Darkness Blooms by Christopher Bloodworth Page B

“Something burned it.”
    That seemed to make more sense, but not enough sense for Sylvia. She walked over to the mound closest to the stairs and crouched down.
    The mounds weren’t burnt rags at all. Each was covered in dusky, black flowers. Hundreds of them, none larger than a quarter. Each bloom was twisted closed, shiny black veins crisscrossing the dull black petals.
    Sylvia had never seen anything like it.
    She stood and walked to the next mound, noticing that in the grassy space between each mound, a few single black blooms grew. Each of these singles again had its own perfect circle of soil between it and the surrounding grass.
    Sylvia shook her head as she stood and walked to the greenhouse.
    She’d never seen anything like it, but as she stepped up to the door of the greenhouse and reached her hand out to turn the handle, she realized that she had.
    In fifth grade, she’d done a science project on the effect that different hand soaps had on bacteria. She’d gone to her pediatrician and asked for agar slides. Papere paid for them and when they got home, the fun started. She went through a whole day without washing her hands, then she touched one of the agar slides. She then washed her hands with one of the selected soaps and touched another slide.
    They covered the slides and watched the bacteria grow on the surface. Perfect little circles of filth.
    That’s what the patches of black flowers reminded her of.
    When Sylvia turned around to look at them again, her stomach twisted.
    “That’s stupid,” she said under her breath, irritated that for a second she thought that she’d seen one of the blooms turn to face her. “Now you’re scared of wind?”
    Her eyes flicked across the 18 flower mounds, stomach still clenched even though she didn’t see any more movement. Letting out a sigh, she turned back to the greenhouse.
    Hopefully Mamere had watered some of Papere’s orchids and she could take a living piece of him home with her.
    Sylvia twisted the handle, pulled the door open, and screamed.

3
    She tried to back up, but tripped on something. Then she was falling. Falling and staring at the hulking man in the black trench coat, black hat, and what looked like an antique plague doctor mask that was black with a long, curved white beak. His arms spread wide to grab her.
    Sylvia kicked her feet, trying to get traction so she could run. Then she saw the man’s feet.
    Or rather, the lack of feet.
    It took her several shuddering breaths to calm down and quit trying to run.
    The man had no feet because it wasn’t a man at all. It was a scarecrow. The wooden post plainly in sight. The scarecrow didn’t even have hands. The coat sleeves just stopped.
    “First wind,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “Now a scarecrow. Nice. ”
    Sylvia got to her feet, brushed the dirt from her shorts and legs, and walked into a different greenhouse than the one she’d grown up with.
    The outside hadn’t changed a bit, but the contents inside had.
    Mounted beside the door, just inside was an elaborate metal box. Painted onto the outside of the box with white paint was a large, thick circle. Inside the circle, at the bottom were two white X’s, that were beside each other. At the top of the circle, still inside it though, were four vertical white lines, side by side. A horizontal white line bisected all four vertical lines.
    Sylvia thumbed open the catch at the top of the box and the front cover lowered itself on pneumatic hinges that hissed. Inside the box were all sorts of knobs and switches, all that same dull black color. Above each knob or switch was a symbol. There was a golden X with the upper right arm extending out farther than the others. Another symbol consisted of eight purple dots that formed a circle with a much larger purple dot at the center. Above another switch were two jade circles with solid black dots at the center.
    The symbols went on and on. Sylvia almost switched one on, but after following a tube