Herb

Kri walked into the store with the silhouette of a butterfly on the door. A cluster of faces turned toward her as the door jingled. A person who looked like a very kind raisin seemed to be in charge, and greeted Kri warmly:

"Good to see you, Kri, even here." The air was full of...that smell.

"It’s an honor to be invited," said Kris, grimly, and pulled her face into a smile.

The kindly raisin glided behind a counter and handed her a large parcel. It radiated that smell.

"Five days worth," nodded the raisin, kindly. With great effort, Kri fit the parcel into her backpack.

"Yep," said Kri and held up her watch hand to the pay dock. When it beeped, she turned to leave and then, "Oh, right."

The raisin hummed in kind agreement and held out a coin for Kri to catch. 

Kri turned to a figurine of a dog with big, sad eyes and slot in the top of its head for coins. 

"Oh, hi doggy," she recited as she dropped the coin in.

"You’re my favorite customer," recited the shop owner.

"Power to the people," recited the gaggle of people hanging out in the shop, still. 

"I’ll bring the onions," said one of them.

"I’ll bring the potatoes."

"I’ll bring the tent and tables."

Kris thanked them all as she left. 

Shift

Annie approached her station and placed the key in its safe spot, pressing the flap down and stretching the sheet across the cot. She drank the whole water bottle and placed the empty next to the dream dish. Checking the equipment, she got into place and put on her visor. 

Unwrap

"Wow, the pictures weren’t even altered. It really does look like blue butterflies," Lac said, as the leaves unfurled from the paper and spread all over the counter. 

"It this a real blue, though?" wondered Kri, unrolling the last of the paper.

"Bluish, greenish grue. Grue is all of green and blue."

"Hmm," she assented, noncommittally. "This package is all for the onions," she said.

"I never realized how strong the smell was, either," Lac mused.

"It wasn’t so strong at the barbecues. Not even Jimmy. Jimmy had so much."

The screen was playing a loops of each step in preparing the herb. The paper was soaked through with blue oil, and their hands were coated with it, as well."

Lac looked at the words on the screen. 

"That’s how it’s spelled? What the heck is that smiley letter?"

"Huh? Oh. It’s from the Tescroll."

"That’s what I get for never reading the Tescroll. Letters with eyes everywhere," his voice cracked at the end and became a shaky giggle. He looked so thoughtfully at her as she continued trying to arrange the oily leaves into piles.

"They’re called...like...diacr...auts..." she tried to until she looked up at him and started giggling, too. They laughed for a while and then started crying again.

Kris

She walked to the little store at the corner of the street with a white butterfly silhouette centered on the door.

A cluster of faces all turned toward her. She left the wheeled bag crookedly near the door. A strong smell of raw onions wafted from it.

The kind raisin in charge smiled professionally and moved to slide a brown paper parcel along the counter.

"Nice to see you, Kris, even here."

Kris sighed and tried to pull her face into a smile "It’s an honor to be invited," she tried, unconvincingly.

Everyone nodded ceremoniously. Kris felt a pang of jealousy.

"Three days or five?" asked the very kind raisin.

Kri bit her lip, hard, and said, "All five."

The proprietor bowed gracefully, reached and slid another, slightly smaller parcel next to the bigger one.

"There’s instructions and everything are wrapped in."

"I’ll look it up if I have any problems," Kris replied, curtly, and remembered she was supposed to still be polite and cheerful.

"The arrow is for where to start unwrapping. The recipes are wrapped around the herb inside the top layer."

"Ok."

The ladies gathered stated as a chorus, "And we’ll be around," with a rising melody.

Kris bowed and clicked her watch to the counter. She watched the bars light up and change. It beeped an unusually loud series of notes when it was done.

"Power to the people!" said the chorus, with the same series of notes.

She saw the old hand reaching out over the counter, panicked for a second and then remembered.

She cupped her hand and caught the ceremonial coin as it dropped. Then she bowed again.

The wrinkly had slid the little shiny dog figurine on the counter.

Kris turned to it.

"Oh, hi doggy," she recited as she put the coin into the slot on the figurine.

"Your my favorite customer," said the raisin in response.

Kri turned to the gaggle in the corner and curtseyed.

"I will need some help with the onions."

"I’ll be over as soon as I’m done in town," said one of them.

When she got home, she turned on the screen as she set down the parcel. She looked up:

"How to prepare Doozle herb for Lamb."

"Did you mean, ’How to prepare Düssel herb for lamb?’"

Bitch, I might, thought Kris. What the heck is this word with a smile in the middle?

Lac came in. He was now wearing all dark blue cotton, and wiping his face and arms with a brown towel.

The screen was looping an animation of how to unwrap the parcel.

"Do you want to do one? There’s two."

Wordlessly, Lac took hold of the nearer parcel and pulled the clearly marked arrow tab.

"Wow, they look just like the pictures." He exclaimed as the herbs tumbled out.

The leaves really were shaped like whole butterflies. The smell filled the whole room.

"Some of it is for the onions," Kris said flatly.

Lac was looking at the screen, and exclaimed, "That’s how it’s spelled now?"

"The screen thinks so. What the heck is this?...oh. It’s from the Tescroll."

"Didn’t anyone read the Tescroll?"

"I did. I read the whole thing multiple times, but I don’t remember anything about some smiley face herb."

Lac grunted in agreement, smelling the herb, then wiping the blue oil off his hands, but then he went and smelled it again.

"I did my scroll-rite the year before the herb became mandatory for all barbecues," Kris continued. "I don’t remember any episodes of Scroli Polies about it, either. Freakin’ smiley word herb."

The door dinged, announcing that lady from the herb store. Her name flashed on the screen. Her title was "Beeb."

"Oh. Hey, Beeb," they greeted her.

She had brought a gift of two massive bags of onions.

"Power to the people. After this you can call me Betty."

"Power to the people, Betty.”

Annie

She was back at her station, placing her key in its safe spot, pressing the flap down over it and stretching the sheet across the cot. She emptied a bottle of water and placed the empty in the holder near the dream dish. She checked the equipment. Then she climbed onto the cot. She checked her visor, put it on and lay down.

Next Chapter: Last Dream Expansion