Flexible Thinking for a Modern Life: Chapter 22
Added 2020-10-31 03:33:28 +0000 UTCSummary: A commission series for Alfalfa. Iris Fleurs, the stretchy daughter of a slime mother and a human father, tries to live her best life and feel comfortable in her own skin. Teenage rebellion ensues.
CHAPTER 22
"Now, most newlyweds have an eye for the purest whites, but it's exceedingly difficult to pair it with the right skin tone. For your budget, I think a more muted ivory would stoke feelings of tradition and nostalgia, and it'll compliment the look you're going for..."
Fall was one of the less traditional seasons to hold a wedding, but some customers were drawn to the romantic allure of the changing leaves. Celes was in the middle of dealing with a client, a prospective newlywed, curiously looking over a few sample dresses.
"Mmmm... that makes sense, but... all my girlfriends say true white is the way to go." The woman frowned, clearly vexed by the options before her.
Celes put on her best service-industry smile, hurrying over to another dress. "Perhaps a champagne would be more your style? It's the height of effortless sophistication!"
"Mmmm I'll try the pure white." The newlywed nodded. She sounded sure of herself.
"I'm sure it'll look gorgeous on you." Celes conceded with a beleaguered smile.
Celes sighed inwardly, silently reminding herself that this singular moment was everything she was working towards for her whole life. To establish a boutique she could call her own, to share her creations with the world, and to make a name for herself. Even despite her genetic deformity.
She never imagined the clothing boutique that she opened—Chical—would reach the popularity that it did. It was always a modest affair, but with support from the community that genuinely loved her craft, and a family that stood by her all the way, Celes had finally realized what was once a bold, ambitious dream.
There was a lot she didn't imagine would come to pass, growing up as she did. She didn't think she'd be the breadwinner; she didn't assume she'd be wearing the pants in the family either, glancing down to her business suit. She casually massaged the material between her fingers.
She'd have to do her best for her family. If she did her job properly, she could go home and try to talk some sense into Iris. For now, she had to focus on work...
Ring ring! Ring ring!
"Oh, the phone." Celes muttered. Her client was already in the changing room, so Celes had a moment to take it. She hurried over to the phone.
"Chical Boutique and Textiles, Celes speaking, how can I help-"
"Celes? It's Sier."
"Oh, Sier! You don't usually call me at work, is everything okay?" Celes toyed with the phone cable. "You're still picking up Iris from school, right? School's almost over, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I'm calling about Iris." Sier replied.
"...Ohhh dear..." Celes muttered. "Did she get in trouble at school again?"
"Not exactly. It's... wait, you didn't hear?" Sier questioned her. "They're talking about it on the radio."
"Th, the radio...?" Celes blinked. "I don't usually play the radio at work, but... o-oh goddess, what did she do to end up on the radio!?"
"You should probably tune in." Sier advised.
"A-actually, wait, you're picking her up, right??" Celes really was working herself into a tizzy now. "Put her on the line, I want to hear her explanation-"
"Celes. The radio." Sier urged her, a little more insistently.
"...O... okay... I'm doing it right now." Celes took a measured breath, reaching under the counter for a small radio. She tuned into one of the local news stations. The radio crackled to life...
...Local MPPs are being made to answer for lax regulations in domestic gas piping that, evidently, led to today's catastrophe, when an apartment high rise rose up in flame following a gas explosion. A masked vigilante that witnesses describe as having "powers of elasticity" was on the scene, and is credited with spearheading a successful rescue of the apartment's sole occupant and his pets. While the identity of this unlikely hero is a source of speculation, more listeners are interested in answers from the government...
Celes' eyes widened as she followed the chattering news heads go at it. Her jaw dropped.
"...It couldn't be... Iris??" Celes muttered to herself, utterly gobsmacked.
"I dunno who else it could be." Sier sighed. "She's not at school either. I waited outside. Never saw her."
"But... the police, they... they're gonna put two-and-two together, right?? What if they press charges? Vigilantism is-"
"I don't know. I doubt they're not gonna go after someone who was just trying to help." Sier interrupted Celes' worrying train of thought. "Especially not a high schooler."
"Nn..." Celes croaked silently, lowering her head. "Do... do you know where she is?"
"Not yet. I'm about to look around town. Agnes is pretty big..." Sier sighed. "I dunno how much luck I'll have; she's not dumb, she'll know to avoid me if she's still upset."
"Yes... you know how she gets. She always had a penchant for getting into places she wasn't supposed to be..." Celes was getting choked up thinking about it. "My little baby..."
"Celes, stay with me, okay honey? It'll be alright." Sier reassured her. "I'll call you as soon as I find her."
"I just want us to be a family again, Sier...!" Celes hunched over the countertop, covering her face. "I, I can't handle the idea of my little sweetheart getting herself into danger!"
"C-Celes!" Sier called out from the other end. "We have to stay calm! If I can't find Iris right away, I'll file a report with the police. But I need you at home in case Iris comes home, okay?"
"...Okay..." Celes sniffed harshly. "I can do that..."
"Thank you. I'm hitting the road now. I'll call you if I find anything." Sier repeated. "I love you."
"I love you too... I love you so, so much..." Celes rubbed her face. "I'll... I'll hold down the fort, so don't... don't worry about me."
"I'll bring home takeout. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" Sier cautioned her carefully. "How does pizza sound?"
"Pizza's fine." Celes smiled slightly. "I still got a job to do... I'll pull myself together."
"I know you will. I gotta get going. See you tonight." Sier got ready to hang up.
"Okay. I love you..." Celes cooed. With an emphatic click! on the other side of the line, Celes lowered the phone. Her body sagged slightly; dread and guilt weighed heavily on her mind. She silently listened to the radio droning on and on.
As Celes listened to the voices on the radio discussing the day's events at length, her mind wandered. It really sounded like a terrifying situation, but Celes listened to more of the eyewitness reports. About how Iris was able to take charge, and act so nobody was badly hurt.
"...My baby girl's... some kind of hero, huh?" Celes tilted her head. She quietly muttered to herself.
"...Please come home."
---
Iris had mixed feelings about her latest assignment. She hoped it would be the last major undertaking of breaking and entering. She brought her costume, just in case someone spotted her.
She was more familiar with the Fleurs Greenhouse than the department store she infiltrated prior, for obvious reasons. Her father made a point of taking her around to see the flowers when she was a little sprout. Iris was rather emotionally detached from her father's enthusiasm about the flora. It was altogether a very pretty place to spend a day, she had to admit, but her father would routinely get distracted from the tour to gawk at whatever curious insects buzzed, fluttered, or skittered on by.
Of course, her father recounted the troubled history of the greenhouse to some length. It had been run by several generations of the Fleurs lineage. It had started with her great grandfather—Sier's grandfather—and it remained a cultural institution of Agnes for decades now. It even resisted the industrial encroachment of the nearby manufacturing sectors, though there were a few leery points where the greenhouse's future was uncertain.
Her father made a point of impressing the importance of the greenhouse to the family, its natural beauty. It was the summation of everything the Fleurs had worked towards. It was even where her mom and dad shared their first day. So Iris knew it was an important place to the family.
That's why Iris wanted to be careful about her approach, not rouse any suspicion, and—with the exception of one key item—leave the place just as she found it.
Iris waited until nighttime to make her move. She assumed her father wouldn't be around at such a late hour. There'd be fewer gawking eyes as well in the dead of night. There wasn't any security to speak of. All the entrances were padlocked.
Iris thought about swinging home to steal the key and let herself in. But she still didn't want to run into her parents on accident. They probably figured out a while ago that she skipped out on school. Her father was supposed to pick her up too; they'd be on the lookout.
No, Iris had a more hands-on solution in mind...
"Rrgh... come off, you stupid thing!"
Iris cursed under her breath, wedging two of her fingers into the keyhole at the bottom of the padlock. The formless mass of her fingers casually slithered inside, allowing her access to the padlock's inner workings, but that was the easy part; actually fiddling out the mechanisms to unlatch it entirely was proving to be more of a big brain task than she bargained for. Especially considering she was going in blind.
Hunched over in the dark, she had half a mind to tear the annoying thing right off the door. But she reined herself in, and refocused her efforts. Even if this annoying task was taking much too long for her liking. The feeling of the tightly-wounded gears and springs inside of the lock pressed against her malleable form, resisting her efforts to overpower the mechanisms inside.
She rattled it over and over in her hands, grunting each time. If she tugged too hard, she'd probably knock something loose and break the lock entirely.
Iris huffed a self-chastising sigh; she used to be so good at getting into things when she was a kid. Her parents were so fatigued by her tenacity that they just stopped getting locks altogether. Did Iris let herself fall out of practice that hard?
Click. Iris' eyes widened. She felt like she was onto something? She wiggled her fingers with anticipation...
The mechanism unlatched, and plopped onto the ground. Success! Iris tossed the opened lock aside and let herself in.
"Just the zinnia. This'll be easy." Iris muttered to herself.
She looked around inside. The greenhouse looked even bigger on the inside. Flower groves of all kinds of breeds, colours and specimens lined the walls, and enough trees towered upwards to populate a small forest. The tinted glass windows offered Iris security in infiltrating the facility; her eyes drifted upwards towards the ceiling, examining the elaborate watering system installed overhead.
She lowered her head, settling on a picturesque water fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. At this hour, the water flow was turned off, and in the blackness of night, it definitely wasn't as beautiful as it could've been. Still, the silhouette of the fountain gave Iris brief pause. She briefly recalled a story her father told her about how the fountain was installed as a gift to her great grandfather. It was where her parents confessed their affection for one another in turn.
It was a place where wishes came true. A spot for romantics to be intimate, and become closer to one another.
"...Tch." Iris clicked her tongue, stopping herself from getting too sentimental. The zinnia wasn't going to be kept out in the open like this. She knew her father kept it in his office. She looked past the fountain, over to an iron stairwell that ascended to an outcropped room.
Lashing her arm out like a whip, she wrapped it around a bar near the top of the stairwell, just outside the door she was looking for. With a quick tug to confirm it was taut, Iris retracted her arm, pulling her body upwards and upwards. In mere seconds, she scaled a stairwell without breaking a sweat.
With a cursory twist of the doorknob, Iris found the office door locked in turn. She knew this one wouldn't be as annoying as the padlock outside. The space between the door frame and the door itself was narrow, but not too narrow for Iris' pliant fingers. Pressing against that space, her fingers flattened and slipped through. With some finagling, she was able to undo the door's lock from the inside... on the outside.
The door creaked open. Iris waved her wrist nonchalantly, stepping forward to look around. It seemed like a pretty typical office: there were filing cabinets along the far wall, a mahogany desk dominating the center of the room. Sier's personal space certainly had his mark of eccentricity; pinned specimens of bugs from around the world lined the walls, each framed and assigned their scientific names.
And, atop his mahogany desk, a potted yellow zinnia plant sat by its lonesome. The only plant in the office, it brought a splash of vibrant colour to the understated office. Iris' eyes narrowed, and she hurried over to look it over.
"There it is." Iris cradled the pot, looking it over from all angles. It was a healthy looking plate. It was carefully attended to, and the soil looked healthy too. The soil was a touch dry though; it didn't look like it had been watered in a bit.
"...Did it not get watered today?" Iris wondered. She glanced to a watering can at the foot of the desk, and gave the plant a top up. As she went about her idle task, her eyes wandered, falling onto another curious item right next to the potted zinnia.
A framed family photo. It must've been taken about five years ago. Iris was a long younger back then. Looking over it, a pang of nostalgia hit Iris.
"I used to have a hell of an overbite..." Celes grinned wryly. Her eyes lowered; the smiles on her parents were so genuine. It's been a while since she'd seem them smile like that.
...It's been a while since Iris smiled like that. Those were better times.
Kachink! Creeeak...
"Ah!" Iris' eyes rose sharply. In the total silence of the greenhouse, she could hear a lock unlatching, followed shortly by the loud creaking of a door. The front door. It was opening. Someone was coming.
Iris' frazzled mind could jump to but one conclusion: her father was in the greenhouse.
Iris knew she would have to beat a hasty retreat. Clutching the zinnia, she bolted out of the office...
Clang! Clang! Clang...
Everything went bright all of a sudden; Iris shielded her eyes and waited a moment for them to adjust. Of course, her father would turn on the lights. There'd be fewer places to hide with the greenhouse's bright lighting. She groaned, glancing down to the potted zinnia. Leering over the side of the railing, she weighed her options. Would such a delicate thing even survive a quick drop to ground level?
But she'd make too much of a commotion going down the steps one by one. Her arm whipped out again, wrapping around the railing. Holding the potted plant close, she straddled down the side of the stairwell as quickly as she could manage. In the corner of her eye, she followed the length that her arm stretched.
This would be easy. He usually wandered around the greenhouse to tend to the plants, so if she just slipped out the back and locked the door on her way out, it'd be like she was never here. But she had to be quick, or her father would...
"...What? Who's there?"
Iris didn't even reach the ground before she was spotted. She grimaced, turning her head. Iris was spotted—and by her father, of all people.
"..." Iris didn't say a word, even as she was cradling the potted zinnia. She backed up a pace.
"...Iris?" Sier muttered, astonished at Iris' appearance. "Wh, what are you wearing? And what... why are you carrying Grandpa's zinnia?"
"Ah!" Iris gasped silently. The disguise was no good! How did her father recognize her!? What good is a disguise if it doesn't fool anyone!? Iris backed up several more paces.
Sier recognized Iris' hesitance, and stepped forward in turn.
"Iris, please, just stay put, okay?" Sier cautioned her carefully. "I, I don't know what you're doing, but... that flower, it... it's what Grandpa left for me, for us. What are you planning to do with it?"
Iris stared her father down through her mask. She never wanted her father to find her like this. The way he was looking at her, he was truly shocked.
"...I'm sorry, Dad, I need... I need this." Iris muttered. Steeling her resolve, she turned her back on her father, and made a mad dash to the back door.
"IRIS!" Sier called out, chasing after her. "Iris, stop! I just want to talk!"
"I'M SORRY!" Iris repeated herself, more frantically this time. Iris didn't know where her legs were taking her once she was out of the greenhouse. She could outrun her father easily, she could disappear into the night. But she didn't want it to end like this; she didn't want her father to discover her doing this sort of thing.
Regrets flooded her mind even as she made a mad dash for the exit, as the image of her father disappeared in her peripheral vision. She didn't even bother locking up the back door as she burst on through.
Iris kept running, as far as her legs could carry her. Into the security that the shadows offered her, she slipped into alleyway after alleyway. Lashing her arm out, she hoisted herself up and away, onto the nearest rooftop. From there, she could catch her breath, go over her options...
...Wallow a bit in her dread. She was finally a criminal in her parents' eyes. There'd be no going back now. All she could do now is report to Kamika.
