Thorn of the Rose Issue 16: Naming Roses
How do you name your trust?
The woman lightly guided Thorn up the fire escape stairs on the outside of an old four-story brick building. The lower rung ‘s metal had shiny new scrapes dug into the rust from last night where someone had pulled it up to help discourage the rioters from entering. Thorn glanced up at the windows—boarded up to help prevent glass from scattering in when stones were thrown at them. It looked like no one lived there—as if no one ever had even dreamed of entering.
When they reached the second-story landing, she knocked and the door opened just enough to admit the two of them. The room was lit from sunlight streaming into the inside, and Thorn wandered over to the windows on the other side of the room, looking up and down. Most of the interior walls were torn down, and the building’s roof was made up of clear solar panels. Thus the inside formed a huge atrium, with planters cascading down the walls and green vines twining everywhere.
“Welcome to the Greenhouse,” the woman announced, throwing her arms wide at the space. She knelt down enough so she could look Thorn in the face and spoke as if to an adult: “I’m Petal,” she said, taking Thorn’s hand. “Petal Peace. What is your name?”
“My mama always called me her sharp little one,” Thorn confided, suddenly unsure of how to answer.
“How about we call you Thorn , then? hmmm? Would you like that?” she asked, searching his face for an answer. Thorn nodded, and stared at the children gathering around them. After that moment, Thorn could never remember having any other name.