Read Online Restoring Harmony by Joelle Anthony - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joelle Anthony
Tags: Science-Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Children's Books, Fantasy, Family, Fantasy & Magic, Reference, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Children's eBooks, Teen & Young Adult, Multigenerational, Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories, Social & Family Issues
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us back to Canada,” I said, “but I have a little left over from busking. Maybe if I offered to pay him, he’d give us more.” And better quality, I thought.
“Just forget it, okay? He might think you’re one of the squatters and shoot you.”
“What? Are you serious? With a gun?”
“Of course with a gun. Listen, I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, and he probably wouldn’t shoot you, but you can’t be too careful. If he wanted to be friendly, he would’ve come over. He knows we’re here. Come inside.”
“I’m just going to walk down to the creek,” I said.
“Stubborn like your mother,” Grandpa said, but he didn’t sound angry, or even worried, so I didn’t think he was too scared of whoever lived next door.
“I just want to see what the garden looks like,” I said.
Shaking his head, Grandpa took his cache inside, and I waded through the tall, dry grass. My mom always says gardens are like a magnet to me. Every time we visit friends, I have to check out theirs to see if I can learn anything. I had to see this one too.
When I got to the end of the yard, I was met with a solid wall of blackberry bushes. I found a place near the fence where they were a bit thinner and peeked around the end into the neighbor’s yard. The man had cleared the entire lawn and turned it into a huge vegetable garden, but he was obviously not a serious farmer because the place was overrun with weeds. He’d be lucky if he didn’t lose his whole crop.
Bracing myself for scratches, I pushed through the briars to get a better look. Green corn rustled in the light breeze, and weeds choked the stalks, but the plants looked like they could be saved with some care. The tomatoes stood tall and bent to the ground under their own weight. Someone should stake them up to keep the slugs from getting them.
Carrots, potatoes, and other root vegetables grew helterskelter, and I could barely figure out what was what because of the weeds suffocating everything. Pumpkin and zucchini vines had taken over at least 20 percent of the garden and needed to be cut back.
The place actually looked abandoned. Whoever the gardener was, it had to be someone totally overwhelmed, completely clueless, or very lazy. As I stared at the overgrown vegetable patch, my hands itched to get in there and go to work. I could see dozens of healthy green weeds, just a foot away, that I longed to pluck from the ground and toss onto the compost heap. I wanted to feel the soil against my palms and under my nails, just to remind myself that home still existed. I was hungrier than ever, and it was all I could do not to rip the young corn from the stalk and eat it right then.
I stood in the garden, leaning against the fence for a really long time, breathing in the fresh scents of plants and dirt, thinking. There were a lot of things in life I didn’t know, but the raging hole in my stomach made me absolutely certain of one thing: We needed more food, and we needed it today. I could try to buy it from the neighbor, or I could just take it at night and . . . and what? Leave the money I had to pay the owner back? No, that was stupid. I needed a better idea.
What would my dad do in this situation? I laughed to myself. Knowing Dad, he’d get his farmer’s almanac out and open it randomly, looking for advice. Maybe I should do that. But suddenly I didn’t need to because I remembered Dad’s favorite quote from the book.
A competent farmer rarely goes hungry.
Of course! Whoever had planted this garden didn’t know the first thing about keeping it under control, but I did! Not only could I show my competence, but I could make myself totally indispensable. And I knew exactly how to do it. Assuming I didn’t get shot in the process.
12
July 13th-Jesus said to his disciples, “The harvest is truly plentiful but the laborers are few.”
-Matthew 9:37
I HAD TO WAIT A DAY TO PUT MY PLAN INTO EFFECT because I was so tired, I couldn’t even think,
“Just forget it, okay? He might think you’re one of the squatters and shoot you.”
“What? Are you serious? With a gun?”
“Of course with a gun. Listen, I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, and he probably wouldn’t shoot you, but you can’t be too careful. If he wanted to be friendly, he would’ve come over. He knows we’re here. Come inside.”
“I’m just going to walk down to the creek,” I said.
“Stubborn like your mother,” Grandpa said, but he didn’t sound angry, or even worried, so I didn’t think he was too scared of whoever lived next door.
“I just want to see what the garden looks like,” I said.
Shaking his head, Grandpa took his cache inside, and I waded through the tall, dry grass. My mom always says gardens are like a magnet to me. Every time we visit friends, I have to check out theirs to see if I can learn anything. I had to see this one too.
When I got to the end of the yard, I was met with a solid wall of blackberry bushes. I found a place near the fence where they were a bit thinner and peeked around the end into the neighbor’s yard. The man had cleared the entire lawn and turned it into a huge vegetable garden, but he was obviously not a serious farmer because the place was overrun with weeds. He’d be lucky if he didn’t lose his whole crop.
Bracing myself for scratches, I pushed through the briars to get a better look. Green corn rustled in the light breeze, and weeds choked the stalks, but the plants looked like they could be saved with some care. The tomatoes stood tall and bent to the ground under their own weight. Someone should stake them up to keep the slugs from getting them.
Carrots, potatoes, and other root vegetables grew helterskelter, and I could barely figure out what was what because of the weeds suffocating everything. Pumpkin and zucchini vines had taken over at least 20 percent of the garden and needed to be cut back.
The place actually looked abandoned. Whoever the gardener was, it had to be someone totally overwhelmed, completely clueless, or very lazy. As I stared at the overgrown vegetable patch, my hands itched to get in there and go to work. I could see dozens of healthy green weeds, just a foot away, that I longed to pluck from the ground and toss onto the compost heap. I wanted to feel the soil against my palms and under my nails, just to remind myself that home still existed. I was hungrier than ever, and it was all I could do not to rip the young corn from the stalk and eat it right then.
I stood in the garden, leaning against the fence for a really long time, breathing in the fresh scents of plants and dirt, thinking. There were a lot of things in life I didn’t know, but the raging hole in my stomach made me absolutely certain of one thing: We needed more food, and we needed it today. I could try to buy it from the neighbor, or I could just take it at night and . . . and what? Leave the money I had to pay the owner back? No, that was stupid. I needed a better idea.
What would my dad do in this situation? I laughed to myself. Knowing Dad, he’d get his farmer’s almanac out and open it randomly, looking for advice. Maybe I should do that. But suddenly I didn’t need to because I remembered Dad’s favorite quote from the book.
A competent farmer rarely goes hungry.
Of course! Whoever had planted this garden didn’t know the first thing about keeping it under control, but I did! Not only could I show my competence, but I could make myself totally indispensable. And I knew exactly how to do it. Assuming I didn’t get shot in the process.
12
July 13th-Jesus said to his disciples, “The harvest is truly plentiful but the laborers are few.”
-Matthew 9:37
I HAD TO WAIT A DAY TO PUT MY PLAN INTO EFFECT because I was so tired, I couldn’t even think,
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