Chris Mastree's Arc

Chapter 3 of 10

Chris stood at the greenhouse door as dawn turned the sky gray. Inside, frost still covered everything. The generator sat silent. The frozen books waited. But this place had shelves and glass and space. This place could work if they found the right pieces. They needed fuel to make heat. They needed soil to grow in. They needed to understand what made pine trees strong. The answer wasn't here yet, but the path was. Chris stepped back outside into the cold morning air, ready to search. The town square opened before them. Shops lined the streets, their windows dark and shuttered. Chris walked past each one, their skull tilting to read the signs. A hardware store might have fuel cans. A garden center might have soil bags. But then Chris saw something else. A metal box sat on a corner post, weathered and old. The faded paint read "Acorn Donation." Someone had put this here long ago to collect for a cause. Chris touched the rusted surface with one branch. If they could fix the greenhouse, if they could bring pine trees back to life, others would want to see it. They could put a box like this outside. They could share what they learned. The town might help once they saw green needles growing again. Chris pulled the donation box free from its post and carried it back toward the greenhouse. One more piece found. One more step closer to the green they remembered.