This page features short pieces of writing (fiction
or nonfiction) from writers who have attended my workshops or viewed my
web site. Submissions may be fiction or nonfiction, 700 words maximum,
and should be sent to gail@creativejourneys.net
for possible inclusion on web site. Writers should submit name,
address, phone number and word count with submission. No fee is paid;
however, if selected, story will run on my web site in this section.
Johnny's garden
by Jerri Hawks
Bay Center, Washington
November, 2009
Growing up next door to a man who liked to garden was more fun that you can imagine. His name was Johnny and he and I had sort of a tumultuous relationship. I was 13 in the summer of 1980 and he was 60 something. He loved to garden. I loved to eat. I would wait for the opportune time to sneak over to his garden and in a quick army crawl, maneuver myself between the peas and the strawberries. He had complained to my parents a few times, who gave me warnings of being grounded all summer, but I secretly think he liked the cat and mouse game.
One hot day in August, I watched out my kitchen window and saw Johnny heading out in his truck. Aha, time to raid the peas! As soon as he disappeared I snuck out the door. Mom was busy tending to the laundry and dad was nowhere in sight. The coast was clear. Getting into Johnny's garden was no easy task. It was a large cleared area, with an open school field on one side and the road on the other so I had to be really careful. Plus, Johnny's wife never left the house. I acted like I was just walking into the school yard, then back-tracked when no one was looking and made a b-line for the closest row, which happened to be the cucumbers. Lucky for me Johnny had planted the peas in the back row, which blocked my mom's view. I started eating cucumbers and carrots dirt and all, and then headed for the strawberries. I was laying in the dirt amid strewn carrots tops when I heard Johnny's truck coming back. I hesitated and then realized I had missed my chance for escape. There I was stuck in the middle of his garden with no way to escape. I was afraid to lift my head so I watched as his legs came my way and headed toward the shed. I was holding my breath as he went by. He hopped onto his riding lawnmower with a brown bag in his front pocket. I lay there in misery thinking there goes the rest of my summer. I looked around trying to find a way to escape but came up with nothing. He started mowing back and forth never giving me a passing glance. I lay there sweating bullets thinking any second he's bound to see me. Every so often he would get with in 3 feet of me drinking out of his brown bag.
It seemed like hours as I lay there in the hot sun with my belly full listening to the drone of the lawn mower going back and forth. The yard seemed to have turned into a hundred acres. I was getting a little sleepy and was just about ready to give myself up, when I decided to lift my head and take a peek. Johnny had his back to me, still mowing but he was leaning dangerously far to one side. The rows of mowed grass were anything but uniform, they were going this way and that way. Johnny looked like he was in danger of falling off the mower. I made a mad dash out of the garden and into my house and yelled for my dad. The next day Johnny's wife brought over a shopping bag full of fresh vegetables with a note thanking my dad for saving Johnny from what could have been a terrible accident.
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