Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I stared at that garden. “Would the stuff for the soup come from this garden?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t want it.”
“You’ve been eating things from that garden for years. Ever since I spotted you in that playground long ago. You were the tiniest little thing, just following my baby around.”
“Playground?”
“I gave you a root. I’d been looking for a boy that could see it. The boy that could, would take care of my baby’s heart. You were the only one that saw it.”
“I. . .I don’t understand.”
“Amaranth. It looks like a man’s balls. All thick and round. Adults can see it, but kids barely can. And it’s good that they can’t.”
“Because it looks like testicles?”
The line clicked.
Silence came on the other side.
“Addie Mae?” My hand shook. “Addie Mae?”
A boom sounded outside. The back door swung open. No one stood on the other side, and then Faith’s mother stepped in—all tiny and leaning on her cane. It was such an odd thing with her to use the cane. She appeared so young, but the walk showed her age.
She had a huge black cape over her shoulders and gray hat on her head.
Snow dotted her clothes.
Worry creased the small wrinkles near her eyes.
“Yes.” She hobbled over to me. “The root looks like balls. Now get on up.”
I couldn’t move my legs. “How did you get here so fast?”
“You’re still asking questions, after all of this?” She tapped my leg with her cane. “Get on up. We need some stuff out of my garden.”
“To get more of the root that looks like balls?”
“No. Amaranth is for other things.” She entered the pantry. Her cane led the way. “The Indigenous people would mix it with honey and a dove’s heart. Then they’d eat it all up.”
I rose from the ground. “Why?”
“They did it for love.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Like you’re doing it for love. You’re going to walk in this garden and help me get the stuff I need for my baby. And you’re going to do it with no questions or doubts of disbelief. You’re going to do it for love. Like we all do things for love.”
I swallowed and entered the garden. A hot sun shined down on me. It’d been months since I’d felt so warm on the outside. I gazed at the breathtaking sky. “Where’s the sun?”
“There’s those questions again. They annoy me.” She traveled down a path made from glittery blue rocks.
Every odd flower an artist could dream up, bordered the path. Triangular shaped violets and actual heart-shaped roses. Bright yellow ones that slithered in the wind like snakes and green-red daisies that dripped silver drops. I even spotted those big purple bulbs that Addie Mae always served in her pies. Those tiny pouches in the center glowed pink and bubbled at the surface.
This is. . .this is life? This is the world? This stuff exists. Magic and. . .this stuff.
“Grab me a bunch of those.” Addie Mae raised her cane and pointed it at a bush outlining the wall.
The flowers were the size of my head. Ever few seconds they opened and closed. Pink tongues licked out of them, but I didn’t see any fangs. Not that the lack of fangs calmed me.
What is that? What the hell is that?!
“You don’t have a bag on you.” She sighed. “You probably shouldn’t hold them in your arms then. Get that bucket over there, take it to the bush, pull as many as you can off, and drop them in the bucket.”
What the hell is that?!
“Daniel, don’t let your fear get to you. Fear stops you from doing the things you need to do most.”
“I always thought fear helps you stay safe.”
“Stay safe from living. That’s all it is. Keep you locked into the universe like a little sheep. But you’re not a sheep. What are you?”
I blinked. “I’m a wolf?”
“No! You’re a shepherd. You guide and protect the sheep.”
“And Faith is a sheep?”
Addie Mae shook her head in annoyance. “No, she’s the light.”
The flowers opened again and all the freaky tongues licked the wind.
I gulped in my fear. “Who’s the sheep?”
“I don’t know, boy. Maybe, that was a bad metaphor. Just get the flowers. And tell me everything that happened.”
“What are the flowers going to—”
And then Addie Mae scared me more than the plants. Her eyes glowed crimson red. Her voice dropped down to so many levels I could’ve sworn the devil himself had spoken. “Enough with the questions and pick the flowers!”
Fuck! This is not okay! I need my gun. I need my gun. This is not. . . I need my gun.
I took a tiny step toward the bush. Never in my life had I felt like less of a man. I’d spent my days leaping over the ledge and jumping into the fire. And tonight, my life had been so shaken up, I was scared to touch flowers.