Io arranges flowers.
MOTE prompt
There were one hundred and twenty lyriks in the Helioshad State Labor Facility, with twenty girls in each lyrik. Lyrik seventy-one was in the White Four building on Quadrangle Rose, and its windows were tall sheet-glass. The cabinets were low enough for all of the girls to reach into, with materials to practice with: to practice sorting, to practice knots, to practice cleaning, to practice listening to tones, to practice cleaning. Cards to practice learning animals. Bowls of shells to arrange, different beads to thread. The teacher lived in the staff dormitory at the side of White Four; the teaching assistants, who were indentured, had their own room in the lyrik and were always with the children. The children rolled out sleeping mats on the classroom floor every night and had tiny pillows, and wore pastel tunics. They were all one thousand three hundred and eighty-one days old, and they were all good sisters together.
They did not look much alike, except for two, who were a special paired order, Gemma Prime and Gemma Secunda, but they acted much alike. Solemn eyes, patient movements, close listeners. It was late summer, and the sun slanted across the campus, turning the grass green-gold and a-glint with butterflies. The girls were working on their flower arranging after early afternoon reading lessons …
Ĝemsa said, “Look, look.
I see a big yellow ground-car.
See the yellow ground-car go.”
Sara said, “I see it.
I see the big yellow ground-car.
I want to go away in it.
I want to go away, away.”
They selected their flowers, and the teacher told them what looked best, and smelled best, and what the flowers meant. “Amaryllis is strength, beauty, love. What does it pair with, Chryseis?”
“Paperwhites, Miss.”
“Very good, Chryseis. And what do paperwhites symbolize, Io?”
“Hope and faithfulness, Miss.”
“Very good, Io.—All right, the girl who makes the nicest arrangement today gets to play with the dollhouse first, all right? And she may find something in it she likes.”
Twenty pairs of eyes swiveled to the dollhouse on the corridor wall, but their faces remained steady, for so they were taught and so they were made, and they went back to their flower-work, arranging as best they could with their clumsy, childish fingers. The teacher and the assistants walked up and down, nodding and smiling and giving advice if they thought it was needed, and after the half-hour was gone, Miss clapped her hands and said, “Let us see!”
She went from one girl to the next, and asked questions.
“So, Io, what is yours?”
Io pointed. “Par’dise bird,” she said. “Orange. Freedom. Iris, purple. Hope. Also one of my friends is Iris.”
A girl across the room squeaked.
“Delph’ni’m. That’s blue, and graceful. And jasmine, that’s white for love.”
“Very nice, Io. What does it all mean together?”
The little girl paused, and looked up at her with black eyes. “It all means wanting to go somewhere new, far away, with someone you love.”
The teacher cocked her head and studied Io. “Oh?”
“Like reading lesson,” the little girl said. “I see the big yellow ground-car. I want to go away in it. Away, away.”
“I see, Io,” her teacher said slowly. “Very nice. How about you, Ĉantalo?”
But in the end, she decided Io’s was nicest that day, and Io got to play with the dollhouse first, arranging all the furniture and the serving girls and the Sir and the Miss, and she found the serving girl doll who was dark like her, and she put her facing out the window.
The dollhouse contained a little surprise, a bowl of sugared nut meats, and the teacher and the assistants watched to see what she would do. There were twenty pieces, and she could have eaten them all, but she was very proper and instead walked to each of the girls, who were all good sisters together, and they each had one piece.
The teacher put that in the notes but hesitated and then did not explain what Io wanted her arrangement to mean. Sometimes the girls said silly things, and she did not want it to be trouble for Io, later.
This week’s prompt challenge was from Padre: “The dollhouse contained a little surprise.” My prompt went to Becky Jones. See all the challenges and responses over at More Odds Than Ends!