As soon as Caruso woke, his thoughts went to Miranda and the bowls sitting in her larder. Last night, after the chicken broth had cooled and congealed, Miranda had scooped the jelly into all ten bowls, and inside, Caruso had placed a little sliver from each six mushrooms. The remaining four bowls they used for extra bittergill. Finally, they secured the lids and left them overnight.
He couldn’t wait to run downstairs to the kitchens. There was a tingling nervousness in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn’t sure if that was entirely to do with the mushroom cultivation.
Entering the kitchens, he made a beeline towards the larder. Miranda blocked his path.
‘Not so fast young man. Where do you think you’re going?’
Miranda wore a green apron, dusted with flour and fastened tight around her figure. A heavenly aroma came from the kitchens behind her, or did it come from her?
‘The bowls should be ready,' Caruso said. 'Let’s check them!’
‘Nothing good ever happens before breakfast. Go sit down.’
‘I don’t think I can eat. I’m too excited.’
‘My kitchen, my rules.’ Her eyes danced with that playful quality Caruso had become familiar with. He gave in and sat back at the table.
Kactus and Blue entered together. Upon seeing Caruso, Kactus gave a low mocking bow and addressed him as “Maji”. Blue chuckled at the display.
Caruso decided to just ignore it, he knew not to engage.
Kactus wasn’t finished. ‘So, Caruso, when can we expect the new bittergill harvest?’
Instead of answering Caruso poured himself some orangegill juice.
‘Well?’ Kactus prompted. ‘It’s going that badly, is it?’
‘Four days,’ Caruso said. ‘In four days, I’ll have successfully cultivated bittergill.’ All he’d done was simply reaffirm his initial intention. So why did it feel like the stakes had just risen?
‘Four days?’ Kactus spoke with mock admiration. ‘Hear that, Blue? What I haven’t accomplished in a lifetime, our young Maji here will deliver in just four days!’
‘Astonishing!’ Blue said, sniggering alongside Kactus.
Kactus changed to his normal boastful tone, ‘My new harvest of silverstems and dog’s vomit are coming through a lot better than expected. Some of the best I’ve ever made. I’m sure you noticed. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking around my garden yesterday, probably trying to figure out how I did it. You know, ordinarily I’d be open to calling this challenge off…But I’ve half a mind to put you in your place.’
Normally, Caruso’s strategy against bullies was to disengage and wait for them to get bored; the strategy had never been a huge success. It was a strategy borne from his lack of physical prowess and fear of escalating things. But this situation was different. Removed from the arena of physical confrontation, Caruso actually felt like he had the upper hand. While he wasn’t very skilled at verbal jousting—lacking the quick wit of Orange, or the intelligent confidence of Kumiko—he knew he could back himself up with his shrooms and his knowledge.
Kactus launched into an arrogant and misguided speech about how books can’t teach the intricacies of shrooming. His constant smirks toward Blue showed that he actually thought his speech was something to be proud of.
Caruso had had enough. ‘Please stop talking.’
‘Why? Am I starting to make sense?’
‘No. You’re right though, I did check out your medicinal patch yesterday. Your silverstems were a dull grey, and too dry around the base. Did you really think enhancing your soil with leaf compost and freshly dropped pine needles would work? And I saw you gave the same treatment to your pennylace. You realise those are two completely different shrooms, right?’
Kactus gave an incredulous snort. ‘Oh yeah, and tell me, Maji, what would you have done differently?’
‘If I was you? There’s a lot of things I would do differently. But your best chance would be to apologise, and ask me to teach you how to do things properly. If you’re sincere enough, then maybe I will.’
Blue looked surprised and turned to see Kactus’s response. The man seemed undeterred.
‘You think that just coz you wear the same necklace as me, that you’re as good as me? Don’t you realize I’ve been growing shrooms for thousands of years?’
Caruso hesitated with his response. He knew he should just keep quiet and hopefully let his shrooms do the talking. That way if he was wrong about anything, he wouldn’t have risked much. But he longed to put Kactus in his place, and he wanted to do it now. ‘How is it possible to spend thousands of years growing shrooms and not understand how to cultivate bittergill? Aren’t you embarrassed?’
Kactus’s face reddened. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ll believe it when you show me a single shroom that is better than mine.’ He then leaned forward and pointed a fat trembling finger in Caruso’s face. But before he could say anything Miranda swooped in.
‘I hope everyone’s hungry!’ She set down a tall stack of breadshroom pancakes in the middle of the table. As well as a flagon of honeyfungus syrup, and a bowl of berryshroom preserve. Kactus leaned back and stared hungrily at the food before him.
‘You’re an angel,’ Kactus said.
For once, Caruso agreed with him.
During the breakfast, Ferris and Miles arrived, and Miranda delivered another large stack of pancakes. The conversation was quickly steered towards the ongoing animashroom experimentation and the Urchins’ ongoing attempt to shut it down.
‘We still have Mang,’ Ferris said. ‘As long as she is still conducting experiments, I’m hopeful we will figure out the animashroom before the Urchins do.’
‘How many stations do we have left?’
‘Mang’s station up by the northern lake. Urchins haven’t found that one yet. But we have another decoy station down by the southern gorge. The Urchins will expect us to be down there. I have increased patrols in that area, hopefully that will draw their attention, and they will not find Mang’s station before the Godshroom ripens.’
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
‘How long until the Godshroom ripens?’ Blue asked.
‘I will soon be visiting the Maji to confirm. But I believe it will be within the next two months. Miles, I want you down south. Round up any stray Urchins wandering into our territory and bring them back here. Take Blue with you.’
Within the next two months. No one else seemed shocked by this—that in two months time everyone would relinquish their bodies and send their minds to a new planet. The most shocking thing about it was that no one had asked Caruso if he was prepared to do this with them. It was simply expected that he would. It was too much to think about right now. He shelved it for later.
After eating, Miranda arrived to clear the table, Caruso helped her stack the plates. He wondered why no one else ever bothered to take their dirty dishes into the kitchen. It seemed like basic courtesy.
Caruso washed the dishes alongside Miranda, becoming keenly aware of how close she was standing. Every now and then Miranda’s arm would brush up against his, sending a warm rush of electricity. It happened often enough that Caruso almost thought it was intentional.
‘Does it bother you that no one ever cleans up after themselves?’ Caruso asked.
Miranda pondered the question while scrubbing at a plate. ‘When I first arrived here it did a little. But I’ve lived with the Foresters for so long now, I’ve gotten used to the way things are. I’ve learnt not to expect anything to change.’
‘Why not?’
‘Just the way things are I guess…There’s a saying amongst the Foresters. "Who you are on this world, is who you’ll be on all of them."'
Caruso considered it. ‘So you’re saying people can’t change?’
‘Basically.’
‘But how can you not change if you’re alive for tens of thousands of years, across multiple worlds?’
‘Well if you spend four hundred years on one world, and fail to change there, then how could you expect to change on a later world? Did you ever wonder what effect living thousands, or tens of thousands of years has on people?’
‘Not really. But I’ve always assumed that the older you get the more wise you become.’
‘Ha. If only that were true.’
‘It’s not?’
Miranda filled up a sink with soapy water while scraping food scraps into a bin. ‘When I came here and learned I was going to live for hundreds of years, you know what I thought?’
‘What?’
‘I thought I was going to become the greatest chef. That I would never stop learning. I was going to develop and perfect new recipes, learn how to get the most out of every ingredient. But after a while I just kept making the same old dishes. And the longer I spent doing that, the harder it became to break out of that ever-deepening rut.’
‘But what about this morning? I’ve never seen you make those pancakes before. And it was the best breakfast I’ve had since I’ve been here.’
‘Aw thanks,’ Miranda gave a weak smile. ‘But as it happens, I’ve made them before.’
Together they entered the larder and Caruso cracked open the outer wall to let a bit of light in. Apart from the one mycelium wall, the larder was a large stone room, which allowed it to stay cool throughout the day. All the food was stored around the edges in crates and sacks and jars, all stacked neatly under the counter that lined the stone walls. Pots and pans, bowls and platters and various kitchen implements cluttered the counter tops. In the middle of the room stood a lone table, upon which sat the ten small white finger bowls, all labelled and affixed with their lids.
‘So,’ Miranda said. ‘What should we be expecting?’
‘Hopefully the mycelium has colonised the jelly overnight, or at least started to.’
‘What if it hasn’t?’
‘I don’t want to think about that.’
‘Well, only one way to find out.’
Caruso found the honeyfungus bowl and slid it towards him. Honeyfungus was the fastest grower, and most likely to be a success—he wanted to start with a win. But with his hand on the lid he hesitated and a panic bubbled up.
Miranda delicately slid her hand on top of Caruso’s, ‘Let’s do it together.’
Caruso nodded and most likely smiled stupidly. Together they raised the lid. Where yesterday the mushroom sliver sat suspended in a clear and pale yellow jelly, now it sat in a pure white substance. He let out a deep breath.
‘That’s good then?’ Miranda asked. ‘That white stuff is mycelium?’
‘It’s perfect. That is perfect mycelial growth.’
They shared a smile. It was then that Caruso noticed Miranda’s hand still resting on his. He didn’t say or do anything for fear she might remove it. It felt comforting. It felt like all of the remaining bowls could be complete failures and he wouldn’t care.
Then a thought struck Caruso: What if she likes me? He knew she saw him as a friend, and he’d never considered or hoped for anything more. He liked Miranda, but he had grown accustomed to liking girls from a safe distance. Similar to admiring a pretty figure in a window, he never expected her to look back at him.
He yanked his hand away.
Miranda glanced at him, but Caruso turned his attention to the next bowl. This time he opened it himself. They checked all three edibles and two of the medicinals. All had the same successful and consistent mycelial growth. Miranda grinned and clapped.
‘Don’t get too excited,’ he said. ‘Those were the easy ones.’
Uncovering the first bittergill bowl, only a faint white blotch had extended from the shroom partway into the jelly. In silence they opened the rest. In one bowl the mycelial growth had expanded about three quarters of the way to the edge, the others all lay somewhere in between.
‘What went wrong?’ Miranda asked.
‘Nothing really, it’s just a little slow. If bittergill was easy to cultivate, Kactus would’ve done it by now. At least this proves there is nothing stopping it from germinating out here.’
Miranda nodded and scribbled a few notes. She was a good student.
‘So, we are finished with stage one then?’ she asked.
‘We’ll give the bittergill another day. But yes. On to stage two.’
Caruso grabbed the germinated berryshroom bowl, and after lowering the wall fully, led Miranda outside for a practical demonstration of stage two. It was a relief that stage one went by so smoothly, but most of all he was relieved that the awkward moment from before had passed.
Paper and pen in hand, Miranda looked at Caruso expectantly.
‘Okay, so in stage two the goal is to expand the mycelium into our horse grain, which we will supplement with some combination of sawdust, leaves, and dung—depending on the shroom.’
‘Why horse grain? It seems to grow just fine in the jelly.’
‘Well, the jelly is only good for this initial growth stage. The mycelium now has more requirements, it needs air and nutrients and room to grow. Horse grain is perfect because it leaves plenty of air pockets which the mycelium can grow into as well as providing a small amount of basic nutrients. We could use other grains, or even seeds, or nuts. But horse grain is readily available, and is what Duskydale used.’
Caruso grabbed one of the empty glass jars and scooped it into one of the grain sacks, filling it halfway. ‘We need to supplement the grain with different nutrients depending on the shroom. The best way to remember what to add is to think about the shroom’s environment. Berryshrooms are very simple. They only grow on the trunks of elm trees, which tells us they don’t like the nutrient rich soil. So all we will add is a few handfuls of elm sawdust.’
He added the sawdust into the jar, and on top of that, emptied the bowl of berryshroom mycelium. Then he screwed on the lid and gave it a vigorous shake.
Miranda looked alarmed. ‘Isn’t that going to hurt the mycelium?’
‘Remember, it’s not a plant. Mycelium works different to plant roots. It’s better to distribute it evenly throughout the jar. Hopefully it will colonise it overnight.’
Caruso waited while she finished writing.
‘And what about honeyfungus, what does that need?’
‘Honeyfungus, being a sweet shroom, likes elm sawdust as well. But it is mostly found underneath the elm tree, often amongst other shrooms and normal forest litter. So we add a combination of all the common zone 1 leaves, as well as some horse dung.’
He let Miranda prepare this jar. Caruso went through all six mushrooms, explaining how their natural habitat related to what nutrients they would thrive in. It would’ve been easier to just tell her without explaining everything. But he wanted her to have a complete understanding. After all, this was going to be her future.
Part of it too was that Caruso enjoyed talking about this stuff. There was an inherent joy in explaining things that he had a deep understanding of. And the more time he spent explaining, the less time he had to dwell on any new feelings that had germinated between them. But they were hard to ignore, especially during the silences between explanations, or the errant glances they shared, or any accidental touches.
Of these he had no clue how to proceed to the next stage.