Curiosity is the Foundation of Discovery

They walked across the grass to where the path to the fields started.    

“Well, well, well,” Annabelle said. “That is extremely interesting.” She looked at the house, the shrubbery outbuildings, and all around her with new interest. “That explains quite a lot, actually.”

“You know,” her brother gasped, “you might be a bit more concerned next time a crazed vegetable is going to cut me with a knife.”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. Odd sort of situation to walk into.” She thought some more. “I think we’d better find Ifan. Tell him what happened, get him to calm her down. We might have to move on after this.”

“I was curious! Curiosity is the foundation of discovery.”

“Don’t quote Adolphus to me! He just says that to get out of trouble.”

“It’s true, though. I wanted to know what was in the box. Now I know. And a lot more.”

“True,” Annabelle said. “Like why a fish had a circle of six fins and tasted of violets.”

“More of a lily, really, or an orchid,” Gerhardt said. “Monocotyledonous.”

“What?”

“Monocots have parallel vein structure in the leaf, and petals come in multiples of three. Dicots have a net-like vein structure and petals are in multiples of four or five.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “Goodness me.”

“Don’t you ever listen to Mother in the Greenhouse?”

“Sometimes.” Annabelle shrugged. “I like dissecting things.”

When they reached the farmer Annabelle stayed to speak to him while Gerhardt and Bettina found Claire. Adolphus and Mirabelle were working nearby and came to join them, both sensing trouble and looking for a break from farming.

“They’re plants!” Gerhardt blurted.

“We’re in a farm field, genius,” Adolphus said. “Being plants is rather the point.”

“No! Gwen and Ifan and the others, they’re plants too.” He told them what had happened, what he found in the box, and Gwen’s reaction. They considered; they argued; they theorized. They examined the evidence of carnivorous vines, six-finned fish, and corndogs. Ifan hurried to the house and Annabelle joined them.

“You know,” Claire said, looking at the sky, “violet is the color most useful to plants in photosynthesis.”

Gerhardt shot Annabelle a look. “I’m not the only one who listens to Mother’s lessons.”

“But it’s always cloudy,” Adolphus objected. “Plants need sun, right?” Of all the children, Adolphus was the least likely to pay attention to any lecture, from Mother or anyone else.

“But it is always sunny,” Mirabelle said. “That’s one of the odd things. You can’t see your shadow because the sun is everywhere.”

“The volcanic cloud cover must filter and intensify the sun’s rays,” said Annabelle, who had gotten a head start on thinking about it.

“Like a greenhouse,” Claire mused.

“Greenhouse Land,” Adolphus said. “No, that’s not good.” He muttered to himself, trying out different combinations of words. “Got it! The Hothouse Continent!”

“Good grief,” Mirabelle said. “Adolphus is already writing his memoirs.”

“Listen,” Claire said, “let’s get some work done, be extra helpful to make up for frightening Gwen so.”

“I told Ifan we’d leave if they want us to, and that we would rather sleep in a shed than cause Gwen any distress.” Annabelle said, picking up a hoe.

“Well done,” said her twin. “Very diplomatic. Unlike some boys.”

“Hey!” Gerhardt protested. “Didn’t you want to know what was in that box?”

“Curiosity is the foundation of discovery,” Adolphus said, and had no idea why Gerhardt and Annabelle found it so funny.