garden of eden

Knock, knock, knock. 

Fig didn’t really know what she was doing here. 

It had been weeks, months, too long. The last time she’d visited had ended in some weird almost-fight that she couldn’t wrap her mind around. She didn’t understand what she’d done wrong, she thought she was doing everything right for once… but Alice clearly didn’t understand that. They’d had disagreements before in their years-long friendship, but those had usually been wiped away by next morning. This one felt more… final. 

Knock, knock.

The last time she’d visited, there had been various illegal paraphernalia stuffed haphazardly into shoddy hiding spaces. She had turned a blind eye to it, but she had been uncomfortably aware of the past she and Alice shared as she tried to settle in with a mug of coffee. Alice had stood across from her, almost daring her to say something. Fig couldn’t tell if the look on her face was mischievous, or something closer to barely reigned-in anger. 

Knock, kn—

The door swung open. Alice stood behind it, looking thinner than the last time Fig had seen her. 

“Hi.” The other grem said dully. Fig had mulled over a few different greetings, ranging from friendly to passive-aggressive, but they evaporated the moment she saw her (ex?)friend. Why was Alice so thin? Had she been taking care of herself? Her normally bright, glossy fur looked unbrushed and unwashed. They stared at each other for a long minute, Alice’s face carefully composed, Fig doing her best to mirror the expression. 

Finally, Fig spoke. “I wanted to know if…you were int’rested in the festival. Preparations, that is. I ‘unno about the long journey through the salt flats af’erwards.”

Alice dropped her eyes down to the bundle in Fig’s arms. “Guess that explains the plants. Whatcha got there?” 

“Some bamboo… a few packets of fruit seeds. I know how much you like baked squash, so I brought some of those.” A pause, Fig trying to skim over the familiarity that now felt wrong in her mouth. “I was thinking we could go plant them in the community garden.” Fig watched as Alice twisted her hands together, her round ears flattening. 

“…I do,” Alice finally admitted. She opened the door wider and stepped back, inviting the other grem in. 

Fig stepped into the apartment, trying to pretend that it was normal, not a step removed from the layers of visits she could almost see like a film over the room. It had been cleaned since the last time she was here, and then fallen back into a mild disaster state. Takeout containers littered the counters of the kitchenette, and the carpet had a few new stains on it. Dishes were piled haphazardly in the sink. 

Alice was watching her as she surveyed the room. Fig tried to look like she wasn’t worried, but she was. It had only ever gotten this bad when Alice was at her lowest. Even when the two of them had been distracted by hard partying, she had been almost compulsive about cleaning up. Worry creased lines into Fig’s expression. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alice interrupted her. 

“I’m gonna go grab some gloves.” With that, she shuffled off into the hallway leading to her bedroom. 

Fig watched her go, clutching the plants and bags tighter. If she didn’t want to talk about it, fine. Fig would let it drop. 

--

The walk to the garden was a short, quiet, awkward one. The sounds of spring in the city echoed around them as the two grems moved down the sidewalk — birds were chirping, other people and grems chattered and laughed as they carried on with their own festival celebrations, and the hot wind rustled its way through trees strewn with ribbons. 

Fig, on the other hand, could feel herself growing more outwardly frigid as Alice didn’t even try to hold a conversation. It was like Alice didn’t even WANT to be friends anymore, she thought, clenching her bundle tighter to her chest as they passed a particularly rambunctious group of children. Memories of a happier, peppier Alice kept flashing into her head. Some of the memories were so fragmented, though. Had partying been the only thing that had kept them together? Fig wracked her brain. No. No, there were memories scattered in, deeper ones, of sober moments talking about lifelong hardships. Of comforting and being comforted, of opening up. So what had gone wrong? 

They eventually came to a long white fence on the corner of a less-traveled street. Alice popped the latch, and the gate groaned as she pushed it open. 

The plots inside were already overflowing with freshly-planted greenery; it seemed that other festival-goers had beaten them to the punch. It was empty now, though. The heat had withered some of the well-tended leaves, the sun beating down relentlessly on the little patch of Eden. 

They settled down by an empty square and set to work. Neither of them spoke, aside from a few murmurs for a tool to be passed or a patch of earth to be turned. Fig tucked empty seed packets into her bag. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you look so thin?” She asked. Her tone, sharpened up by the heat and the quiet, came out more accusatory than she meant it to.

“It’s none of your business how I do or don’t look,” Alice replied curtly. 

Fig flattened her ears. “I’m worried about you, Alice. You look—“

“Oh, that’s rich,” Alice snarled, lurching to her feet next to the planter. “You’re worried now? You care now? Yeah right. You only came here to sneer and judge and nitpick.”


“What? Don’ be stupid—“

“DON’T BE STUPID?” Alice barked a laugh. “You haven’t even so much as sent a text since the last time you were here. No calls. No check-ins. You just wanted to make sure you were still morally right in keeping away from me.” She turned away, but Fig didn’t miss the tears choking her bitter words. 

Guilt rose in Fig’s stomach like acid. She swallowed it back down. “It’s not my fault that you insist on continuing to destroy your life,” she growled, her voice low and angry. 

Alice whirled back around, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t speak, just stared, her features twisted with hurt and anger. The blood in her face was rapidly filtering to white.

“I took care of myself for once,” Fig continued. “For once in my life I made a decision that was good for me. And you spat in my face about it. Leaving all your illegal shit scattered around when you know what my responsibilities are now. Acting jumpy and pissy when I told you about my graduation.” Her voice broke. “I was so proud, so excited, and you acted like you hated me. How do you expect me to call after that?” 

Alice clenched her fists, staring intently at the gravel under their feet. She bent, carefully righted a basket that she had knocked over in her mad rush to stand. She turned with casual slowness and began to stride off, back to the gate they had entered through. 

Fig was confused into stillness for a moment. Then she shuffled forward. “Alice,” she called. “ALICE!” The other grem kept walking. Fig strode after her, not content to let it lie like this. “You can’t run forever! One day you’re going to have to tell me to either fuck off or do something about this— this— this MESS we’ve made of our whatever-the-fuck we are! Al—“

Alice threw open the gate with so much force that it bounced back and knocked her over. 

Fig froze for an instant before rushing over, staring down in concern. “Are you alright?”
Alice stared blankly up at the sky for a long minute. “This is embarrassing,” she finally mumbled, covering her face with her paws. “Just leave me here to die.” 

Fig uttered a surprised guffaw before clapping her own paws to her mouth. On the ground, Alice began to giggle. They were soon helpless with laughter, tears still streaming down both their faces, Fig collapsing to the ground herself. 

Finally, the hysteria subsided. They lay next to each other, staring at the wide blue canvas stretching above them. 

“I don't hate you." Alice finally said. "I hate that you think you’re better than me." Fig didn’t move. “I hate that you act like you’re above it all, all the confusion, all the need. I hate that you’ve turned yourself into the kind of person we used to make fun of and run from.” Fig turned her head to stare at Alice. The other grem had her fingers curled into the grass, gripping it like gravity would reverse at any moment and she would fall away, spinning endlessly, into the great blue. 

“I hate that you pulled away from me when you got sober.” Alice continued. “I hate that I’m not strong enough to follow you. I hate that you got to be better first, and now I just have to— just have to—“ she hiccuped into sobs again, still clutching the grass. Fig tentatively reached out and set a paw over one of Alice’s. 

“I don’t… No. That’s not right.” Fig struggled to find her words. “I was acting like I was better than you. I don’t think I am. I think I just… I got out faster, and I so desperately want you out too.” She flattened her ears. “I’m still lost. I’m still confused. I still need. But…I’m moving forward. And I miss you. I want you to come with me.” She closed her eyes, gripping Alice’s hand tightly. “I thought we were going to be in it together, and I don’t like that we’re not in the same place. But I can’t… I can’t go back. It almost killed me, Alice.” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m afraid that it’s killing you.” 

She felt Alice tense, then relax. “It is,” she said, after another long moment. Fig opened her eyes. Alice had flipped her arm so that her hand was gripping Fig’s. Her eyes turned to meet Fig’s. “How…” she swallowed. “How do I stop?"