re afraid of failing. You’re afraid to admit that you want to go to uni, because then you might fail. But I can help you with your grades. I could tutor you.’
‘You know,’ said Hiro, looking hurt. ‘You can be a bit of a bitch, sometimes.’
I recoiled. ‘You think I’m a bitch?’
Hiro shrugged. ‘You expect everything will always go your way. You want people to be just like you.’
I didn’t respond. Why couldn’t Hiro see that I only wanted what was best for him?
Daytime seemed dreamlike and strange. I was exhausted from our nighttime adventures. The hot, bright light was harsh and seemed to wash everything out, as if I was living in an overexposed photograph. I missed the soft embrace of night, the intimacy of being in the Victory Garden, just me and Hiro, the only two people awake in Valentine.
‘Astrid?’ Dev peered at me. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Hmm?’ I looked at him. I couldn’t quite remember sitting down in form assembly, but here I was.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ I smiled.
‘Are you sure?’
His eyes flicked down to my hands and then back up to my face. I looked down. My hands were filthy – covered in dirt, the crescents of my nails crusted black.
‘Oh,’ I said. I’d forgotten to wash my hands when I got home after bewildering.
I must have also forgotten to shower.
‘Kitchen garden,’ I said to Dev. ‘I-I was there this morning. Before I came here. Forgot to wash my hands.’
Paige frowned. ‘You’re getting weird about this whole gardening thing,’ she said.
Dev nodded. ‘You’re putting the cult in cultivate.’
I hesitated. Should I tell them? I desperately wanted to. They were my best friends, and it had felt wrong hiding something this big from them. But I couldn’t tell them about Hiro. We’d agreed not to, and I knew they wouldn’t understand. But I could talk about the gardening without mentioning Hiro …
‘Okay, I’m going to tell you guys something, but you have to swear to keep it a secret.’
‘I’m sorry, have we not been best friends since we were four?’ said Dev. ‘Did I tell anyone about the thing that happened in Grade Two with you and the peanut butter?’
Paige cocked her head. ‘What thing with the peanut butter?’
Dev spread his hands. ‘See?’ he said. ‘I’m trustworthy.’
I took a deep breath. ‘You know all the gardening stuff?’ I asked. ‘The Invisible Garden Army?’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s me. I’m the one who’s been doing it.’
Dev and Paige exchanged a look.
‘Are you serious?’ asked Paige.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s been me all along.’
‘No,’ said Paige. ‘I meant – do you seriously think we didn’t already know that?’
I blinked. ‘You knew?’
Dev nodded towards my dirty hands. ‘It didn’t take a vast amount of deductive reasoning.’
I felt deflated. But at least now I could take some of the credit.
‘Are you doing it alone?’ asked Paige.
Why weren’t they more excited? ‘Um, yeah,’ I said. I wasn’t ready to come clean about Hiro yet.
‘Astrid!’ Dev shook his head. ‘That isn’t cool. You can’t go wandering about Valentine at night on your own. You’ll get stabbed. Or worse.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I’m perfectly safe.’
‘No, you’re not,’ said Paige. ‘This is not a nice suburb.’
I hesitated. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’m not doing it on my own. There’s … someone else.’
Paige’s eyes widened. ‘It’s a boy,’ she said. ‘That’s the only reason for you to try and hide it. You’re doing sneaky nighttime gardening with a boy. And sneaky other things!’
‘This is so romantic,’ said Dev. ‘Under cover of night, you’re sneaking around in the shadows with a mysterious crusader, beautifying Valentine with your love.’
‘Bewildering,’ I said. ‘It’s called bewildering, not beautifying.’
‘Even better. What’s he like? Is he handsome? Do you wear masks to conceal your identities? Do you have code names?’
I laughed. ‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not nearly that exciting, sorry. I mean, it is exciting. But there aren’t any special outfits or anything.’ I thought of the lobster costume. ‘Not anymore.’
‘So who is he? Does he go here?’
I felt myself colour, and remembered my deal with Hiro to keep our relationship a secret. ‘Um,’ I said. ‘No.’
Dev and Paige exchanged a glance. Could they tell I was lying?
After struggling to keep my eyes open through double English, I slipped out of maths in third period and went to the kitchen garden. I weeded around the lettuces and tied the growing tomato plants to bamboo stakes. The work was calming, and I breathed in the scent of earth deeply. It was more enlivening than any caffeinated product I’d ever consumed. I hoped things were okay with me and Hiro, after our weird conversation the previous night. He hadn’t texted me at all, but then I hadn’t texted him either.
I heard the gravel crunch behind me, and my heart leapt.
But it wasn’t Hiro. It was Mr Webber.
‘Shouldn’t you be in class, Astrid?’ He was frowning.
I looked at him and considered making up a lie about a free period, but decided I couldn’t be bothered. ‘I’ve got better things to do,’ I said.
The frown deepened. ‘Astrid, I’m worried about you.’
I blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You’re a good student,’ said Mr Webber. ‘You’re very driven and motivated. Your teachers all love you.’
Didn’t exactly sound like cause for concern.
‘So you understand we want to make sure you … stay on the right path. You have a great group of friends.’
‘Sir, is this about Hiro?’
Mr Webber looked disapprovingly at a slater crawling along the edge of one of the garden beds. ‘I admit that when I assigned him to do detention with you in the garden, I’d hoped you’d be a positive influence on him.’
‘We’ve been a positive influence on each other,’ I said. ‘He taught me a lot about gardening.’
Mr Webber didn’t seem impressed. ‘I’m also aware that there are … other activities going on. Outside of school. Some of them aren’t exactly legal.’
Did he know about the Victory Garden? About our bewildering? ‘What do you mean?’
Mr Webber shrugged. ‘Trespass. Graffiti. Vandalism.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘It’s not vandalism. Valentine has never looked better.’
‘But at what cost, Astrid?’ asked Mr Webber. ‘How has this affected your schoolwork? And your social life? And where does it end? It may seem like fun now, but these environmental campaigns can get nasty. Violent.’
I shook my head. As usual, Mr Webber had no idea what he was talking about.
‘You’d better get back to class,’ he said, narrowing his eyes. ‘Before I find you a detention slip.’
I met Hiro at Maria’s the following afternoon. We were taking more cuttings from her garden to propagate all over Valentine. We’d already had some success with lavender, rosemary and geraniums, and were now trying to grow cuttings from the olive and citrus trees. Things had been tense since our almost-fight, but we both avoided bringing it up, talking instead about our future bewildering plans.
Until.
‘I texted her,’ I told him.
‘Who?’
‘Storm. She says we should meet them on Friday evening in a park near the city.’
Hiro’s face drew together in all-too-familiar lines. He was shutting himself off again.
‘Please,’ I said. ‘Come on. We have to go once, just to see what it’s like. And if we don’t like it, we don’t have to go back.’
‘Why does everything have to be big?’ said Hiro. ‘Why isn’t this enough? You and me. We’re making a difference. We don’t need an army.’
‘Don’t you want more, though?’
Hiro shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is enough for me. You’re enough for me.’
I drew back. ‘That’s not fair,’ I said. ‘This isn’t about us.’
‘Isn’t it?’
