53 Ganymede

Episode 18 - Reflections

The moonlight is bright enough to illuminate the twisting path ahead, but dim enough that the lush green foliage surrounding it is now nothing more than a vague mass of shadow. Here and there -- under the leaves of euonymus, Rose of Sharon, and hydrangeas -- pools of light burst from small, round fixtures installed in the earth. Claire smiles as she passes these little pockets of vibrant colour; she is thankful for the reminder that under all these shadows, there is nothing more than leaves and stems and blooms.

She walks slowly, enjoying the quiet exhilaration of being alone so late at night -- or early in the morning, really -- in a place typically reserved only for daytime forays. Occasionally she squints into the darkness and reaches for a carelessly discarded plastic cup or stray napkin left on one of the benches. Veena will do a more thorough check when she returns later in the morning -- Claire's real priority is the greenhouse.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs it waits for her, shining like a beacon in the night. Chateau De Verre glows with electric light, its innards exposed for all to see -- not that there is anyone else to see it, aside from Claire who is swelling with pride at having been gifted this opportunity. At having earned Veena's trust to do this on her own.

The poor woman had looked exhausted when Claire had walked her to her car -- it was already well after midnight and she would be back first thing in the morning to lead a tour for a group of horticulture students. Not to mention Claire knew she'd been helping her brother and sister-in-law with their twins most nights that week.

"You sure you feel comfortable on your own?" She'd asked, and when Claire had said yes she'd continued: "Just turn out the lights, reset the timers, and lock everything up. I can pick up the mess tomorrow morning..."

Claire was familiar enough with Veena and her stubbornness to roll her eyes. "I've got this. Go home and sleep!"

Even more than the bruise-like crescents under her eyes, Claire could read Veena's exhaustion in the way she simply nodded her head without a fight or even a stern glance.

"Just get home safely," she had sighed, slipping into the driver's seat.

"I'll call a taxi," Claire had promised.

"And text me when you get there!"

She had inhaled deeply, her chest rising as she stretched her arms out to the steering wheel, and then deflated with a resigned sigh.

Claire releases her own sigh now, entering through the main doors and surveying the disorder. Extra tables are spread throughout the entrance hall, chairs arranged in haphazard groupings alongside them. Disposable plates, cups, and napkins are strewn here and there, some with the odd morsel untouched or half-eaten still resting on them.

"I thought academics would be tidier," she mumbles, reaching for the closest table and beginning to collect the waste there.

She thinks back to the gaggle of men and women, well-dressed and ranging from her own age to well past her grandmother's. She had given many of them tours as they drank and reminisced, answering their occasional questions. Many had asked about the building -- its history, renovations, the watering systems -- which hardly surprised her given that they were hosting a reunion of the university Engineering faculty.

One man, at least, had seemed much more interested in the flowers and their care, and Claire had been thankful for a respite from the technical inquiries of his peers.

He was a tall man, almost regal in his bearing, looking always forward with his hands clasped behind his back. His hair was jet black, although Claire might have otherwise aged him near his fifties, and a shiny pink mass of scar tissue replaced the outermost part of his right eyebrow, trickling down his face to disappear behind his ear. Claire had very politely avoided looking too closely at this, though her eyes often flickered there of their own accord.