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Creature in the Garden (an unfolding tale)by Judy Seicho Fleischman
Little Arianne sat restlessly at the kitchen table playing with the salt and pepper shakers as if they were dance partners. The garden patch beside their house seemed far away and she couldn't decide what to do with herself. She was getting very impatient, waiting for mama to finish making tea as the smell of fresh baked cookies mixed in with the earthy smell of peppermint and hibiscus. Mama? Yes, lovey? You said you'd tell me a story. Sweetheart, it's getting close to dinnertime. The sun is setting. Mom, you promised. Alright, lovey, alright. Where shall we sit? Arianne gestured to their little snug corner, beside the window, with its view out on the garden. Spring had finally arrived and she could smell the daffodils and hyacinth from here. Now where did we leave off? asked her mother. He was standing by the ocean, she replied. Yes, yes. I remember now. Mama, why did that old man go there all the time? He was lonely lovey, and alone. Arianne looked up, drinking in her mother's far away gaze, out onto the garden. She knew to wait in the silence, until her mother was ready to continue. The ocean waves that day were slow and steady coming in, though by this time they were going out more than they were going in. Sunset was giving way to nighttime and as the first lights appeared in that deep blue sky, he seemed to deepen his breathing, releasing into the rhythm of the waves and the night air. He drifted to another time and another place. He looked out on the horizon. Then he was back, much younger, on the deck of a large boat off the coast, southern Maine. His wife had packed him a lunch, as usual, two cheese sandwiches, a thick slice of tomato in between, brown mustard. Nothing tasted so good as on the open water. He bit in, imagining her buttering the bread, slowly assembling the pieces. He pictured her back home, weeding in the garden on hands and knees, her long straight hair held back in two braids. She liked things simple, she would say, but he never saw her this way. He saw in her subtle attunement, a quality of ease and tenderness intermingled with earth, like the smell of fresh soil that he associated with her, sweeter than any perfume. He smiled and took another bite. But mom, what happened? We're getting there dear. Be patient. Arianne sighed a deep sigh and waited. Her mother continued, He remembered coming out one afternoon to surprise her with tea and cakes, the sky a light blue with drifting clouds. Then he caught a glimpse. First it was a bright sudden sparkle, like a flash of lightening that arrives and disappears instantly. He noticed a simple glass, clear through. She had overturned it onto the fertile Spring soil, moist from yesterday's rainshower. Through the glass he saw a dicot, two leaves connected to a small stem, and all around tiny earthworms weaving in and out of the soil. None of this would have surprised him, had it not been for the object resting in the middle of those leaves. A tiny human-like creature with wings, sparkling in the sunshine that drifted in and out, following the patterns of the clouds overhead. His wife was laughing and clapping her hands softly each time the creature moved slightly and glistened. He wondered what his wife was planning. Was she trying to capture this winged creature and bring it home? Was she protecting it, something like a greenhouse? If she wasn't careful, the creature might burn under there. He became frightened for an instant and nearly jumped up. But then he caught himself and noticed his wife's gentle gaze. Slowly, he rose to his feet and approached her with slow steady steps so she would hear him without being startled. She turned, smiling, and looked to the glass. He joined her. Together, instinctively, they dug beneath the surface and loosened the soil. Then he held the glass steady, while she lifted the mound of dirt holding the new plant and the creature in its center. Together, they found a spot protected from the sun's direct rays. She'd chosen the apple tree beside their kitchen. It would be several weeks until it began to bloom. He found some wire mesh and built a makeshift shelter. The creature would be safe here. Even so, as he assembled the pieces, he felt the twinge of doubt, for he recognized that he also was building a cage. "Safe for now," he thought. His wife removed the glass and brought it through the wire door. He closed it. They watched. They waited. The creature had fallen sound asleep in the fold between the tiny leaves. They would return later. By now, the sky had turned dark and a moon sliver revealed shadows on the outer kitchen wall. He wiped off the dirt as his wife helped him to his feet. They stood there for a time, a light breeze passing through. Then they turned and went inside, the kitchen door gently swaying to close behind them. Arianne's mother stopped speaking and looked out the window, that far away look again. Arianne waited as long as she could stand it, and then whispered, then what happened mama, then what? Her mother smiled with a touch of sadness, Ah, lovey, that's for another day. It's time you and I got ready for dinner. You said you'd help, remember? Yes, mama, I remember, Arianne replied with a tinge of disappointment. Still, she knew better than to press her mother. Tomorrow would come soon enough. She jumped to her feet and grabbed a gingersnap cookie from the cooling rack, biting down into its bittersweet crispness and headed to grab her apron.
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