She watches him give Rose a flower, the one of her namesake, and huffs
and rolls her eyes.
Rose smiles dreamily, one hand resting on her large stomach, her palm
against the alien thing inside her that will kill her someday soon.
Greg's /gift./
She takes the wilting plant, thanking him, actually /thanking him/ and
then tilting her head to smell the thing.
Pearl can't imagine how Rose can stand the smell. The thing's been
dead for days now, and she can smell the decay from here.
A dead rose for Rose. It makes her lip curl into a snarl, and her eyes
sting.
She should have known from the moment they landed on this tiny planet
that it would bring them nothing but pain and misgivings. This whole
planet /reeks/ of death.
She still can't imagine why Rose loves Earth... Loves the
rose... Loves Greg. She can't begin to comprehend what might fascinate
her about these morbid things.
This whole planet smells of death! The hairless monkey's that inhabit
this little rock put their loved ones /into/ the earth to rot away
and be eaten by worms after they die. She can't imagine anything more
horrible.
/Into/ the dirt! They /become/ the dirt. They /become/ the Earth!
There is /nothing/ beneath her feet but death. She should have known
all along. She should have smelled it and /convinced/ Rose to leave!
Found a way! She should have know.
She pictures Rose, beneath the soil. Where she would have herself,
evidently. She pictures her eternal beauty faded and grey. She
pictures her stary eyes gone blank and cold and empty, her smile gone,
her hair in tatters, /surrounded/ by soil. /Surrounded/ by death.
It makes Pearl grind her teeth in a raggid sort of rage that she can't
begin to comprehend, even knowing that Rose will never be this planets
dirt. What small mercy. She watches Rose and Greg smile at each other,
watches them laugh as though nothing is happening. She can't imagine
how dark this little world will be once it's taken Rose.
Three months later and she's gone. But Pearls got this new little
creature, the thing that killed Rose. The thing that Rose died for.
Pearl thought she would hate it. She thought that it would /smell/
like death.
But it doesn't. It's this soft little bundle of flesh that won't stop
pooping, but it smells like Rose.
It's called Steven. That's the name Rose gave it before.
And it's running her ragged with all it's screaming and crying and
pooping. It refuses to eat, but if she doesn't feed it, it cries. It
refuses to sleep, but if she can't get it to sleep, it screams. It
refuses to respond to reasonable statements like "Steven, you must
sleep or you will die. Human beings need sleep to live." But it smells
like Rose.
And every time she's covered in the goop that baby humans eat, feeling
like giving up, the little thing looks up at her with Stary eyes and
smiles. She finds that when it smiles, it looks quite like Rose.
And she finds, that although it's not something Rose ever did, she
likes when the baby giggles and puts it's foot in it's mouth.
It's just such a ridiculous thing to do! Why, /possibly,/ would it
believe it's little foot belonged in there?
And it's several months later that she's walking near the beach with
baby Steven, showing him the places that his mom loved, when she sees
Greg from far off. She doesn't call out to him or approach him.
Reluctantly, she must admit, he has been a very big help with the baby
Steven. To use a human term, he has been a godsend. But that doesn't
means she's ready to forgive him, not by a long shot. Little Steven
recognizes him, even from so far away, and begins squirming happily to
get to him.
"No, Steven. We don't like Greg. Greg is a very irritating fellow who's
not good for babies. Babies need consistency. I /read/ that Steven.
In a book written by a... considerably reputable human."
Little Steven continues to wiggle, his little hand comes up and
presses against her cheek.
Pearl sighs. She hadn't planned on being such an indulgent parent. But
it isn't like she wasn't going to see him today anyway.
As she walks up behind Greg, she makes their presence known by
clearing her throat. "Hello /Gregory./" she says starchily.
"Oh!" he jumps. "Hi Pearl."
He looks down at the baby. "Hi Steven!" he beams. Steven makes an
assortment of happy nonsense sounds, reaching out towards the man, and
opening and closing his little hands.
"What are you doing." Pearl asks apathetically, if only to avoid
silence. Babies need constant stimulation.
"Oh... I'm... I was... Planting some... Roses." He stumbles, sounding
caught. Or maybe just reluctant to say her name. For Pearl's sake or
perhaps his own. After all, she had found him weeping several times in
the past few months.
She makes a noncommittal sound. Baby Steven gurgles and drools, so she
wipes his chin.
After a second of awkward staring, Greg turns back to his work.
Pearl reluctantly glances over his shoulder at the flowers. They do
admittedly smell alive. She feels a bit childish for expecting the
decaying smell of cut flowers.
It's a bit interesting. The smell changes with every second as new
cells burst into life. It's bright and new and sweet. Pearl watches as
Greg packs Earth around the plant, and Steven squirms happily,
reaching towards her face. For a second, Pearl feels something so
deeply that she can't comprehend it. She almost trembles as she clings
to Steven. It's not really quite tangible but for a second Earth
becomes more than just a place that Rose lived.
"Do you want to help?" Greg offers, noticing her wide eyed expression,
"You can help if you want to."
Pearl shakes her head, to clear it, more than anything. Then, feeling
embarrassed at being caught- caught by Greg no less- she replies with a
starchy "No."
And begins walking again.