The Gardens of Digby Green: Pavers
Digby Green drove the delivery truck onto the Roseland Garden Supply lot. For the last week, he’d been stuck doing two-man jobs with Tim. Three of those days, they’d planted a lilac hedge around the grounds of a local nursing home. Tim not only had no use for a leisurely pace or for taking roundabout, scenic routes between jobs, but also rushed through the work, and was no perfectionist.
I’ve had it with that guy and with lilac bushes. If he keeps it up, I’ll make him a garden.
Digby sighed, dropped out of the truck cab, and slammed the driver’s door. Another itch built, triggered by the second garden he’d made in this town. It really was time to move on. Each night, before sleeping, he compulsively searched the cab and bed of his pickup, assuring himself that he’d left no evidence for anyone to notice.
“Digby!”
He glanced back as Tim waved a clipboard in the direction of the building.
“Get the big dolly. We’re delivering pavers next.”
Digby changed direction. “I’m gonna make him do all the heavy lifting, see if I don’t.”
Wheels shimmied and squawked as he rolled the dolly through the sliding doors that led to the outdoor displays. The sound drew the manager’s attention, and Digby felt the fellow’s disapproving glare. No way was the racket his fault. If the guy didn’t want to be embarrassed by the equipment, he should keep it in better repair.
Outside, things were no better, as one customer after another tracked his progress past flats of pansies and petunias, until he propelled the dolly around the corner where the stacked pavers waited. He toed the brakes into the Locked position.
Three slabs at a time, Tim started loading a layer of pavers in gray, rust, and cream. “Customer wants a herring-bone pattern in random colors. You got a hammer and chisel to break these things to fit?”
Random colors. Digby shuddered. “Nope.”
If he did, Digby might have put them to use on Tim’s skull.
Instead, he asked “How big an area is this supposed to be?”
“Eighty feet square. Can you believe it?”
Digby backed away. “We’ll need bedding sand. I’ll go load that into the truck.” Running the fork lift kept him from having to listen to Tim.
The Gardens of Digby Green is a serialized story that posts on Fridays.
Next week, part forty, Notice.
Find a link to purchase Heartland Treasures anthology here.
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