Writetober Day 20 (Sprout)

Day 20

Sprout

“Why do you put yourself through this?”  Elma stared at her husband as he dug into the meticulously crafted soil.

“Because I need to.”  His focus didn’t turn from the soil he dug holes into.

Elma continued to watch him work.  It had been nearly a decade since the world stopped bearing plants.  The scientists had said there were toxins in the soil, but that was dismissed as labs couldn’t even grow the smallest plants.  She wrinkled her face as she watched her husband hold hope for something that she gave up on long ago.

They were dying, not by some illness, but by a slow suffocation of life.  Elma couldn’t remember the last time she saw the color green in the desolate new world they lived in.  To be honest, she couldn’t remember the taste of vegetables, even the sweetest berries escaped her pallet and memories.  But it was pointless to dream about what was, unlike her husband, she needed to move on.

“You know they are just going to die before even sprouting.”  She raised a dirty bottle of water to her lips.  She had gotten used to the taste, though she wished she never needed to.

“I have to Elma…I need to.”  His hands gently tilled the soil to make way for the few seeds he held wrapped in moistened paper towels.

“Why?  To get defeated and let down?”  Her voice strained with slight annoyance.

“So?  I will deal with it and continue, like every time before”  His words were focused on anything but the conversation.

“You will deal with it?  Who do you think picks up the pieces after you pluck a rotted seed from that damned dirt!  I don’t give a damn about those seeds, but I do care about having to see you broken in disappointment every single time.”  Elma noticed her fists were clenched.  His hope had become infuriating.  

“It’s a price worth paying.”  He turned his shoulder to her as he began to place the seeds.

“Maybe for you, but there comes a time, John.”  She didn’t wait for a response, her feet carried her out of the small greenhouse.

“What do you want me to do?  Give up?”  The sun had set long before he entered their bare bedroom.

“I want you to move on.  We need to focus on so much more, it has been ten years  since anything grew on this hellscape.”  Her words were soft, but full of intent.

“I can’t…Someone needs to try.”

“Yes, but not you, you wear every lose so hard.”  She faced him with softness in her eyes.  “Let someone else do it.”

“Who else?”  His voice matched her tone as he changed into his pajamas.

She tried not to roll her eyes as he put on his favorite nightwear clothes.  Small indoor plants were printed all over his pants and shirt.  It was his prized possession, he wore it every night.

“They don’t care out there.  You hear it everytime we go to the market.  The “scientists” don’t care anymore.  Elma…we need these plants, we need….something.”

She worked her eyes over his face.  It was why she fell in love with him, his stubborn determination to do right was admirable, no matter how many times he faced defeat, he never changed.  “Fine.”  She didn’t want to fight.  “How many seeds are left?”

His face soured as he climbed into bed.  “That was the last batch.”

She didn’t respond, she simply held him close as the two dreamt of one day seeing the smallest green sprout in their greenhouse.

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