The Strawberry Flower

There were gifts. I was embarrassed to receive them. The best gift was a pen and an exercise book with a message in it that "a good gardener writes things down. Through keeping records we learn." It was probably the cheapest and simplest gift I received but it was the one I valued most. All the gardening books I received I already had. I started keeping records. It wasn't easy. I could barely write. The connection between reading and writing had eluded me. I knew I was incapable of doing anything as important as writing and developed a complicated system of hieroglyphs instead. I only knew how to read. I took all the books I received for my birthday into the radio station and they gave them away as prizes. That was Mrs. Austin's idea.

At the radio station they found a special microphone for me. The presenter wanted me to have it because she always had a headache and painful arm after trying to follow me with the microphone. They also wanted a picture of me. I didn't want it to be done and said no. I was embarrassed. They kept at me though, talked around me and a woman with a camera came. I was pushed against a wall and she was about to take my picture when they saw my hair. Someone got a comb and started combing it. I'm six feet four inches tall and the lady with the comb had to stretch because she was tiny. She was too close to me. She touched me. They changed the part to have it all on the left side. I think it was the left side. The one I start the part at the front. I think that's left. The diagonal part had gone. I looked so much better but it wasn't me. I was crying. Mrs. Austin was upset too. She cried as much as I did. I don't cry often. Hardly ever. But I did then. I'd never seen Mrs. Austin cry.

We walked out of there. People were gathering to see what was happening. They tried to stop us with saying nice things but we kept moving. On the way home we stopped, bought fish and chips and sat on the beach to watch the waves roll in. It was beautiful and soothing. Seagulls had gathered and they begged. We threw them some chips. I offered Mrs. Austin an ice cream. She said she wanted a macadamia one. I always had a rum and raisin. I checked my pockets for money. There was a hundred dollar note. I asked if she thought it was enough. She laughed and asked if I had a five dollar note. I hunted my pockets and there was one.

"You should get change from that," she said. They won't have enough change for a hundred dollars. She gave me a hug before I stood. I didn't mind that. I think it was the first time we touched each other. In the shop I was served first, they insisted.That often happened to me, I don't know why. I think that's why Mum liked to take me shopping. When I returned with the ice creams we sat and licked them. She asked what money I had in my pockets. I started looking, emptied my pockets and she counted it. More than four hundred dollars. We were surprised. I never bought anything. She asked if she could bank it for me. I gave it to her and she gave me ten dollars to keep. "It should be enough," she explained. I'd be lost without her. I almost told her my secret as we lay on the lawn and watched the waves. I had no idea where next to go with my research.

Next day the manager of the radio station visited. He had two huge bunches of roses and he gave one to me. I was thrilled. They were all red because he told me they all loved me. I cried again. Mrs. Austin cried too when she was given the other bunch. The flowers were beautiful. He said he wanted to say how sorry he was. I felt sorry for him having to come all this way. He said they had made a big mistake and asked how I could ever forgive them. I didn't know. I couldn't deal with it and went home. He stayed and talked to Mrs. Austin. I guess they talked about autism, fixations and highly strung. I don't know. I gave my flowers to Mum. She loved them. I went out to the shed to continue my research, trying to measure the rate of flow of sap in a strawberry flower.

For the next two weeks Mrs. Austin talked to me about the radio station. It was gentle and little bits at a time. I trusted her more than any one. We started going back. I was hoping someone would ring in and solve my secret puzzle. No one did. Every Saturday I had a "segment" on the radio. Mrs. Austin stayed very close and I was comfortable. The radio station called the segment Geek's Garden. It was mostly about botany. I loved it. People tried to trick me. It was fun. The radio station let me do what I wanted. I always talked to Mrs. Austin first though.

It was strange, I guess. Mrs. Austin wasn't married. She was once she said but was pleased she no longer was. I don't know. We decided a long time ago I wasn't ready to drive yet and Mrs. Austin decided to try again. It wasn't so difficult this time. She had a different car, an automatic and I didn't have to worry about gears. I guess I'd failed my abc's. Accelerator, brake and clutch. I managed much better with my ab's. Accelerator and brake. She said she liked my ab's and laughed. The first time I sat for my driver's licence I failed. The Policeman didn't explain what he wanted me to do well. The second time I had a different policeman. He was very interested in me and I drove a lot with him beside me. In the end he said I was a very safe driver and had done well. I got my licence. Mrs. Austin and I were so happy. She even danced a little jig around me. I laughed. She gave me a kiss and continued her dance. I'll never forget that kiss. I tingle when I think of it.

One day, when we were going to do a garden I asked why she continued to come with me. I could drive.

"I love being with you," she told me. "You're gentle and have so much energy. You're so busy with things that amaze me. I feel good when we're close. I also want to find out what gives you the energy, what makes you tick." I thought about it for ages and didn't know what to think. I told her I loved being with her and she was the only person who I liked touching me. I think she was very happy when I said that.

A few days later we were at another garden, working on a grape vine that had sprawelled itself in what the owner said was a most undignified manner. We pruned it back a lot. As I was working Mrs. Austin pulled at a piece of the vine and it suddenly hit me between my legs. It hurt. I was on the ground gasping for breath. I think it hurt Mrs. Austin more than me. She was kneeling next to me in tears as I writhed on the ground. She opened my pants and pulled them down saying she had to see what damage had been done. It felt strange as she gasped, held my dick and looked at my balls. I liked her touching me. She looked for a long time before saying she couldn't see anything wrong. Lucky, she thought. I thought so too.

Next day, at her place, I needed to be checked. She lay a towel on the table and asked me to take off my pants and lie on it. She was very thorough with her examination and had my balls in her hands. "Which one was hurt?" she asked and I told her it was this one as I pointed with my finger. She looked at it very closely and decided there was some bruising. My penis was looked at too. She said it was important to be thorough and as she moved it around she observed its protest in that it grew to be big and hard and not easily moved. She sighed. "You know, you always call me Mrs. Austin? Could you please call me Rosalie from now on? I'm only twelve years older than you and calling me Mrs. Austin makes me feel old."

I was surprised. "Okay Mrs. Austin- I mean, Rosalie." It was difficult getting my dick back in my pants, it had grown so much. I was embarrassed.

That day I had a phone call. Rosalie answered it. A company was wanting to know about my interest in growing plants in space. She told them I hadn't thought about it. They asked if I would. She said we'd talk about it. Apparently they'd heard me on the radio. They thought I could help find useful species.

That day I bought buckets and we went hunting for algae. I was experimenting to find suitable stock feed. Instead of hay bales we were looking at algae pellets. It was a lot of fun for me and I think Rosalie enjoyed it too. At every creek and river we got some algae. At one river it was difficult. I had to jump in. I stripped to my underpants. Rosalie insisted I was not to do it on my own and she took off her jeans and shirt to jump in with me. She paused for the moment and then took off her bra. I'd never seen her naked before and it was difficult not to look now. We jumped in and dived to the bottom looking for algae. It wasn't so easy collecting the correct species. There wasn't a lot of it. We put some in a bucket and then swam around for a while, laughing because of our audacity in confronting the cold and being so close to the road.

When it became too cold we got out. Algae was sticking to our skin. She picked it off me and turned around for me to pick it off her. It wasn't easy but eventually she was clean of it and turned for me to do her front. She grinned as I looked at her breasts. They were whoppers. I couldn't resist touching her nipples. "That feels lovely," she said. I was amazed by how big everything was. I lifted her breasts to feel their weight. It was amazing. Then she pulled off her panties and I could see a triangle of hair. It seemed odd she didn't have a penis like me. I wanted to see more. It was fascinating. We dressed when we were dry, got into the car and drove home. On the way we talked about plants. She was impressed to think I could be chosen to help with growing vegetables in space. She thought it might relate to the mars expedition and asked if I was excited.

"Very," I said. "They'll need a hothouse and that's fascinating. I love the humidity and warmth."

She was silent, thinking, willing me to talk more. I asked her if she could keep a secret. She nodded her head and looked at me, waiting for me to tell her. It was difficult. I started slowly.

"I remember the first time I was in a hothouse. It was beautiful. I don't remember everything though. There were strawberries growing hydroponically that cascaded from pipes all around. It looked like a green and red walls. I looked at the plants and they were so lush. They were pumped up to fullness, not like plants grown in the open that transpired more and weren't so crisp to touch. I spent hours looking at them. The owners trusted me. I was lucky. It was all so surreal and beautiful."

"I had my pocket knife and microscope with me, trying to learn about plant pathogens. When I cut a leaf open it was fascinating to see how perfect the internal structure was. All the cell walls looked rigid and their structure precise. I wondered if the precision came about because the plant needed it to live at the moment or whether it was genetically preprogrammed from eons ago. I picked a flower, cut it open and it too was beautiful, more intricate than a leaf. I could see the channels the sap flowed along. There were little grains of pollen contaminating the sap. I wondered if they were there before I cut the flower open. The cells lining the chanels bulged and connected like they were rounded building bricks. I started thinking. If pollen could contaminate them perhaps other things could too. I wondered about me. I'd love to be inside a flower. It would be beautiful, if I could breathe."

She asked why that was a secret. She was right, it didn't need to be a secret.

"Because I didn't have any clothes on." She looked at me again, inviting more of an answer. "Because I think I was actually inside the flower for a while. It was so vivid it couldn't have been a dream. I felt the wash of sap around me. Everything was so bright and white. Strawberry flowers are white." She was still, silent, waiting. "The smell was beautiful, tangy, a little earthy, moist and delicious. When I touched things they were soft and resilient. It was warm too. I swam against the pull of the fluid. The channels broadened and it became increasingly difficult to swim against. I was in a tributary at first and swam into larger and larger channels. The fluid rushed around me."

"I could see, my eyes were open. I could feel an oiliness when I touched things. Everything felt so smooth, soft, yet resilient. The more I swam the more excited I became. Everything was open in front of me. I don't know if I was smaller or the flower was bigger. I guess it could have been both. I don't know. I've been trying to find out."

Rosalie said nothing for a while. We stared at the road ahead of us.

"What did it feel like?" she finally asked.

"It's difficult to say. I know and I don't. I haven't got the words to describe it properly. It felt refreshing, soothing, energetic and lazy. I felt I was weak in the presence of awesome power. At the same time I felt I was the strongest I'd ever been. The sap seemed to ripple around me, like it was massaging me. It caressed and gouged fingers into me, they went so deep yet the touch seemed light. For everything I say the opposite is also probably true. It's weird but beautiful. I've wondered about it constantly for a long time." Rosalie kept looking at the road as she drove. I could see her thinking it through.

"What next?" she asked.

"The receptable," I said.

"What's that?"

"It's the part of the flower where the flower's parts are attached, the petals, the stamens and the pistil. I stopped swimming, hugged a cell and watched as the fluid came out of it in a torrent. I knew the receptable was a dangerous place. The fluid continued to caress me. I could get lost in the receptable.

"What happened?"

"I'm embarrassed."

"Tell me."

"You won't get angry or anything?"

"No," and she looked at me to give her assurance.

"Well. I don't know how to say it."

"Please."

"Well, it was very stimulating. The fluid touched me all over. It caressed and massaged, touched and teased. It was beautiful. I didn't want it to stop. My penis," and I looked at her to confirm she wasn't offended before I continued, "Was so big, hard and it twitched, throbbed. It thrust itself forward and suddenly there was an eddy in the water that threw me into the stream. It was too strong for me to hold on. I was thrown to the top of the channel and my penis ruptured the wall. Fluid gushed from the breach, I saw the wall tearing and I was flushed out of the petal.

I must have hit my head. I don't know what happened after. All I know is I woke up naked. I rushed to get dressed. My clothes were there, like I'd been sucked out of them. I was fast. When I was dressed I noticed white fluid on the ground, like it had been sprayed there. I packed up and left. That night, at home, I found a wound about half an inch long. It was between my testicles. It was the strangest thing, beautiful and bewildering. The most beautiful thing to happen in my life and I knew so little about it. I've been trying to find out what happened. That's why I read, why I garden. It was so beautiful I have to find out. I've never felt so complete, so whole, since."

Rosalie reached to my knee and held it for a while, as though to say she would respect my trust. I'd never told anyone before. Now I'd told Rosalie I felt strangely comfortable. She hadn't laughed at me.

"Was that when you were thirteen?"

"Yes."

Next day, Rosalie watched me carefully. We went to a few gardens and worked. It was okay but I could see she had something on her mind. She didn't say anything and I didn't ask.

The day after she seemed preoccupied too. I touched her shoulder once and smiled as she sometimes did for me. It was a big thing for me to do. Then she asked about meristemming and wondered if she could borrow a book. I was very pleased she wanted to share my interest. I wondered if she'd thought of something I hadn't.

"Can you get it now? she asked. "I'd love to read it tonight."

"Sure, I can do that."

"Can I come with you?"

"I'd like that." We got into her car and it didn't take long. She seemed nervous. I was worried. We went into the house and stood in front of my room. Mum and Dad weren't home. I said I wouldn't be long and she asked if she could come too. I wondered if there was room on the bed for two but said we could try. Rosalie went first and I followed. I was pleased she'd remembered to take her shoes off. It was strange but she was wearing a skirt and I could see her panties. When we got to the bed it was dark and I found the light switch. With the light on she was sitting on the bed smiling at me. I found the book and pulled it from the stack. I was about to leave and she put her hand on my thigh and asked if there was a reason to hurry.

"I love it here. It's like a womb, quiet, reassuring and warm." She looked at me for a while. Is there a way to block the tunnel to the door?" she asked. I had books to stack in the tunnel and showed her how I did it. "Thank you." she looked at me again. "I'm not sure. I don't want to make a mistake but I have to try." When she was sure she had my full attention she started undoing the buttons on her shirt and took it off. Then she undid her bra and took it off.

"I've been wondering. When you were inside the flower, did the cells lining the channel you were in look like these," and she held her breasts for me to see. I shook my head. The cells were longer. She moved to be on her hands and knees. "What about now?" she asked.

They were flatter on the bottom," I told her. She put her hands underneath and they hid her nipples as she lifted them a little.

"Like this?" she asked. I looked and compared them with the images I held in my memory. I was astonished how they were so similar and white. I was excited. She sat up again and grinned at me. "Perhaps you should take your shirt off." I was quick. "Do you want to see more," she asked. I nodded my head. She slid down the bed a little, lifted her hips and slid her skirt off. "You sure you want me to continue?"

"Of course I do." She lifted her hips, slid her panties down and kicked them off.

"Smell me," she said as she spread her knees. "Put your nose here and smell." She pointed with her finger. I put my face there and smelled her. Her hair tickled. "Is it familiar?" I looked at her, wondering. "Does it smell similar to the strawberry flower?" Obviously, I hadn't thought about it. "Try again," she suggested. I tried again, for longer. I recognised it. She was grinning as I lifted my face.

"It's the same," I told her.

"I knew it. I just knew. It had to be. Now touch it." I felt it with a finger. "Don't be shy." I used another finger. "Does it feel like the walls of the flower?" she asked. I touched some more.

"It does. It does." I was excited.

"Take the rest of your clothes off," she said quietly. I quickly shed them. "Your penis is big. It's throbbing. Just like when you were in the flower?" I agreed. "Explore me. Use your fingers and open me up." I was uncertain. "Do it. Just do it." She put her hands there and opened herself to show me. When she took her hands away she waited for mine to replace them.

I started to feel her, my fingers wandered. She smiled when I looked at her.

"Ah. That's it. Push your finger in deeper. That's my vagina. Does it feel familiar? Don't be shy."

"It does. It's beautiful."

"Lie down." I felt awkward and didn't want to make any mistakes. I lay down and tried to look comfortable. She touched my penis, looked at my testicles and asked where the wound was. We couldn't find any scar but I showed her where it had been. Then she climbed onto me and sat on my belly. There was a moment she looked at me, a sweet, tender moment. We shared a smile, she brushed hair off my face with her fingers as I rested my hands on her waist. She moved herself down me and lay herself along my body. I felt her fingers touch my penis again, take hold of it. As she slid down there was a small chill as though something was wet and rapidly evaporated. Our eyes locked together. Her long black hair hung around her face and dropped to surround mine. It was like we were sharing a tunnel, something special. She grinned. I did too, not so confidently but I trusted her.