This was the universe teaching Kia a lesson about showing off to impress hot women.
“Absolutely,” Kia called over the sound of rain and slime falling.
Sullivan closed her eyes, then stepped through the sheet ofwater.
“Fuck me!”
Kia couldn’t help but laugh.
“That water is like thirty-two point one degrees,” Sullivan screeched, her voice going high into the treble range.
Kia stepped through. If you were going to show off, you had to go all the way.
“It’s not that bad.” A string of urban seaweed slipped down her neck toward her collar, and she screamed and flailed every muscle in her body to get it off.
Now it was Sullivan laughing.
“You got another one.” She picked a bit of greenery out of Kia’s hair.
The building created a pocket space out of view of the crowd of onlookers eating biscuits below.
Sullivan put her hand on the back of Kia’s neck. Kia jumped.
“Do I have more slime on me?”
“No. I was just thinking you looked good in rain gear.”
No amount of rain gear could have kept them dry. By the time they reached the roof, they were soaked. They climbed over the retaining wall that surrounded the roof, keeping them from slipping off and also holding four or five inches of water.
Sullivan took a tentative step. “Erosion and uplift. It’s bad.” She reached into the water and pulled out a handful of juicy-looking weeds in one hand and dark green leaves in the other. “See?”
“Yes and also no. What is it?”
“Sedum that you want. And oak tree saplings, which you don’t.” Sullivan nudged something with her foot.
Under the slime, a canvas hose lay like a bloated boa constrictor after swallowing an alligator… or a small woman with a big Afro.
“So are green roofs ever a good idea?” Kia asked.
Sullivan tipped her face skyward, eyes closed to the pelting rain. Kia couldn’t tell if Sullivan was enjoying the rain or repenting ever having praised the green roof concept. But when Sullivan looked at Kia again, she was smiling.
“Right now, they are a terrible, terrible idea.” She shook her head slowly, looking bemused despite the rain. “In general, they can be great. They save energy, reduce temperatures in the city, manage water runoff. If every building that could have a green roof did, we wouldn’t get urban heat islands.” Sullivan rattled off more facts, then stopped herself. “Sorry, you didn’t want to know all that.”
True, Kia had not planned on a lecture about green roofs in the pouring rain, but now that she knew, one question burned in her mind.
“If they’re so good, why are there so few of them?”
Kia guessed the answer before Sullivan spoke.
“They cost more.” Sullivan shrugged. “And if you fuck them up, you get this.” She gestured to the lake of sludge. “Shall we get to work?”
Troweling and scraping and throwing baby oak trees over the side of the building with nothing to shield them from the rain and the wind should have made her hate Sullivan, her own pride, roofs, plants, and life, but a half hour in, they were laughing so hard they were crying.
“You know that painting of George Washington crossing the Potomac… Delaware? That’s me.” Sullivan struck a pose, her chin held high and her hands on her hips.
“You look very—”Sexy. Adorable. Wonderful. Silly.“Washingtonian.”
Sullivan pulled up some stringy vegetation. “Why can you not live in a garden?” she asked the plant. “In the river? But nooo, you have to get up on the roof, because you’re sooo special.”
