Rascal Chuck Meets The White Ghost

     "So what is a cactus plant, anyway," Chuck wanted to know. That was his first question. Then he wanted to see one. 

        Where do you have to go in this USA to see a cactus plant, and not just any cactus plant? A Euphorbia lactea. Better known as the White Ghost. In Arizona? 

      Dan, of course, has the answer: "Actually, there are six states that have cactus plants: Texas, California, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and . . . "

       "Arizona. Well . . ." I look over at Chucky. "Maybe this coming summer we can go in search of the White Ghost, but for now . . ."

        We reach a compromise. The Conservatory in Longwood Gardens, Pennsylvania, has a section filled with cacti. We confirm that they have the White Ghost--an  extremely rare cactus plant with a chunky trunk and an unusual pale ghost-like complexion to its skin.

        I am suspicious. I believe that the cactus plant is there, all right, but why name a plant the "white ghost"? I'm not a fan of cacti anyway. They're prickly, for one thing. Don't bang into one by mistake, or you'll be sorry.  And I'm concerned that Chucky in his enthusiasm to see the White Ghost will want to sniff it, get too close, and get his eye gouged out or get those prickly things lodged in his fur. Or maybe he'll try to climb it. And then he'll be stuck up there, literally STUCK.

       Dan has a completely different opinion. He finds them fascinating. Cacti can store enormous amounts of water. They collect CO2 at night, not during the day, like other plants. They have many medicinal purposes and have been linked to treating glaucoma, liver disease, ulcers, fatigue, and they contain antioxidant properties, minerals and vitamins. 

       I am reluctantly impressed, but still . . . 

        We hurry through the Conservatory, reach the cacti, and set Chuck down with a stern warning to BE CAREFUL! Look don't touch. But I know this kid. He barely listens when he's on a mission. He wants to see this White Ghost and there is nothing that is going to stop him.

            Luckily, there is no one else around. This is not a very popular exhibit. Everyone is looking at the fabulously beautiful orchids, which is where I wish I was. I'm determined not to like these cacti, but sure enough I stumble upon one that takes my breath away. Because this one is NOT prickly. What?

     I reach out and touch the leaves and they feel like velvet. This cacti is called Felt Brush. I try to steer Chucky over here. He gives them a glance, but it's no go.  I walk further on and now I'm in love with the Mexican Fence Post Cactus. Tall and lean. It looks exactly like its name.

       

      "Chucky, over here. Look at this." But Chucky is sniffing his way through the exhibit with only one thing on his mind.

      I then stumble upon something even more spectacular--Silver Ball Cactus. Frankly, I never knew cacti can be so interesting. Maybe, just maybe, I'm wrong. Maybe this White Ghost is not as threatening as I think. I take a few quick deep breaths. Smile.

        "Dan, where's Chuck? He's got to see . . ."

        I am too late. Chucky is across the exhibit. He has found the cactus plant he's been looking for, the cactus plant of his dreams. He's stopped a few feet away and is staring at it, most likely admiring it. I start walking towards him. So this is it--the White Ghost. The sun is shining through the glass roof, and the darned cactus plant is actually glowing, almost as if it's going to come alive and do something. It looks other worldly. But then . . .

        

        Someone turns off the lights. That's impossible because the light is the sunlight coming from outside. Still, the room darkens. I feel a chill course down my spine. This has got to be all in my head. I'm about to turn to Dan, the voice of reason, when I hear howling wind. What? An eerie background noise. A kind of groaning begins around me. I'm not going to get freaked out by this, I tell myself, as I run toward Chucky and scoop him up.

       Of course, he doesn't want to be scooped up--rescued--and starts to wiggle with all his might. He is a strong cat. 

       Now I hear  laughing. Dan?

                     "Sorry. Sorry. I couldn't resist."

                     "That was you?"

                      "Only the moaning. The rest is the storm outside." 

                      I've been so wrapped up in exploring the cacti, I don't notice the oncoming storm. Darned global warming. This crazy weather is getting ridiculous. "So this has nothing to do with the cactus plant. I'm an idiot." 

               I put Chucky down. He shakes off the humiliation and gives me that look that cats give you when they agree with you that you are an idiot.

              "Okay. Okay. Go look at your White Ghost." 

              All is well. Chuck scampers over to sniff the White Ghost. He's almost there when suddenly, out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning illuminates the space. We all look up. The raindrops that have been falling turn into big juice drops. Thunder crashes down.

             "That was dramatic," I whisper, staring at the White Ghost, which is still there, of course. BUT . . .

             Chucky is not. The bolt of lightning, the crash of thunder was too much. He is huddled, this rascal cat of mine, amidst the Felt Brush cacti. His long orange and white tail is the only part of him that is visible. 

            Ha. Ha. He must know what I've been suspicious of all along--this White Ghost cactus is not just your regular cactus. There's something funny going on in Cactus Land.