The Gardens of Digby Green: I Made You a Garden
When she realized what he carried, she flailed her left arm. Smirking, Digby stopped beyond the range of her frantically pushing right leg. He set the jug where she could read the label, but not knock it over. Her scrambling propelled her farther up the pile of soil, which suited him just fine. Digby stepped nearer. Her next mistake was to try pushing him away. He grabbed her free wrist and tied it behind her.
“Remember what I told you? That I’d know you like no one else?”
Tears slid down her cheeks. Digby grasped the funnel, raising it until the tubing straightened. Perfect.
“I made you a garden, Rose.” Muffled sounds escaped her gag. He shook his head. “Don’t act surprised. The shop wouldn’t be Rose’s Roses if that wasn’t your name. What? Where’s the garden? Right over there, see?” He shifted her around the piled dirt, until she faced the plot he’d prepared. Then, he retrieved the pesticide jug. When he tossed the cap aside, she made more sounds. “You don’t get to talk to me any more, hateful florist lady.” Digby checked the duct tape connecting the hose and funnel. The seal was good. He lifted the funnel, about chest-high, and poured a steady, calculated stream from the jug. Rose began sweating, and her nose ran. He paused in appreciation, until she swung her head side-to-side and mucus flew. That was too much resistance. He poured more. She soiled herself and bucked convulsively in her bonds. When all was still, Digby recapped the jug. What remained at his feet was easy enough to roll into the waiting plot. He timed his shoveling to several rose-themed songs he hummed. Halfway through replanting the burrs and the potted roses, Digby sniggered.
The Gardens of Digby Green is a short story which posts on Fridays. Next week, part fourteen, You Poor Fool. Find a link to purchase Heartland Treasures anthology here.
Ruth DeMaat
Heidi Kortman
Krystine Kercher
Heidi Kortman