Scrape. Dig, scrape.

Fowler looked up. It had been a while since he had, in fact. The light in the East Garden was goneomehow, lunchtime had faded to evening and he hadn't realized it.

The boy stood and wiped his face before realizing his hands were covered in dirt still. No matter, this is worth it.

He had seen enough that day. He'd been in the cafeteria at lunch when the older boy had decided to--don't think about it. Before Wendy, Pascaul had been the first passive to be nice to Fowler on the personable level. Of course, they had to be nice to the galdori or risk punishment, but he'd gone beyond the usual 'Yes sir, no sir', he hadn't laughed at Fowler's stutter, and he'd even helped him with one of his experiments. The one he was transforming into something special, right there in the East Garden, to be exact. Fowler had needed one plant, a special type of flower, and Pascaul had helped him get it. The boy smiled at the memory. Pascaul had brought a wrapped box to the boy's room, delivered it with a bow and turned to leave, no questions asked. "D-don't you w-w-want to kn-know wh-wh-what I h-have?" Fowler had asked. Of course Pascaul had. So Fowler had invited him in, opened the box and explained its precious contents to the passive. He might not have understood a thing I was talking about, but I remember his grin.

The boy took a step back and looked at what he had spent the past six hours working on. It was finished except for one thing, but he was going to fix that tonight in his room. That last detail, and it would be ready.

Tomorrow, he would go to see Wendy. Tomorrow, he would let them all know. And they will always remember.