Lynda and Dr. Cress boarded the elevator and they descended together to the basement. They passed a white, sterile lab and entered a dull meeting space with a traditional clock on its beige wall, a long wooden table, and stackable chairs with burgundy fabric seats. Dr. Cress told Lynda to have a sit down and she would be back in just a moment. There was a funny-looking air freshener in a wall outlet, but its odor was unusual and more reminiscent of chemicals than the more common lavender and vanilla.
Many minutes passed, but Lynda had stopped watching the clock. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt something akin to homesickness. She crossed her arms on the table, rested her head between them, and fell asleep.
Unwilling to stray while Lynda was still inside, Clyde and Carol sat on the curb under a birch tree in the parking lot. Carol occasionally broke the silence with chatter about feral budgerigar while Clyde picked at and uncurled an immature ostrich fern’s leaf stalk. After fifteen minutes of this Clyde went back up to the building, but was alarmed to find the door locked. He knocked, but nobody heard. Carol went around back and tried going in through the bathroom window, but it couldn’t be opened more than a crack.
They heard the front door open and close and went to investigate. It was the secretary leaving for home. She noticed the two hadn’t left and approached them, a concerned expression on her face, “You’re still waiting out here?”
“Um, yeah,” said Clyde as he scratched the back of his head.
“Do you know what’s going on in there?” Carol asked while shuffling a foot over a small tuft of grass that was growing out of the cement.
“Penny took the young lady down to see the lab, I think. You two are her friends?”
“Yeah, Carol is. I’m her brother. Why is she showing her the lab?”
“I was told she had been writing to Dr. Cress expressing her interest in a similar field. She was so impressed with her enthusiasm that she permitted her a tour. If you would like, I’ll let you into the lobby so you don’t have to wait outside.”
Clyde and Carol thanked the woman for her help as she let them back inside. As she drove away they stood quietly together, looking to each other in utter confusion. “I don’t think everyone here is being told the same story,” Says Carol as she folds her arms.
Without wasting time the two of them got into the elevator and descended to the basement. No lights were on but the one in the room where Lynda was left. Clyde was first to go in and shook his sister awake. “What’s going on?” he asked in a worried tone.
“I dunno. She said she’d be back soon.”
“What? You were just abandoned?” Carol asked while helping Lynda up.
Lynda looked around the dark rooms, her mind clearing as she got up to look around. “She left?!”
Sure enough, no cars were left in the parking lot. Lynda groaned, “What did we even come here for?”
On the next day Dr. Penny Cress and her investors sat in the very meeting space where Lynda fell asleep. “Was the formula successful?” Asked a pasty, balding man in an expensive suit.
“I took a sample from the subject after treating her with the application. From that sample I can tell you the process has absolutely sped. She will return to a full vegetative state in days.”
“How are the first waves of our unique crops faring?” Asked a man with a fluffy brown beard, himself wearing a suit expensive as the balding man’s.
“They are growing exceptionally fast, large, and strong. Exactly like the specimens in the lab. Once the new formula is on the market as an “herbicide” we won’t be having any more advanced specimens.”
“Indeed. It wouldn’t exactly be good for business if word got out that the brussels sprouts on their tables were once thinking, sentient beings,” said the balding investor.
“Parents have enough trouble getting their children to eat their vegetables!” laughed the bearded investor.
“Of course, you only have to slap the phrase ‘farm fresh’ on a carton of milk or eggs for people to forget about veal and battery cages, but we will try not to let things come to that.”
“I’m uncertain if those tactics would work if consumers knew their cabbage could grow into a full human being, but that’s assuming anyone in their right mind would believe such a thing.”
“Well, let us have a toast to my late father,” Dr. Cress says while uncorking a bottle of champagne, “and his brilliant discovery!”
Rats and Hats 