Orchids

The Syrian defector's wife Onsieh Hasapil starts to open up to David Winstone, our hero.

“Do you know anything about Orchids, David?”

“Not really. They are tropical and grow on the ground in jungles I believe which means they wouldn’t grow wild outside maybe California and Florida. Why do you ask?”

“Well, because I grow orchids, I probably never told you that before”, she smiled back at him.

David stood looking at her, his mind thinking how her eyes flashed with so much life when she talked about something she loved, just like Lynne’s did when she told him about something that Helen had done during the day.. He had noticed it a with Onsieh a few times before but only now did it occur to him that it never happened went Saeed was around. What made him realize that he wondered.

“David? Are you alright?” Onsieh asked with a little concern in her voice.

David jumps a little as he comes back from his thoughts “I’m fine, sorry .”

“You seemed so far away then, what were you thinking about so intently?” she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“Just the way that you …. Oh, nothing really ….. forget it” David replied but suddenly realized that he might be blushing. What on earth is going on with me, what’s that all about he thought as he turned his head away from her in embarrassment.

 

“Well, if you have some free time I would like to show you something, it’s my pride and joy actually.” She scans his face to see what his reaction is. She is happy to see that he smiles back at her, so she goes on..

“I think that you know I like to grow orchids, and I have a special Orchid just coming into bloom in the greenhouse”.

“Of course, I would like that” he responded truthfully. As I said I’m afraid that I don’t know much about orchids, so what is special about this one?”

“It is named “Onsieh.”

“Really? Is that a coincidence or was it really named after you?’

 “Yes it is actually, follow me and I will show you.” She turns and leads him out into the back garden where her greenhouse is almost hidden behind a row of cedars about 9-feet high. It is half buried into the ground and is about twenty five feet long, with the longest side facing south to get maximum sun exposure.

David follows her, and she keeps turning to make sure he is following. Her face is full of smiles like a child showing their most valued possession to a best friend.

“I had no idea the greenhouse was going to be so big when you said you were having it built” he said as she led him through the door which closed when he lets go of it.

Trestles on both sides were loaded with small pots, there must have been a hundred or more. Above them was a misting bar like he had seen in the greenhouse he and Lynne used to go to for their plants each spring. They would spend hours choosing just the right size and color flowers for the color scheme that Lynne had devised during the cold winter days.  In her mind she would imagine what it would be like when they sat out on lazy Sunday’s, with a glass of wine, music as a subtle background, and Helen playing in her wading pool or absorbed with building something with her Lego, which she loved so much.

“You have gone away from me again, David, though this time I see from the smile on your face and that it was a loving place you went to.”

“I’m sorry, Onsieh, forgive me but it seems that I remember the good times from the past when I am around you.”

“You are thinking of Laura, yes”

“Yes” David lied, not wanting to explain how much of a challenge his marriage to Laura had become in the last year before she and Emma died. He changes the subject quickly,

“So where is this wonderful Orchid?” David asks as Onsieh leads him to the far end of the greenhouse.

She stops, terms towards David and holds out an open hand to her right. There he sees four pots, each with the most beautiful flowers that he has ever seen. For a moment he is speechless.

“It is a Peacock Orchid and this color combination has never been grown outside of Syria before. Do you like it?”

“It really is quite exquisite, I’ve never seen a flower with such a deep and vivid combination of purple and yellow like that” he replies. “Where did you get it from?”

“The original stem came from my teacher back in Syria, at the University of Damascus. It’s the result of a long process, a regime of growing and then taking cuttings from the strongest stock with just the right colors, and then repeating it all over again until you get what you are hoping for” she tells him. “I studied Botanical Science under him and he had been growing orchids all his life at his country home. In the summer I used to work there in the greenhouse tending to the many types of tropical plants he grew, and doing some practical labs towards my degree. That is when he showed me his orchid greenhouse. I just fell in love with them. When we came to America and had to start our life all over again I decided that I wanted to grow orchids. I contacted my professor and he sold me my first cuttings  We never knew how valuable my family’s jewelry was. We had no children to leave it to now, so I decided it was right for me to invest in my future by growing Orchids.  I plan to maybe try to sell them here, you know commercially if I was able to get them to grow well, and it looks like it is working.”

“So how come it was named after you?”

“My professor was looking for a name for his new genus of orchid, and I guess I was just there at the right time. It’s a great honor, I think.”

“Were you and the professor …. err, close?” David asked.

“Oh no, nothing like that. Professors would never dare to have a relationship with a student in Syria, it would bring shame on his family and even worse on the students family if it was ever found out. They would both be shunned and thrown out of the University. It isn’t the same as it seems to be in universities here in America, where I have heard it happens often.”

“I suppose it does happen here, but it doesn’t mean we all think it’s OK to behave that way” David says defensively.

“Life would be very difficult for a girl who has had a relationship with her professor, she would probably never be suitable to marry. It’s not fair but that is the way it is almost everywhere throughout Middle East countries I am sure.”

Author's Note

My original plot was overcome by time in the 10 years since I started writing it. It also started as a Screenplay (which I thought wold be easier, was I wrong). So it is in the process of being re-configured, plus re-formatted in spades. No mean task for this novice. I want to get some feedback about whether my style is of interest before going to far. I have about 20,000 words so far in screenplay format so it should bulk out to a book I am hoping.