Of Phantasm and Fury

Sunny with a Smile

15 Sunny with a Smile

"...For something new is here at last..." -E.H. Hanson

Day 3

A waterfall, she thought, her bare toes stepping onto the glossy, glittering koa wood surface, surrounded by fern leaves thrice the size of her head. Philodendron monstera 'split leaf,' those were called. Her ankle brushed against a streaked stalk of silver lace fern as well as the familiar pungent dollar coin fronds of eucalyptus. Heart-shaped elephant ear plants adorned the right of the water source, its emerald edges giving way to a sweet damask pink center.

Upon second glance, she realized this was no waterfall. Rather, it was a manmade (or woman made?) shower head, artfully hidden amongst tree branches to provide a natural ambiance. In the foreground, she detected the outline of a familiar burnished brick building, perhaps appearing more modernized from the vantage point at which she was situated. Long slender Kimberly Queen fern dotted the walls, providing feathery shade against the pale, unyielding sky, along with its staid fraternal twin the Nephrolepsis falcata, sensible and true.

A sleek silver handle jutted from the shower's wall directly in front of her. As if on instinct, she moved to adjust the volume—turn off the jet—her hand moved the knob to the left—twice to the right—

But the water would not turn off.

Beginning to panic, she continued angling the object this way and that, wondering whether someone in some semblance of authority would cart her away—accuse her of whatever it was that made her very existence an aberration—a crime against nature—

Dorm, Palazzo, Siena, Italy, Simulation Crystal

She gasped for breath, voice shaking as her eyes sprang open. Palazzo. Not...wherever that was. You are safe. In the crystal. In the Palazzo.

"Everything alright?"

Macy gave a start, before noticing the seated figure at the rightmost of her bed. Antonio. "I—I think so?"

"You left to take a nap before afternoon lessons—I heard you toss and turn—I got worried—" he broke off, concern etched over his comely visage.

"I'm—" she swallowed hard. "I'm fine. Completely, absolutely fine," as she sat upright. "Where's our next lesson again?"

Hallway, Palazzo, Siena, Italy, Simulation Crystal

"Are you sure we're going in the right direction?" Macy asked, not for the first time, as the pair found themselves entering a winding tunnel-like corridor, surrounded every which way with transparent 1800s era glass plating that seemed to fit more in line with "Clue" the board game, otherwise known as "Cluedo" abroad. 'Do pass the blinis, Martin,' she imagined a polished, suited gentleman asking, one foot past the solarium's high-paneled threshold, his aquiline nose snottily upturned, fully expecting his every whim catered to—

"Yup," came the answer, interrupting her imagined conversational ponderings, as they continued onward. She noticed a cloud-filled, ambiguous spread of ether in the sky above, while she silently questioned where on earth the sunshine had gone, the brazen, bright vivacity of which welcomed her to this part of Italy one afternoon, not so very long ago.

Laboratorio in serra, Palazzo, Siena, Italy, Simulation Crystal

They squinted at the sign before them. Laboratorio in serra, according to the tiny brass plaque.

Greenhouse laboratory.

Pushing the door open, Macy gasped, taking in the bohemian chic chamber's exquisite tiled flooring, the picture window-to-skylight transparent gloss showcasing the austere outdoors, the turned-off adornment of string lights, and the myriad plants sprinkled about in heavy straw and plasticine containers.

All of a sudden, familiar lyrics entered her mind. "Sunny," by Bobby Hebb, if she wasn't mistaken, as the victrola from earlier somehow mysteriously reappeared in the greenhouse space before them, playing the very same tune.

Sunny, yesterday my life was filled with rain...

They slowly made their way forward to the bamboo wraparound table, two sleek honey-colored stools awaiting them, not to mention, a laptop for...Macy tilted her head, puzzled. Research? Reporting? It seemed almost minutes ago, the two had lamented their life's sorrows, each providing an empathetic ear. Ordinarily, she considered herself the most solitary of creatures, even with two younger sisters, preferring runs in Hilltowne's campus at 3 am, midnight snacks of apples with crunchy peanut butter, and showering at 4 am besides.

Sunny, you smiled at me and really eased the pain...

She never let anyone in. It was easier, she'd initially thought, than opening yourself up and ending up hurt in the process. But the incident with Harry happened. And Antonio came along to pick up the pieces, a most unexpected friend...and the rest, as one would say, was history...

"After you," Antonio was heard to say, as he beckoned her toward the seat closest to the laptop. And so she sat, as did he. Another couple of seconds passed before she noticed a manila folder icon on the computer screen. Open me, it read in prominent lettering. So she did, an intricate calligraphic PDF manual springing open as they read from top to bottom, instructions for extracting plant essence for specialized sequencing. A team-building exercise, if ever there was one.

Sunny, thank you for the truth you let me see...

"We're going to need..." Macy paused, mulling the fanciful text over in her mind. "Two pipettes," imagining a pair of plastic laboratory tools with chambers to hold and dispense liquid with efficiency and ease, "two canisters of pipette tips," to avoid cross-contamination, "mini plastic test tubes, and the main plant we're dealing with—" visualizing the Ceratopteris richardii, the C-Fern plant commonly used in academic settings for microbiology studies.

Antonio stared in wonder as each of the stated experimental ingredients began materializing, one after the other. "What's all this?"

Macy laughed. "Your first microbiology lesson. In Italy. If, of course, you're ok with that?" She threw him a sweet, innocent-eyed expression, almost pleadingly so.

"I'm in," he replied not a second later, barely suppressing a grin. This was the most excited he'd been in ages, not including his first foray back into music earlier the same day. Why do I feel weird? Antonio inquired of himself, reaching for a pipette.

Then he realized. I'm not feeling weird. I'm...happy. He had gone on so long, mourning the past and a life that had forever changed, that he hadn't realized what it was to be content with life's little wonders, even if it were a simulation of the most mystical sort, a botany laboratory in Siena, Italy of all fantastical places.

Sunny, thank you for the facts from A to Z...

Macy winced as she pierced a side of the C. Fern plant; even if it wasn't a breathing creature, she hated causing any measure of pain and sometimes wondered if plants themselves weren't entirely sentient themselves. Botany bioethics aside, she provided a quick demonstration on the correct use of pipettes and their clear plastic tips, before allowing Antonio to proceed with the plant serum extraction.

"Antonio, you're doing great!" she offered him welcome words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Macy." He almost called her "sis,"—as in "thanks, sis," but stopped himself at the last possible moment. Where had that come from? Perhaps it was the mentorship role she presently occupied; whatever it was, he felt as though he had known her—maybe in another life, another journey. However it came to pass, it no longer mattered. She was here, showing him the way. The way forward, out of mired grief. A promise of improved tomorrows. And he knew—and so did she—that 'better,' such days would be.

The whirrs and clicks of their pipettes echoed in the glass chamber where they found themselves, as the melody continued. Oh Harry, she thought to herself, remembering the second-to-last stanza's lyrics, reciting a snippet as if in prayerful plea, you're my spark of nature's fire...my sweet complete desire...

...Oh sweet Sunny—

...Oh, Harry—

I love you.