The Plastic Seed

by Maisie Porter

  “Has Bettina started that new mindful eating method that you taught her about?” I ask.

  “Last time I spoke to her she said it was going well. I don’t know if that’s front of her mind, she recently broke up with her boyfriend Steve. You can ask her about how she is faring with it whenever you see her next.”

  “She broke up with Steve? They seemed happy when we saw them together last, or was that Gary? Nevertheless, I just want Bettina to make sure Maia eats well when she is at her house.”

  “Evan, what do I always tell you? You need to let go sometimes. You will drive yourself and me mad, if you are constantly trying too hard to be mindful. It has to come naturally. There’s nothing mindful about it if you are trying to force it,” Carlana says, and I sense some irritation.

  “I am trying to learn how to live life purposefully, Carlana,”

  “Maybe you should just stick to the accounts, and leave the practical side to me.”

  “I will be in my office,” I say, ignoring her comment. “Now that you won’t be needing to pick up Maia, will you be staying at home the rest of the afternoon?” I ask.

  “Actually, I am going out. I am going to go for a swim, there is a new mindfulness swimming class at the pools in West Glassport.”

  “That’s a bit out of the way, isn’t it? And why are they doing mindfulness classes in that part of town?” I ask.

  Jean, 12:48PM

  I can answer my phone now as I am not sitting at a table any longer. I look at the number displayed and notice that is not Beth this time.

  “It’s Carlana,” a hushed voice says when I answer.

  I press my phone harder to my ear.

  “Carlana?” I repeat. “Sorry but I can hardly hear you, are you able to speak louder?” I say.

  She continues speaking in the same hushed voice.

  “Evan has asked me to call you, I talked him out of checking your references, and we have some paperwork for you to look at, I can’t email it to you because I don’t have your email address. I am going to be at the swimming pool doing laps, can you meet me there and I will have you sign the papers. Can you meet me at 1:50pm?”

  “Which swimming pool?” I ask loudly, hoping she raises the volume of her own voice.

  “Pardon?” she whispers.

  I suck in my breath and try not to feel irritation, but only for the sake of my new job. This woman just takes the calmness, quietness, peacefulness thing too far.

  “I am on my way home now, there’s an indoor pool just next to the train station at the Fun Tubes Water Park. Can we meet there, as I won’t be able to make it to another pool?”

  There’s a silence on the other end. Carlana repeats the pool name to herself.

  “OK, I don’t see why not. Be there at 1:50pm, message me when you arrive.”

  She does not wait for a goodbye.

  I ignore the uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomach, am I being naive thinking taking a job offer from someone I despise? But the job offer wasn’t from her, a small voice in my head whispers. You were in the right place at the right time, you deserve the luck.

  I dial Beth’s number as suddenly I need to know if Amy has arrived at my unit. The phone rings but there is no answer. The only thing I really want to do now is to see Amy. Maybe I can make it home and then go to the meeting at the pool.

  I look at the time. It’s 12:48pm. If I catch a train to the pool now, I should arrive at about 1:40pm. I notice that I only have a small percentage of my battery left. I won’t have a chance to speak to Beth again.

  Once I do get back home, I will have lots of time to spend with Amy, in between my paperwork and studying about mindfulness. To be on the safe side I will do a few more shifts, maybe just one, at the shoe shop before handing in my resignation. What a glorious day that will be, no more touching stinky feet and endless restocking of shoes on shelves for me.

  I turn back onto Miller Street, leading to the train station. This road is downhill, but because of its length, it will take me forever to get to the train station. It crosses my mind to turn back in the direction of Carlana’s house, I could just pick up the paperwork and head home. Ugh, either way, the pool is on the way home anyway, so I will simply stick to the plan that my new employer has requested. My new employer! This morning, I was toying with the idea of either killing her, or using her to achieve my plans, and it looks like the latter has worked.

  I look down at my feet and examine my shoes as I walk, they have thick soles, Velcro straps and swirly black lines leading in every direction. I got them out of the bin where the defective footwear is thrown at the shoe store. They seemed to fit, but now, after a day on my feet, they are rubbing my heels. I can’t wait to take them off at home.

  I take my phone out of my bag but now the battery has gone flat. I definitely have to get Amy to set up that new phone for me. With this old thing, the charge only lasts half a day.

  ***

  I walk up the steps to the train station sandwiched between two men wearing ill-fitted suits that stink of their all-day body odour, it wafts from them and rests on me. I wonder what they would think if they knew the lovely lady in bright clothes walking in between them was carrying a gun in her unassuming bag.

  Then the men in suits pick up their pace and overtake me. When I jump into the carriage, I notice happily that they aren’t in the same one as me. The rumble of the train and whistle drowns out the sound of my name being called.

  “Mum, Jean, Mum.” Am I imagining hearing Amy calling out my name? I take a step back towards the window. I press my face against it, peering out through the glass. Precisely as the door closes, I see Amy, as she runs down the stairs in the pink dress I gave her.

  Evan, 1:20PM

  I watch Carlana walk to her car, her swimming towel sticks out of her bag. She checks her phone before getting into her car, and I wonder what she is doing. We established a ‘do not look at your phone as soon as you leave the house’ rule, and now she is breaking it, not to mention that she definitely has been using her phone too much today.

  I suggested that we go for an enjoyable swim together, but she rushed to get out of the house after spending a moment locked in her room. She was adamant she needed time for herself, which of course is fine by me, time on your own helps one with becoming more mindful.

  I watch her as she backs the car out of the driveway. I had been hoping for some intimate time together, but I know that there is no chance of getting close to her when she is in a headspace like the one she was in this afternoon; going from being withdrawn to accusing me of not being on her level of mindfulness.

  With my administration work for both the recycling plant and our wellness business completed for today, I can allow myself some screen time. I debate whether I should watch Netflix or browse through social media on my phone. Neither of these mindless activities are beneficial, but I choose to spend time scrolling through the material on my phone. I pick it up from my sparsely-decorated desk and sit in my chair. I open my Instagram account and flick through the images. So that I don’t clutter my account with mindless photos, I only follow ten people. But I still manage to stare at an attractive fitness model eating an apple for fifteen minutes – much longer than I should. Before I put away my phone, I check my Instagram messages. I scroll through the messages, until one makes me pause mid-scroll. There is a photo attached with the message. We don’t typically receive pictures, but it’s not only that a person has sent us a photo, it’s who the photo is of that makes me freeze. Somebody under the profile name of @plantlove has sent us a picture of the woman that was just in our house. In the photo she’s sitting on a deck chair beside a loathsome, neglected pool. Seeing her face on my screen makes me forget her name. Why would I be seeing this woman on Instagram, in my messages? My stomach flops, and I quickly read the caption at the bottom of the message.

  ‘Alert to the Mindfulness Community…’

  I read that someone wants to steal our business secrets and notice my left hand grip
ping the armrest of the chair. Immediately, I dial Carlana’s number. My mind races, grateful that I haven’t given this woman any information about our business, yet. How could I have been so naïve, nearly hiring this woman? It’s all Carlana’s fault. She brought her here, without adequately checking who she was.

  No, I can’t, I must not blame Carlana. She must have been misled. I should have taken Hazel’s number. It was Hazel who recommended this woman. Now I can’t find Hazel’s number, or her husband’s either. Why did Carlana talk me out of checking that reference? Maybe this woman targeted Carlana, had her in her sights? Obviously, she must have known who Carlana was. What is Carlana going to think about this? I am curious about how Carlana will act, when she finds out about this hoax. I am eager to find out how to deal with this mindfully. That conniving woman mentioned that she was neighbours with an employee that worked at my plant. Maybe I could get my staff to identify her? No. You are overreacting, Evan, I tell myself.

  Why isn’t Carlana answering her phone? I know she has Bluetooth connected in her car, but maybe it’s best not to upset her while she is driving. That woman gave me her number, so I can call her and demand an explanation. I take out the number from my drawer and dial it, ready to unleash my anger on her. It rings, but it doesn’t even go to a voice mailbox. I don’t like that. How inefficient of her, not bothering to set up a voicemail for herself. And I was going to give her a job.

  I look again at the warning to see who originally posted it. @Plantlove – at least that name does sound like it might be someone from our community, but they don’t have the red tick next to their name as all licensed wellness practitioners do. Yet they must know something about this rogue wellness blogger. I send them a direct message:

  ‘Hi @Plantlove,

  The woman from your post was at my house earlier today. She left some time ago. She was posing as a nanny looking for a job. Reading what you wrote has made me furious. I know now that she was just trying to steal my wife’s business knowledge. How can we stop her from approaching her next victim?’

  I receive a message back immediately:

  ‘What is your address?’

  I re-read the unusual question from @Plantlove.

  Believing that answering this question will help get me out of this predicament and maybe get some of my questions answered, I quickly type a response without considering it too much and hit return.

  ‘53 Hummingbird Street, Butter-River.’

  What is wrong with me today?

  My phone rings just as I am about to send another message, as I don’t want this person to come here. ‘As I said, you won’t find her here.’

  Frazzled, I answer the call.

  “Evan, hi, it’s Bettina, I have tried calling Carlana, but she isn’t answering. She called me earlier today asking if I could pick Maia up from school. I told her that I could, but now I have remembered Haydee has a dentist appointment after school. Can you please let Carlana know I won’t be able to take Maia with me?” I struggle to refocus my mind from the suspicious text messages, to Bettina’s voice telling me something about school pick up and Carlana calling her…

  “Wait, she called you, you didn’t call first, are you sure?” I ask.

  “Yes, she phoned me, I’m sure.”

  “Carlana is not home, I can’t get hold of her either,” I reply.

  “Well, I daresay I will see you at school pick up then,” Bettina chirps.

  My usually clear mind starts to be filled with a barrage of thoughts.

  Carlana must have seen the Instagram post that I’ve just seen about the bogus blogger, Maybe she has gone to confront her?

  I hang up the phone and text a message back to @Plantlove.

  ‘I think my wife may be in danger, do you have any information about that woman’s latest whereabouts?’

  I read the reply.

  ‘The woman isn’t dangerous – your wife is.’

  Amy, 1:45PM

  I watch the train door close, and I feel relief that I have found her. My mum is on the train, travelling away from me, but I can see her. She is safe and it looks like she is on her way home.

  After I had seen a missed call from Mum on Beth’s phone, which was tangled up in her overalls on the floor, I saw the reply Evan sent Beth. The initial message had suggested that Mum wanted to attempt to steal his wife’s business ideas. I was confused that what he wrote back had no mention of blackmail or photos. Maybe we had successfully intercepted the meeting in time, and put Mum off the rest of her plan? I thought that it was slightly naïve of Evan to give a stranger his address, but I guess that he had already interacted with Mum and that could cause anyone confusion.

  I rang Mum again, but she didn’t answer. I hoped that I hadn’t missed her last call for help. Once I had looked up Evan and Carlana’s address, I raced to the train station to catch a train to Butter-River. As I ran, I read the message about his wife being in danger. It annoyed me that he considered Mum as someone threatening; therefore, I couldn’t help but reply that it was his wife that was dangerous. There was that letter Mum had left behind, it implied, in a roundabout way, that she might harm someone, but Mum wouldn’t, she is a sweet lady. I know that and Beth said so, too.

  Beth’s strategy had worked. She isn’t just gorgeous, she is smart as well, and very kind as she let me take her phone. I came to search for Mum in Butter-River and I have found her. This disruption is all over. I can take the next train back to Beth’s, I mean Mum’s.

  I walk down the stairs to the platform. It is peak hour and there are a few businessmen that pretend they aren’t looking, but I am sensitive to everything that happens around me, and I can feel their beady eyes on me.

  The next train comes promptly, and I still hope that I can catch up Mum before she commences her walk back to the unit. I want her to fill me in on what she knows about Beth; I am so keen to find out more about her. West Glassport is four train stops away, four stops away from the three of us enjoying a beer and having a laugh over this misunderstanding.

  The overburdened carriage is carrying bored commuters, who are travelling further than me to their houses in the suburbs. The only time they would bother to visit West Glassport is when they bring their kids here to the water park in the summer or recently during the warm winters. Whichever season they visited in, they probably wouldn’t dare venture out further than the park. Their loss, they will never have a chance to meet people like Beth.

  No other passengers alight from the train as the same stop as me. As soon as I step out of the carriage, I search for Mum. I am certain that she saw me as the train pulled away. She should know I will be on the next train. There is a possibility she is waiting for me, but a quick glimpse around the station tells me it is empty. Mum is definitely not on the platform. I walk up the steps out of the train station and stand in front of the water park for the third time today. I look up the road to see if Mum is walking along it towards home. There is no indication of her walking up the street.

  A car drives past me and slows to a halt in the parking zone in front of the pool. The lady driving the car turns off her engine and glances at me. Her features are familiar. I can feel myself gawking, a bad habit I picked up in jail. I look away and pretend to watch down the road again. As she is getting out of her car, I fix my eyes back on her. She’s wearing a navy blue, loose-fitting dress and carries a bag on her shoulder. Everything about her makes me want to continue observing her, because she seems familiar. But where have I seen her before? I think that she may have been a teacher from school, because she has that conservative look.

  This woman is not attractive to me but the way she holds her chin up high fascinates me. She saunters as if she is carefully planning where to place her next step, but at the same time, it seems effortless to her. I take my eyes away from the woman; she intrigues me but I need to keep looking for Mum, damn Mum. My first day out of jail and I encounter all these amazing women, and she keeps pulling me away from them.

  Jean, 1
:50PM

  The walk past this pool has been the fondest part of my struggle of a life, soon to be a distant memory. I walk past the water park on my way to the shoe store, where people wait for me to give them exactly this shoe, but with a higher heel. I imagine how my day would be much nicer if I could just turn into the park, walk under the neon sign, and float my day away on a buoyant raft.

  The water rides are not operating this afternoon, they close early in winter, though the indoor pool that Carlana instructed me to meet her at is open. But I am surprised to see that there is still access to the water rides section, there isn’t a gate separating the park and the pool. If you fancy a walk around the grounds, any visitor is free to do so. I wonder how long until a hooligan or a well-known wellness expert is found floating face down in the pool, which results in the pool area being closed off.

  I look at my watch, 1:50pm. I walk into the entrance to the pool, past the cashier who looks busy listening to questions from a mum. He doesn’t notice as I slip into the area with the lap pool. I stand at the end of the pool and search the lanes to see if Carlana is already swimming. Spinning around in frustration when I don’t see her, this is when I spot both of them.

  Amy. Again, she is far away from me. She is standing outside the train station, her arms folded across her chest, she turns her head momentarily to the side, and she watches as Carlana gets out of her car.

  Carlana. She is between us now, like she always has been, impeding our lives, interrupting. I watch her as she walks, slow steps. I look at Amy, her face is bloated, her hair in a short-cut crop. Why won’t she grow her hair long again?

  Carlana is walking towards me, Amy is walking away. I know now what the solution is. I don’t need Carlana to give me a position, experience or collateral. What I need is for Carlana to be permanently removed from our lives. I will never get Amy back, if Carlana is always in our way.