The Moonflower Seed

The smallest seed in the greenhouse gave a tiny wiggle—and floated right out of its tray.

A soft current from a vent carried it past the rim. Round as a crumb and wrapped in a pale little pod, it drifted above the planter, turning slowly in the air.

“Oh, no,” Emery whispered. “Come back. You belong in the soil.”

The greenhouse was Emery’s favorite room aboard the station. Leafy planters lined the curved walls. Small lamps warmed the leaves, and a round window showed Earth far below, blue and white against the dark. The air smelled like damp soil and mint.

Roo, Emery’s friend, was checking the watering can near the door. Roo looked up. “Is that the moonflower seed?”

“It is. The last one in the tray.” Emery reached for it.

The pod floated just beyond Emery’s fingertips. Emery pushed off from the planter and scooted after it. A quick grab missed. The pod spun away, turning end over end toward a row of herbs.

“Wait!” Emery called.

Roo caught the planter before Emery bumped it. “I’ve got this steady.”

Emery tried again, moving slowly this time. The pod drifted near a tall basil plant. Emery stretched out one hand, then the other. A sleeve brushed a leaf. The air shifted, and the pod whirled around Emery’s head.

It was not going far, but every grab seemed to send it somewhere new. Emery stopped and held still, hands tucked close. The pod floated beside a broad green leaf. Its curled edge and fine fuzz caught the pod for a moment.

Emery blinked. “Did you see that?”

The seed pod bobbed free, but it didn’t spin as wildly as before. It drifted past the leaf and into the open space above the planter.

“I’ll catch it!” Emery said, reaching quickly.

The pod twirled out of reach once more.

Roo gave a quiet little laugh. “Maybe it likes the leaves better than our hands.”

Emery watched the pod turn slowly in the soft lamplight. The greenhouse was full of broad leaves. Perhaps there was a way to help it without chasing it at all.

The pod drifted toward a planter of tiny carrots. Emery stayed still and watched. It brushed a carrot leaf, caught briefly in its soft edges, then floated free again.

“There,” Emery said. “It stays put when the leaf cradles it.”

Roo leaned closer, careful not to stir the air. “So we can give it a place to rest.”

Emery looked around. Beside the moonflower planter grew a large, smooth leaf, wide as a small plate. Its edges curved up like a little bowl. If the pod could reach that leaf, Emery might guide it to the planter.

“I’ll move the leaf,” Emery said. “Slowly. Can you hold the planter steady?”

“Ready,” Roo replied, placing both hands around the planter’s sides.

Emery reached for the broad leaf. The seed pod floated above them, turning in a lazy circle. Emery waited until it came near, then eased the leaf underneath it.

The pod brushed the green surface and nestled in the leaf’s shallow curve. Its fine fuzz helped keep it from drifting away. Emery smiled, but didn’t grab.

“Now what?” Roo whispered.

Emery brought the leaf’s tip close to the planter. The pod stayed tucked in its curve.

“Not too fast,” Emery murmured.

Emery guided the leaf until its tip touched a small opening in the planter’s fine mesh liner. The soil was held snugly inside the mesh, with a little space left for planting.

Emery’s fingers wanted to snatch the pod. Instead, Emery held the leaf steady and used one fingertip to nudge the pod from its curve and through the opening. The pod slipped into a small hollow in the soil.

“We did it!” Roo said.

Emery gently pressed a pinch of soil around the pod. Roo steadied the planter while Emery tucked it in without pressing too hard.

For a moment, they watched the little place where the seed rested. Nothing moved except a nearby fern, whose fronds swayed with the station’s quiet air.

Emery set the broad leaf back beside the planter. “Good thinking, leaf,” Emery said.

Roo grinned. “And good waiting.”

Emery gave the soil one last careful pat. The moonflower seed was safely home.

The greenhouse grew quiet again. Roo let go of the planter, and it stayed in place beside the row of carrots. Emery checked the soil around the moonflower seed. It was snug inside the mesh liner, with no open space for the pod to drift into.

“Should we add water?” Roo asked.

“Just a little,” Emery said. “Moonflowers don’t like soggy toes.”

Roo held the small watering cup while Emery let a few drops fall onto the soil. The drops clung to the earth, then were drawn through it along tiny fibers. Emery set the cup back on its hook.

They sat on the padded bench beneath the round window. From there, the greenhouse looked like a green room tucked inside the station. Leaves leaned toward the lamps. A curling vine rested against its support. The planter waited quietly nearby.

Emery kept glancing at the soil. “I wonder how long it will take to grow.”

“Maybe it will start with a little green point,” Roo said. “Then a stem. Then leaves.”

“And then a flower,” Emery said. “A moonflower.”

“What color do you think it will be?” Roo asked.

Emery pictured a white flower, wide and calm. Then a blue one, like the Earth in the window. Then a yellow one, bright as a little lamp.

“It might surprise us,” Emery said.

Roo nodded. “We can look in the morning.”

The seed would need time in its dark, cozy bed. Emery rested both hands in their lap and watched the broad leaf beside the planter. It no longer needed to be a guide. It was simply a leaf again, holding still among all the other leaves.

The lights hummed softly overhead. Beyond the round window, the station carried on through the quiet of space. Emery leaned back against the bench, thinking of the seed tucked into the soil and the flower it might become.

“Good night, little moonflower,” Emery whispered.

Roo whispered good night too. Together they sat a little longer, wondering what color the flower would be when it opened, while the greenhouse kept its leafy watch around them.