Page 89 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Fuck, I’m nervous for Jasper even though he rocked that. I don’t like being at odds with him.

“Now, Mister Tucker, please grow the cacti field to three times its normal size.”

Jasper steps forward and places a hand carefully on the cactus closest to him, watching the plant. In the space between us, the cacti begin to bubble and grow until they’re stretching tall and wide, bumping into one another as they creak and groan.

When they’re at least three times their original size, the troll proctor calls for a halt again. The second test is marked as a pass.

The female proctor presses against her ear again so that when she speaks, we hear it over the field of cacti. “For the third section of the test, Mister Tucker will transmogrify the cacti into something relevant to Pine Gulch as a haven. Points will be awarded for successful transmogrification as well as creativity.”

Jasper steps forward and walks into the middle of the field, picking his way carefully around them and avoiding the longest of the spines. Once he’s surrounded, he begins speaking under his breath again, palms facing the ground once more.

Once again, the cactus bubble and burgeon, growing taller and wider. Whatever they’re doing happens more slowly this time, and I start to worry that it's not working.

“It’s a mustang,” Bluebell says softly, pointing toward the cactus closest to us.

The moment she says it, I realize it’s true. Each of the plants is growing taller and elongating. They take shape slowly but surely, tendrils and leaves forming into forelocks and manes and tails and long, beautiful limbs. Some of the horse shapes are standing, some are rearing, and it's then I realize just how masterful this artwork is.

At the edge of the field stands a big stallion, watchful over the herd just as he is with our local herd of mustangs. The smallest “mustangs” representing the foals are toward the center of the herd with the mares protectively around them. It’s just like how they behave in the wild.

My throbbing heart is in my throat as the entirety of the cactus field finishes growing into the shape of mustangs.

Jasper smiles and steps toward the proctors, who ask him questions, although we can’t hear from this far away. He points to several of the animals, smiling as he goes back and forth with the proctors.

After a few minutes of conversation, the male proctor presses his ear button and announces, “Test three has been passed with flying colors. This is one of the more stunning creations we’ve seen of late! Let the record show that Mister Tucker has passed three of the five tests. Only two remain, and these two are surprises—one from me and one from my co-proctor.”

He gestures toward the second proctor, who steps forward with a smile. “For the fourth test, I’d like Mister Tucker to create a list of the forty-two species of plant within range of his green magic. I compiled my list earlier today. In order to pass this test, he will need to identify all forty-two varieties.”

Jasper’s mouth drops open, and he looks between the proctors, huffing out a disbelieving laugh. The male claps him on the shoulder with an encouraging nod.

“You’ve got this, Jazzy,” Jack shouts. “Rock it, dude!”

Normally I’d shout for him too, but I’m worried about distracting him.

Jasper drops to his knees on the ground and places both hands on the dirt. Curling his fingers into it, he calls out species as he identifies them. “Butterfly weed, quaking aspen, columbine, lupine, blanket flower, frost aster.”

The Tuckers start cheering, and I join them as he gets all the way to forty identifications. Chokecherry and bitterroot take him a few minutes to get, but when he murmurs the last plant, the female proctor shouts, “Well done, Mister Tucker! All forty-two identified, and rather quickly too! Excellent job!”

I breathe a sigh of relief as I risk a glance at Bluebell. She smiles softly up at me.

When I look back at the field, Jasper’s staring at us, smile gone.

The male proctor claps him on the back again. “For the fifth and final test, I chose a practical application of green magic. Mister Tucker, it is possible to tell something of the life of a plant by using our magic to enhance our inner wisdom and sense of that plant. For example, you might ascertain that a plant was recently treated with a certain chemical or that it’s not regularly getting enough water.”

Jasper smiles, but he’s thumping his fingers on his sides, a sure sign he’s nervous. This should be relatively easy for him because he does some form of this all day each day, reading the state of plant life. He’s got this.

The proctor reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small, spindly plant, handing it to Jasper. “This is an air plant. Just this morning, I did something to it, and I’d like you to tell me what it was.”

Jasper’s mouth drops open, brows bunching. The proctor clicks off the button on his ear so we don’t hear their conversation. Jasper appears to ask some questions that the male proctor answers. After a few long moments, Bluebell places a hand over her mouth and stares at him.

I lean down and ask, “Is that super hard?”

Jace looks over Bluebell at me. “Really hard, yeah. It’s easy enough to tell if a plant needs water. Figuring out something that was done to it? It’s not a skill we use often because, while it’s practical, it’s almost more like detective work. Plus, this plant isn’t in dirt. Air plant roots are only for attaching them to other things, so it’s very atypical.”

I turn back to Jasper, but he’s staring at the air plant in his palms, his expression focused and intent.

Five minutes later, the proctor asks him something. Jasper shakes his head, and the second proctor joins the two males.

Red stains Jasper’s cheeks as he runs a hand through his dark hair. For the first time since he started this fifth test, he looks up at us. He’s obviously frustrated, brows angled and his stance tense. He frowns at me then looks back at the plant.