Aunt
Josephine placed a tray of food on the coffee table and then sat back on the
couch next to Uncle Jeffrey. Charlotte,
Topping, Claire and Ned sat on the dining room chairs while Mr. McBardon,
Bartholomew's elderly neighbor, wearing a plaid shirt, sat in a plaid stuffed
chair with Oliver on his lap.
Bartholomew came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a pitcher of
lemonade and glasses. One of his phones
(he owns twelve) began to ring. He
didn't want to interrupt the meeting, so he let it ring. Soon the group was surrounded by rings of
different tones.
“How many
phones do you have?” asked Claire.
“Bartholomew
has twelve phones. He has trouble turning down a deal,” said Aunt Josephine.
Bartholomew
blushed and changed the subject. “Okay,
has everyone met everyone?” They went
around the circle and introduced themselves to Mr. McBardon who was the only
stranger.
“Well, I
thought, before we talk about what plants we want to grow, we could discuss the
layout or design of the garden and those types of things,” said Bartholomew.
Uncle
Jeffrey spoke up immediately, “Bartholomew, I'm a little concerned about the
property the garden is going to be on.
Do you know who owns it? Is it
city or railroad owned? I'm thinking we
really should get permiss...”
“No need,”
interrupted Mr. McBardon. “I've lived
next to that property for forty years.
Ain't nobody done nothing to it in all this time. I say garden it and see if anybody even
notices. If you go asking permission, you
know what's going to happen –nothing but trouble.”
“That may
be, but I would feel more comfortable if we had permission, instead of just
forging ahead,” said Uncle Jeffrey.
“Why don't
we get started and before we dig Bartholomew can check into it?” suggested Mr.
McBardon.
“Yeah,”
said the others as they nodded their heads.
“Okay,”
conceded Uncle Jeffrey, “But Bartholomew, do make sure you check.”
“I will,”
assured Bartholomew. “All right, next
thing I am wondering is if we all want our separate plots or if we want to grow
stuff together? It might be easier if we
grew enough tomatoes for everyone and grew them all next to each other. Then do the same with peas, and beans, etc.”
Mr.
McBardon ran his hand through his thinning white hair and seemed agitated. “I want my own plot. You all can grow things together if you want,
but I want my own plot for my own stuff.
I want my own plot.”
Everyone
raised their eyebrows at Mr. McBardon's insistence. “Okay, what do other people think?” asked
Bartholomew.
Everyone
else liked the idea of growing all of their food together. This was the first time most of them had
grown food, so there were no expectations.
Aunt Josephine and Uncle Jeffrey commented that it would be fun to grow
it all together. They had grown a few
things in their yard but nothing on this scale.
So it was agreed that almost everyone would grow their food together but
Mr. McBardon would have his own plot.
“Okay, so
what do we want to grow? After we figure
that out we can determine where we will plant everything. Any suggestions?”
Claire took
a carrot stick from the tray dipped it and bit into it. Loud crunching sounds emanated from her
mouth.
“I think
Claire wants carrots,” joked Topping.
Claire
nodded her head and smiled while she chewed.
“Okay,
carrots,” said Bartholomew. “Anything
else?”
Aunt
Josephine spoke up, “Well, I would like some peas and beans. They are early vegetables so we would have to
start them soon. I'm a little worried
about vermin getting to them. When I was
little, rabbits and squirrels would eat the peas before they could grow.”
“Not to
mention the rats that might be along the railroad track,” said Mr. McBardon.
Charlotte
let out a little squeal at the thought of rats.
“I'm sure
there aren't any rats along the tracks,” assured Uncle Jeffrey.
“Just so,”
said Mr. McBardon, “I can put my plot out closest to the railroad tracks and
plant a big hedge of plants so they can't get through. And there's that little dog that's been
hanging around humping everything. It
might dig up the garden.”
There was a
pause in the conversation as everyone wondered how a hedge of plants could keep
out rats. Mr. McBardon just sat there
chewing on his upper lip with his bottom dentures.
Changing
the subject, Bartholomew said, “If you don't mind, I would like to grow cherry
tomatoes, and some big tomatoes, three different kinds of lettuce, kale, three
kinds of green beans, peas, potatoes,...”
Topping noticed Bartholomew's whole body become energized while he
talked about the vegetables he wanted to plant.
His hands were moving differently for each vegetable he mentioned. He was standing and moving from side to
side. His eyes were looking at everyone,
excited to engage and share his vision.
Topping almost laughed out loud.
“...and celery, beets, and sweet potatoes. I think I also want to grow some green onions
and maybe try out some artich...”
“I'm done,”
announced Mr. McBardon as he got up from the chair, dumping Oliver
unceremoniously to the floor. He
shuffled to the door and walked out without saying goodbye. A moment later everyone in the living room
let out a little laugh.
“How old is that guy?” asked Topping.
“I don't
know,” said Bartholomew.
Uncle
Jeffrey quickly interjected, “He's got to be eighty-eight years or so. He might be needing our help with gardening
this summer. I'm not sure what he is
capable of. So, be kind. I think this garden means a lot to him.”
“Yes,”
added Aunt Josephine, “I think he is excited to do something active, something
he used to do when he was younger – not so close to the end.”
“I'm
worried I'm going to find him dead in the garden,” said Claire.
“Oh,
Claire, how could you?” scolded Charlotte.
Topping, Bartholomew
and Ned laughed. Bartholomew had noticed
Ned was not very engaged in the meeting.
He sat quietly next to Claire.
“Hey, Ned, what do you want to grow?” asked Bartholomew.
“Oh, I
don't care. I'll just help you guys out
where I can and then bring some stuff home now and again. I don't really know what I would eat. I'll just help.”
The group spent the next half hour
plotting out where they would grow everything.
Mr. McBardon's plot was put out toward the railroad tracks. There were so many vegetables Bartholomew
wanted to grow that he had his own plot for the vegetables other people were
not interested in. Topping had a fence,
a tool shed and a sitting area in his design for the garden. Everyone decided to wait to install those the
second year, if there was one. Topping
also had identified a spot for Claire's chickens, if the garden ever became
that established. Claire was elated that
Topping thought of her chickens.
Charlotte was slightly annoyed that Topping thought of Claire's chickens. Finally, it was decided that Bartholomew and
Uncle Jeffrey would buy the seeds and plants in ten days and everyone would
prepare the garden and plant it in two weeks.
Once they
were done with the planning of the garden, Topping asked Bartholomew if they
could talk for a minute. They carried
the food and lemonade into the kitchen.
“What's
up?” asked Bartholomew.
“I need
your car. Uncle Cy's shop has an opening
and I need to have your car in the next day or two so I can paint it.”
“Oh yeah...,
my car,” Bartholomew said with some hesitation as he peered into the living
room to see where Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt Josephine were.
“You still
want to get it painted, don't you?” asked Topping.
“Yes, of
course, I just...”
Uncle
Jeffrey and Aunt Josephine walked in to the kitchen and started putting things
away.
“So, I can
pick up your car on Tuesday? I'll have
it back to you by the time we plant the garden,” said Topping.
“Is this
about painting your father's car?” asked Aunt Josephine.
“Bartholomew,
you know we don't approve of your painting your father's car like this,” added
Uncle Jeffrey.
“Yes,
painting it a color is one thing, but flames?
Your father would turn over in his grave,” said Aunt Josephine.
“Bartholomew,
as I told you, the car is not a collector's car or an antique, but it is rare
around here and it is in very good condition.
I don't want you doing something to it that would...ruin it somehow,”
warned Uncle Jeffrey.
“I don't
have to paint it,” offered Topping.
“No,” said
Bartholomew. “I want you to paint
it. I can't stand that pink stripe down
the side. And I want it looking cool –
with flames. Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt
Josephine, I have seen the drawings Topping has made and he is a very good
artist. You would be impressed, too, if
you saw them. Topping is a good car
painter. I want him to do it.”
“Well, I
wish you would reconsider. But it is
your car. We can't force you to do
anything you don't want to,” said Uncle Jeffrey. Then he and Aunt Josephine left the kitchen
to straighten the living room.
“You sure
you want to do this?” asked Topping.
“Yeah,
absolutely,” responded Bartholomew.
“And you
want flames?” asked Topping.
“Absolutely,”
said Bartholomew.
Topping
couldn't help but sense that Bartholomew was not so keen on the flames. His agreeing to flames seemed more out of a
sense of duty – that he wouldn't go back on his word. Topping thought of the excitement and
anticipation he saw in Bartholomew's eyes when he talked about growing vegetables. That's what he wanted to see in Bartholmew's
eyes when they talked about painting flames on his car.
“I've been
thinking,” said Topping, “would you mind if I changed the design some? There are some changes I think you would
like. I don't have time to sketch them
up and show you.”
Exasperated,
Bartholomew said, “These changes aren't because of Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt
Josephine are they?”
“No, not at
all, they have nothing to do with them.
It's just that I think you would like a few changes from what we
originally planned. It's not much. Trust me.”
Bartholomew
eyed Topping with uncertainty.
“Trust me.”
______________________________________________________________________
Bartholomew and his friends gather to plan the garden. They are joined by an odd neighbor named Mr. McBardon.
