I’m stumped by that one. Yes, I do think it’s a little strange that I’ve never seen the flower before, but every time I look catch a glimpse of it, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming urge to pick it. I throw my hands up into the air in fake frustration. “Fine,” I grumble, pretending to give up. “I’ll just go find some other flowers to pick.”
I head to the opposite side of the yard, stopping half-way when I realize the twins aren’t following me. Twisting around partly, I slant my eyes at them. “What is with you two? I said I’m going to pick some more flowers. Don’t you want to join me?”
The twins exchange awkward glances, but still don’t move.
Annoyed, I turn all the way around. Chloe stares at me and starts rolling her thumbs. “We know you,” she says uneasily. “At times, you’re a bit stubborn.”
Charis chimes in, “I think what Chloe is trying to say is; we know that you always try to get what you want. You’ve never, in all the years we’ve known you, have given up so easily on something you want. And right now, I know you want to pick this flower. And you can’t pick it. We won’t let you.”
Her statement makes my mind churn like homemade butter. I think back to a time during my childhood in Ancient Greece. Mom had taken to me to a field and was teaching me about various types of plants and what their purposes were. We came across a poisonous type of plant growing in the brush just along the edge of the forest. Its leaves were green with bright red splotches in the center and thorns sharpened to a point lined its’ muted green stem.
“Don’t touch that,” mom had warned me. “The toxins in that plant will hurt you.”
But me, being the forever curious child that I was, well, I touched it anyway. I should have listened to mom. I pricked my finger on one of the thorns, drawing blood and an intense warmth surged through me as a fever overtook me. Not long after that I was trembling from the chills.
Mom shook her head, disappointed while I stood there crying my eyes out. “I told you,” she’d said, scolding me before she carried me up to Mount Olympus and nursed me back to health.
My mouth drops open and my eyes widen. Mostly, I’m in shock, surprised by how right on Charis is. I guess being a Goddess and an only child sometimes allows me to act like I’m entitled to certain things. “Do you honestly think I’d fight you for it?”
Charis’s eyes harden. “Yes. I do.”
“Fine.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Would you two just forget about it and come with me so I can find some other flowers to pick.” I start walking. “Or I can just go by myself.”
The twins still don’t move and I’ve had enough.
I jog over to Charis planting my feet firmly into the ground in front of her. “Alright. Somebody better tell me what’s going on. What has got you two so worried?”
Chloe looks at Charis then at me. She points to the flower. “That flower shouldn’t be growing here.”
I’m confused and baffled and I find it comical that these two are educating me on this flower when I should be the one educating them. “Why? Flowers grow in places like this all the time.” Charis and Chloe exchange another glance. I sigh, frustrated. This whole little game is getting exhausting. Why all the wary looks and hidden innuendos? “Someone please tell me!”
“That flower doesn’t grow on earth,” Chloe says quietly.
“What do you mean it doesn’t grow on earth?” I make a hand-gesture toward the flower. “It looks like it’s growing to me.”
“What my sister means is that flower should not be growing on earth,” Charis adds.
I frown and tap my foot. “Well, who planted it there then?”
Charis shrugs. “I don’t know.”
At the moment, I decide that I’m taking this matter into my own hands. Marching ahead, I shove Charis out of the way. There is only one way to find out what is so damn special about this flower. I’ll just pick it and find out.
But Charis doesn’t let me get that far. Seconds after I’ve shoved her out of the way, she’s on her feet, rushing toward me. She barrels into my side
and knocks me to the ground. I squirm beneath her, loosening my arm and I punch her in the side. She winces, clutching her ribcage and falls on the ground next to me. On my knees, I crawl toward the flower and once I finally reach it, I place my thumb and forefinger on the stem. I start pulling and then Chloe shrieks, “Stop! Picking that flower is a bad omen!”
I sit back, my fingers still on the stem. “What do you mean a bad omen? Don’t you think I’d know if picking the flower was a bad omen?”
“No,” says Chloe. “Like Charis said earlier, you don’t what kind of flower it is.”
“Just don’t pick it,” Charis grumbles, still clutching her side, struggling to sit up.
I start pulling on the flower again as looks of panic sweep across the twins’ child-like faces. “If one of you doesn’t give me a clear answer in ten seconds I’m going to pick this flower.”
Charis grunts and exhales, finally on her feet. “No. You’re going to take your fingers off the stem first or we’re not telling you anything.”
I sneer between her and Chloe. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me? How do I know that once I remove my fingers that both of you won’t play the “let’s not tell Persephone” game?”