Rhodora held something tiny and spherical between her thumb and forefinger. She rolled it around momentarily, just gazing at it.

“What am I? I can't move! What did you do to me?” The object's cries were muffled by Rhodora's fingers, and it did not receive any response. “Okay...okay...I'm round...I'm small...am I one of those little rubber balls? No, I feel like I'm hard, and...maybe a pebble...Oh, God, are you going to toss me outside and let me live out my life like this? Rhodora, please, no! Help me, chair-guy!”

I chuckled. I liked that – 'Chair-guy'. Although 'Chair-man' sounded better, as if I were the head of a company or something. “What is he, Rhodora?” I asked, half for Carl's benefit, and half to satisfy my own curiosity.

“Want to guess, Doug?” She played with the transformed officer some more.

“Uh, well, I'm guessing he's not a gumball,” I stuttered. I did not like the policeman enough to allow him that particular, very erotic, experience.

Rhodora laughed her musical laugh. “No, dear. He's a seed!”

Several of the objects in the room made surprised sounds.

“Oh, my God! No! Please! Don't...plant me! I'll be stuck in the dirt...It'll be dark, I won't be able to see...I'll be trapped...”

“Seeds usually can't see,” snapped Joey. “You're lucky she gives you that ability. Too bad she's letting you talk, however.”

“Rhodora, there's no way I'm going to be a flowerpot for him,” said Jake. “That asshole is not growing in me, no matter what he is.”

“Oh, Jake,” Rhodora scoffed. She tossed Carl into her pocket, and we heard small, muted yelps emanate forth. Ignoring them, she scooped up a plastic fork that lay on the table and it became a flowerpot filled with soil. She dug the seed back out of her pocket. “In you go, Carl!” she pushed him into the dirt.

“No! No!” His cries were smothered as she covered him up and poured water into the soil.

“Mmm, that's....actually...delicious,” we heard from within.

“Can you shut him up, Rhodora? He's been moaning all night,” Tommy requested the next morning.

“He's growing. He's going to sprout soon,” Rhodora giggled, studying the soil. “I made him a fast-growing plant.” She added more water, and a 'thanks, I needed that' emanated from the depths of the pot.

I could only imagine the bliss that the officer was experiencing. The sounds that issued forth as he victoriously burst through the soil could only be described as sexual, and I could not understand why Rhodora was allowing him this. How could this possibly punish the man?

Not that I had any say in this. I was simply a chair.

We watched Carl's small leaves unfurl over only hours, and he visibly grew larger. I wondered how Rhodora was able to affect his growth rate, but then again, this was a woman that could change matter at her whim. If she wanted to create a very fast-growing plant, I guess it was as easy as any other transformation was.

“More water!” the officer called to Rhodora, who was off cooking something in the kitchen.

Singing to herself, she walked into the room, drying her hands on an apron she wore. She did not appear annoyed in the least; in fact, as she picked up the watering pot to deliver its goods, she looked surprisingly happy. “Say please, my little houseplant,” she prompted him.

“Please. Please!” the plant begged. As the water rained down on him, he somehow tilted his leaves to receive it. “Ah, it tastes...so nice. I never realized water tasted like anything.” Carl's voice was remarkably calm for a person that was sentenced to an indefinite time as greenery.

“Yes, it's quite different when you 'drink' as a plant, isn't it, Carl?”

“Yes. I'm growing more roots as we speak...I can't stand to miss a single drop.”

“Would you like some fertilizer?” Rhodora offered sweetly.

“God, yes.”

Many of us mumbled about Carl's treatment, but none of us wanted to hurt Rhodora. We figured she must know what she was doing, so we kept relatively quiet.

Although, viewing Carl's 'punishment', I think all of us would have liked to join him.

Carl had grown into a healthy, robust plant, and he seemed quite proud of himself when Rhodora allowed him to view himself in a mirror. “Can you open the blinds more? I'd love some sun,” he requested, and she gleefully complied.

“Carl, will you flower for me?”

“Can I?”

“Try it.”

Somehow, Carl figured it out. A new stem grew from the wealth of leaves. “I'm budding!” he cried joyfully.

“Yay for you,” mumbled Tommy.

“Keep going!” Rhodora encouraged.

We all watched closely as the bud swelled. “Yes...yes...” Carl was mumbling, as if he was concentrating deeply. “Here it comes...YES!”

If anyone else had heard his jubilant outburst, they would have assumed that he was experiencing something far different than his flower opening....

“Oh, you're beautiful, Carl! Lovely! Do more!” Rhodora clapped her hands in delight, and Carl began to send up more buds.

“No problem!” he said, pushing more and more flowers to open.

“Isn't it nice to experience a different form, Carl?”

“Yes. Yes it is,” he answered solemnly. Another bud popped open.

Rhodora was sitting on me, but her eyes were distant. She drew her finger tantalizingly down my back. “The sun feels nice on my leaves when I'm a plant,” she murmured. “I might do that for a while. Would you guys mind?”

There was a general consensus of “no”s.

“Anyone want to join me?”

I know many of us did, but it sounded like she was tired and simply wanted to rest. I watched her create her own flowerpot, and she began to shrink down, stepping into it. Suddenly she glanced up. “Doug?”

I wanted to be with her desperately, and she looked like she wanted me to as well.

“Sure.” I dissolved into light, much like Rhodora had. I had no body, no substance. It almost felt like I was floating for too long in a pool. There was no head, no limbs; I was simply...a mind. Maybe this was what it felt like to be a ghost. If there were such things as ghosts...

I was drawn into the dirt, and I felt myself becoming more solid. But what would have been my feet were growing into roots, and I could feel every one. I was becoming a stalk, and I was pushing out my leaves in rapid succession. I burst into flower...and yes, it was definitely a 'burst'. My plant body was tingling with pleasure for a long time after.

A daisy giggled beside me. “What a happy little tulip!” it exclaimed. Yes, it had a face. Like any good children's cartoon, the daisy had features. Only this was no cartoon. It was Rhodora.

We stood side-by-side for a while, Rhodora allowing me to revel in my form while she rested.

I liked being a plant; the sun felt nice on my leaves, and I could taste the very moisture in the soil I stood in. I felt an energy unlike I had ever felt before – I assumed my chloroplasts were busy at work making energy from the sunlight. But it flowed through my fleshy form, invigorating me. How could you let Carl have this experience? I thought you were trying to punish him! I asked Rhodora in our minds. Apparently I was not a talking tulip.

The daisy almost seemed to stretch and yawn, and it turned to me. You win more flies with honey than vinegar, she quoted, and then I understood.

I don't know how long we remained plants, but it was several days. It was so enjoyable, that the days ran into the nights, and only the lack of sun on my leaves occasionally knocked me out of my reverie. And through this all, Carl grew into an even more impressive specimen. When Rhodora changed me back, she placed the mirror in front of the new plant, and Carl was so pleased with his appearance, he managed to sprout several more flower buds. “I love this!” he cried triumphantly. “Don't ever change me back!”

And right then, it seemed that everything grew still and quiet, even though everyone except Rhodora was inanimate.

The plant became Officer Scottson.

He looked down at himself in alarm, flailing his arms about wildly. “No! No! Wait! I'm not...done...I was growing...Oh, please...” He stood still, scrunching his eyes tightly closed. When he opened them, he was still human, and his eyes grew watery. “No, Rhodora,” he whispered, grasping her hand tightly. “Please, I understand now.” He turned and let his gaze trail around the room. “I understand all of you, and I'm so sorry that I was so awful. It's beautiful to be what I was. We're all escaping humanity this way. Please, Rhodora, give me back my form. You made me beautiful, and I didn't deserve it.”

Rhodora had a hard but satisfied look on her face. “I'd like to, Carl, but it's time for you to get back to your life. Your vacation time is up, and your boss will be wondering what happened to you. Then they'll probably think I murdered you or something.”

Carl's jaw fell open in shock. “My job doesn't matter now! I just want to drink in the sun...to sip the cool water with my roots...Please, Rhodora. I don't care what they think.”

“But I do,” she said, nudging him gently to the door. “I can't continue to live here if I'm under investigation. I'll have to go somewhere else.”

“No! No, don't leave, please!” Carl begged.

“Then you must go back to keep us all safe.”

The officer gulped. “I will guard you with my life, Rhodora.”

She smiled. “And if you do, then you'll be rewarded. Whenever you like, whether it's vacation, a weekend, or simply a weeknight, you come by here, and I'll turn you back.”

“To a plant?”

“To whatever you like.”

Officer Scottson jumped up and planted a kiss on her cheek. She blushed, and he stumbled back in embarrassment. “Sorry....I just...”

“Is it a deal?”

“It's a deal.”

Carl Scottson was true to his word. Rhodora's name was cleared, and, as the months and years went on, he took care of any 'strange disappearances' so no more suspicion would be placed on her. Several new people joined us; Rhodora was quite happy with the man that became her new, working, shower stall. I took a turn as her vacuum, a hairdryer, a computer...Well, the list was endless, and it continues on. Once in a while I yearn for humanity, and Rhodora grants my wish. I flit in and out of the world, sometimes leaving Rhodora for months at a time, but I always find my way back to her, just as Carl Scottson does. For a while at night he would come by to experiment with different forms, but he always went back to being a plant.

And every weekend, he blossoms.

THE END