A window of light flows through the shadowy trees I dive into a bathtub of emerald green water Hidden in a canyon carpeted with soft moss Through a giant keyhole in the rock, the light dances A creamy waterfall spilled from the giant pitcher of rock
May/June 2024
Zinnia Elegans
Aster embarks on an unexpected road trip in a self-driving car San Francisco, CA Thursday, 11 a.m. Aster had been up since 6 a.m. It was summer vacation, and her mom had forgotten to book her in any summer camps this year. Due to this, the better parts of her days were now spent sitting alone at home and watching videos about cats on her tablet. This morning, she was pleasantly drinking her decaf coffee. She swirled the foam with her tea stick. She had always wanted to be like her mom, and though it took a lot of convincing, her parents finally got her some coffee of her own, sans the caffeine. As far as she knew, she was the only fifth- (soon to be såixth-) grader who enjoyed it. She looked at her phone nervously. She picked it up and dialed her mom. The phone went into voicemail immediately. She hung up and called again. “This is Jessica—oh. Hey, Aster. Please, I’m in a meeting. Call back later.” “Wait! Mom, please, I miss you so much, can you do something? Please, Mom, please!” Aster cried. The phone was silent. “Fine, you can come here. Bring a book and you can play in an empty room. I’m sending a robotaxi to come get you. Bye.” Beep. The phone hung up. Aster breathed a sigh of relief. * * * She packed her book, her phone, an energy bar, and an apple into her backpack. She also grabbed her water bottle and darted into the street. The car smoothly parked and she climbed into the back seat. “Hello, Aster. Thank you for using Top Hat Cars. I am car number 342w7hy. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Aster settled in and looked out the window as the car drove off. She pondered the strangeness of being in a car with no driver at the wheel. For some reason, her mom liked these cars and expected she would feel the same. Aster didn’t know what she felt about them. She curled up and started to cry. “New destination confirmed. Arrival time: 3:21 p.m. Please buckle your seatbelt.” “I wish that I could be with Grandma. She pays attention to me. I wish I could be with her in Alabama!” Suddenly the car pulled into a driveway and stopped, sending Aster into a heaving jolt. She collected herself. The car made a brief humming sound and then: “New destination cannot be carried out. It is out of my controlled area. Please—” It paused again. “New destination confirmed. Arrival time: 3:21 p.m. Please buckle your seatbelt.” Aster stared. “Wait, no! Redo the location thing! No!” She was frozen with fear. She took out her phone and dialed her dad. “Hi, sweetheart! I’m sorry, I’m in a meeting. How have you been?” “Okay. But Dad, you wouldn’t guess—” “Please tell me later, sweetheart. I am a bit busy. I love you!” The phone hung up. She sighed. “Alabama, here I come.” Grosford, CA Thursday, 5:31 p.m. The car rolled through the streets. Aster’s stomach growled. She had been saving the apple, though she had already eaten the energy bar. She had to go to the bathroom. She spotted a Wendy’s restaurant. “Um, car? Can you please park at the Wendy’s across the block?” she asked. It obeyed her, dropping her off in front of the fast food place. She walked inside. She did not like Wendy’s, but because everything around here was fast food, she decided she would order something. She quickly went to the bathroom, after which she returned to the counter and ordered a large burger. She ate one half and saved the other. Then, she bought some more water and returned to the car. “Continuing journey.” “Actually, it’s getting dark. Can I sleep?” “Searching for nearby hotels.” “I can sleep in here,” Aster said reproachingly. The car purred. Its engines whirred in silence, almost apologetically, as if it had made a mistake. “Canceling search. Please get some rest.” Kingman, AZ Friday, 8 a.m. The car rumbled through the streets, waking Aster. She grumbled. “Mom, stop shaking me, I’m—oh.” She remembered that she was in a self- driving car. “Good morning, Aster. I am equipped with snacks and refreshments under the armrest that you can have for breakfast.” She flipped open the hatch, only to find energy bars and old candy wrappers. She wrinkled her face in disgust, slamming the armrest abruptly. “Can you direct me to a breakfast place? I’m not sure energy bars are my thing in the morning.” “As you wish. Going to: Emmy’s Pancakes,” the car replied, and turned a corner. Aster thought. She could not remember all those digits that the car called its name. Something else would just have to do. “Um, car, can I name you something I can remember? I can’t just keep calling you ‘car,’ y’know.” “Very well,” the car agreed. “Uh . . . I think I’ll name you Zinnia. It’s my grandma’s favorite flower. She would like that. You know, my mom didn’t know what to name me, so my grandma did. Mom disapproved but accepted it because it was last minute.” The car whirred and responded: “What an interesting piece of family history. I appreciate your willingness to devise a new character out of me along with a new name.” Aster snorted at the sentence. Just like an electric car would say. “We have arrived at Emmy’s Pancakes.” * * * After a filling meal of a triple stack of pancakes, a blueberry muffin, and orange juice, Aster and Zinnia took off. Aster thought. Her mom was probably worried sick. They might have called the police. She might have a squad after her! Considering she had been gone for two days made her shudder. Maybe she could call it off, tell Zinnia to go back, end this madness . . . But really? They had
The Red Planet
I am from “the Red Planet,” Mars, millions of miles from a place called Earth, which, at night, became a bright, shining star, holding hands with the two enormous moons. I am from the capital, Crater Thunder, where we played tennis on the red, red dirt, except the game didn’t go past the five-minute warmup, as wasting oxygen tanks was a crime. I am from the neighborhood right next to the launch site— we wore enhanced earplugs every night to sleep, and woke up to the rumbling of engine fire, signaling the end of a journey for tourists. But I liked Mars, my true home. Earth is too green, too blue, too brown; too overpopulated, too loud, too free; too clean, too oxygenated, too peaceful . . . . . . and too beautiful.