Suds

Suds hadn't always believed you could reach it. When she was small, she'd found it maddening that the most important stuff in every living thing was completely invisible, forever out of reach.

Then her aunt, who ran a little kitchen-lab, set a strawberry in front of her. "Feeling like it's hidden from you, little one?" she said. "Let's fetch it out." She showed Suds the trick step by step: mash the fruit to break it up, add soap — "soap pops open the little cells and the even tinier bags inside them, so the DNA spills free" — add a pinch of salt to help it gather, then pour cold alcohol on top, "because DNA won't dissolve in cold alcohol, so it clumps out and floats up where you can see it." When the white thread rose out of the cup, young Suds had gasped. Her aunt smiled. "It was never really hidden. It was just small. And small things you can gather up, if you know the steps." Suds had lifted that first thread on a stick and felt the whole invisible world become suddenly, wonderfully real. "You don't have to just believe it's there," she liked to say. "You can go get it and hold it."

A soft knock came at the lab door. "Come in!" Suds called, already reaching for a fresh strawberry.

Pip peeked in, wrinkling their nose at the fruity-soapy smell. "Suds? Everyone keeps saying DNA is in me and in everything, but I can't see it, so it kind of feels made-up. Like a story."

Suds laughed, a warm croaky sound. "Made-up! Ha — until you hold it." She patted the stool. "Come here. My aunt showed me how to fetch it out of a strawberry, and now I'll show you. Then it won't feel made-up ever again."

Suds walked Pip through every step. "Squish the strawberry — break up all those cells." Pip mashed it in the bag. "Now soap — it pops the cells open and spills the DNA out. And a little salt to help it gather." Pip stirred it in. "Now strain it, and pour the cold alcohol down the side, slow." Pip tilted the icy alcohol, and where it met the strawberry-soup, a soft white cloud gathered, then a thread, curling up out of the cup. Pip's eyes went huge. "Lift it," Suds said gently, holding out a stick. Pip dipped it in and drew up a soft, glistening white thread — real DNA, the actual instructions of the strawberry, dangling from a stick in their own hand. "The soap opened the cells," Suds said, "the salt gathered it, the cold alcohol made it clump up big enough to see. Every step has a reason. And now the invisible thing is right there in your hand, and it will never feel made-up again."