Coral Hull: Prose: Thirty Six Hours: Hothouse

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: THIRTY SIX HOURS
HOTHOUSE

Only One began to crackle and weep in his arms, as he strained to lift her from the truck. She clung weakly to the dog's mat. Bringing it with her as she was hauled away from her own special scent. She was frightened again, twisting smally in his arms. The sunlight made her eyes itch and sting. She was drying up on the inside. JESUS YOU STINK. I SHOULD HOSE YOU DOWN, the weekend conservationist said.

Ian placed her in his Hothouse, which was the closest thing he could find to her natural environment. She was rare and precious and would have to be preserved at all costs. She would have to be confined for educational purposes. He lay her to rest on the floor of the Hothouse, spraying a fine mist of spring water and organic fertilizer onto her skin, in hopes that she may become stronger.

Once on the floor of the Hothouse, Only One was able to crawl under a few drip-tip leaves to recuperate. Everything within her vision seemed miniature. The Hothouse forest felt closer and underdeveloped. It startled her - a ghost of an ecosystem. With its perfect plants and no snails, there was little life existing between the plastic sheets and trays. It was not the forest and this confused her. Ian's Hothouse was full of life that left her empty on the inside.

Ian conservationist wasted little time in modifying and adapting her. He performed minor operations, removing a fungus growth from her temple with a scalpel and plucking a fat green grub from inside her ear. The wildlife rescue course had taught him well. Now that the grub had been disposed of, he waited for the secrets, of which he might grasp from her. Mysteries of nature. He just hoped the neighbours wouldn't spot her and complain to the council.

Only One didn't make a sound. She stared morosely about the Hothouse beginning to catch her breath in short coughs. The Hothouse forest was a tomb. She was having intuitive difficulty with the structure, the presence of right angles and adjoining walls. She wished that she would somehow remember who she was, and break out of this coffin into light and air.

Ian felt uneasy. There appeared to be a whimpering from somewhere within him. It was true that the door to his hothouse was carved from Australian rainforest wood - and why shouldn't it be if it was still in demand? There were still plenty of forests covering the continent - he was only one man. Besides, he had to live in a house and without this structure his plants would die. He eyed the creature angrily.

SO WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? PROTEST OUTSIDE PARLIAMENT? CHAIN YOURSELF TO A TREE? YOU'VE BEEN IN THE FOREST TOO LONG BY THE LOOK OF YOU. JUST REMEMBER THAT YOU'RE NO BETTER OFF THAN ME.

Was she answering him? He didn't care. The air was still breathable. It was safer in here surrounded by the things that were precious to him. It suited him. He was half fearful of mysteries anyway and forests were full of them. It was good to be inside a Hothouse of his own making. Best to be secure on his own grounds first before venturing into the wilderness - before tackling that mysterious part of her.

YOU'RE NOT A GREENIE BY ANY CHANCE? Only One didn't understand. The question was strange and appeared to be asking things apart from the sounds themselves. Her skin turned a dark bark brown.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN DIRECT ACTION? SINKING WARSHIPS? TREE SPIKING? SABOTAGE MACHINERY? SUPERGLUE BUTCHER'S LOCKS? STEAL FROM SUPERMARKET BINS? TERRORISE THE CAPITALIST SYSTEM? WHAT ORGANISATION DO YOU BELONG TO? ARE YOU A FEMINIST? HOW CAN I LABEL YOU? ARE YOU AN ANARCHIST?

Ian became more angry. Who was she really? Did she follow Christianity? Did she want Land Rights? Was she a Buddhist? Was she onto something that he hadn't noticed? What did being the forest mean? Why did she defend the rights of trees? Why was she confusing him? What was that look she was giving him?

I'M AS NATURAL AS YOU ARE, he snapped. I'M NATURE. THIS HOTHOUSE IS NATURE. THIS WHOLE FUCKED UP SOCIETY IS NATURE. AND IF I FUCK UP THIS WORLD AND DROP THE BOMB - IF WE BLOW UP THE MOON, YES WE CAN FUCKING WELL DO AS WE PLEASE. BECAUSE WE ARE NATURE. NATURE IS A MYSTERY ALRIGHT. IT'S GOT ME FUCKED. MAKES ITSELF CIVILISED AND THEN DECIDES TO SUICIDE. LOOK IF I COULD SOMEHOW HELP I'D CHANGE INTO A FUCKING FOREST MYSELF.

Only One didn't respond. She listened. She became inwardly sad and confused in light of him. She turned a dark bark brown. She left him lost and alone again.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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