The small cactus sat comfortably, surrounded by moist soil in a ceramic pot. A desk in a typical office in a two storey house served as its home for quite sometime now. The family it lived with consists of parents both in their late thirties, and their two children. The father works in an office as a Human Resource Generalist. The mother stays at home and does everything a typical housewife does. Their two children get along very well, although there were the occasional petty quarrels. The cactus’ life was simple and peaceful. It had grown used to this family, and even enjoyed their presence.
One day, the mother brought her little daughter back from a birthday party. The little girl stepped out of the car with her small hand clutching the string of a violet balloon. The cactus gazed out of the window and was immediately drawn to this balloon. It danced with the wind, bobbing softly and shimmering in the light. The cactus, leading its plain, uneventful life, had never seen anything so beautiful or bright, and it was determined to meet this beautiful balloon. After two days, his wish came true.
The balloon freed itself from the study table that the girl had attached it to and floated down the house, peeking into the various rooms before sliding into the office. It peeked through the door and immediately focused on the cactus, taking notice of its spikes glittering in the moonlight, and its coarse, rough skin. Carefully, the balloon floated through the doorway and approached the object which it was fascinated by.
The two looked on each other for a long while, examining every detail. Silence had never been so loud, and to the cactus, it was deafening. Eventually, after memorizing everything about the cactus, the handsome cactus, the balloon murmured, “Hi”.
Silence roared on, and the balloon hovered, waiting. Eventually, the cactus squeaked, “Hi.”
There was another pause, but it was a comfortable one. The cactus broke it with a simple, “How are you?” and the conversation escalated just from that.
Morning came too early for their liking – the father walked into his office, noticed the balloon and returned it to his daughter’s room while she was still asleep. The cactus watched his new friend float away, string tight in the father’s hand, and called, “I’ll miss you.”
The next night, the balloon untangled itself again and drifted over to the office, eager to see the cactus. They stayed still for a few moments, just content with each others’ presence, and they continued their conversation from the night before.
And so for the next few weeks, the three of them got used to the routine. The cactus would wait, the balloon would appear, and the father would take the balloon away in the morning. Although the two missed each other immensely during the hours of the day, they looked forward to nightfall, when they would see each other again.
One night, the balloon floated in to the office and said, “Cactus, I am growing weak. I fear that I will begin to deflate very soon.”
The cactus was silent, slowly crumbling inside. Then it spoke: “Balloon, even when you are completely empty of air and you move no more, I will still love you.”
The balloon felt a rush of happiness and gratitude towards the cactus. It floated closer than it ever had, centimeters away. It said, “I want to stay with you forever. I don’t want him to take me away in the morning.”
“Then stay.” whispered the cactus.
It inched forward, and with a squeak so terrible it ached, one of the cactus’ spikes prodded the balloon and it watched its love sink onto its arm, lifeless.The cactus wailed with pain, clutching onto the balloon.
Morning came, the sun shone through the window and rays of light danced on the matte surface of the balloon. The father came into the room, as always, and tried to pull the balloon off the cactus.
“No”, thought the cactus. “I’m not letting go.”
And no matter how hard the father tugged and heaved, the cactus and the balloon were still attached. Sighing, he went to inform his daughter of her loss, and tossed the cactus and the balloon into the trash bin outside on his way to work.
As the cactus listened to the rumble of the car’s engine and the sound of it speeding down the street through the metal walls of the bin, it was happy, even though its heart was breaking. Nothing could pull them apart now.
Arel Ji Arsi
Januay 2010
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