Amelia's Secret

Amelia felt a jolt of annoyance and frustration as she noticed yet another tiny corpse in the corner of her living room. Though she wasn’t exactly squeamish, she still hated picking up dead mice. It made her skin crawl on instinct.

“Where are you, you murderer?”

It was the third time in the last three days that the cat brought a mouse. One each day! Where was he getting them? It was winter, didn’t mice hibernate? She didn’t know. But what she did know was that it was disgusting and very unhealthy for Simon and Alice, her three and four year old children.

Amelia picked the corpse of yet another one of the cat’s victims, holding it by the tail with her thumb and index finger. As she touched it, her skin crawled. God, she hated that feeling! She decided not to feed the damn cat as punishment. He can eat mice if he wants to live!

As she was washing her hands, having disposed of the mouse, Amelia felt a gentle rub against her calves. And a soft purr followed. 

“Oh, no you won’t!”

With hands still wet, dripping small pearls of water, she pointed an accusing finger at Lucky, her black and white cat.

“Bad kitty! Why do you keep bringing these in my living room? Am I not feeding you all the time?”

“Meow!” Lucky answered, tail raised, eyes darting from Amelia to the carton box of cat food, resting on the kitchen counter.

“No, I’m mad at you,” said Amelia and pushed him away gently with her foot. Lucky got insulted and hissed at her, running away.

“Stupid cat,” she mumled to herself and wiped her hands. She looked outside at the blizzard. It had been snowing intensely for the past few days and all the roads leading to town were blocked. The small community was essentially cut off from the rest of the world. That meant there would be no fresh supplies of veggies coming into town. 

And in such a crucial time, when she was establishing a veggie eating habit for her little ones. Oh well, perhaps they could go for a week or two without-

Lucky came back. With another victim inside his murderous little mouth, and this time it was a bird! And it’s wings were still flapping!

“No!” Amelia shouted. Where did he get a bird in this weather? The doors were all locked anyway, so he couldn’t have gone outside either… “Let that go! Spit it out!”

Lucky’s tail was snapping left and right, growling as Amelia came closer. 

“Don’t you growl at me, mister!” As she reached towards him, to grab at his neck skin, the cat dashed away, out the kitchen and into the hallway. Amelia went after him. She would not have a dead bird be hidden somewhere in her house.

She followed Lucky to the basement - for some reason the door was opened - and shouted to Lucky to drop the bird. Of course he didn’t drop it. Instead, the cat ran inside an old wardrobe.

Amelia cringed at how dirty the basement was, but was thankful that the cat ran into a dead end. She thought of closing the door and not letting him come out for a day, but she didn’t have the heart for it. Besides, he’d probably tear all the old clothes in that wardrobe, just to spite her.

“Come now, Lucky,” she said, slowly opening the wardrobe doors wide. “There’s nowhere for you to run. Drop the bird and I’ll feed you, okay?”

There was no response. Amelia frowned and reached in the wardrobe. There were alot of old clothes hanging from the bar and she pushed them aside, expecting to find Lucky tucked in a corner…

...but all she found was more clothes. How deep was this wardrobe? She didn’t quite remember ever using it, perhaps it was from Tom’s parents, before she moved in the house.

“You better not scratch these clothes, you stupid cat,” she said, while stepping into the wardrobe and pushing away more clothes. Tom’s mother would probably not be pleased to have her old clothes ruined.

Then, Amelia saw a glimpse of light. 

“What?” Was there a hole at the back of the wardrobe… and in the wall of their house? But it was the basement, how could it-

Amelia pushed away another set of old clothes and then fell forward on the ground. She didn’t stumble or trip, she fell from shock. There was no wall, no wardrobe, no basement, no nothing. She stumbled out from old clothes and onto a wide open field, sun shining and plants growing. 

She stood up, confused. Looking back, where she came from, there was an old wooden latrine with clothes hanging inside instead of a toilet pit. All around her was a vast field of vegetables; tomatoes, cucumber, paprika, zucchini, salad, onions, summer squash, and many many more, spreading in all directions.

I’ve hit my head and am hallucinating, she thought. 

There was no snow, no winter. It looked and felt like the height of summer. A pleasant breeze was blowing and the sun shone warm and bright. And the plants. Amelia never before saw such deep green colors. These plants looked healthy and delicious. Like they grew out of love itself.

Amelia knelt down and inspected a tomato plant. It’s leaves were perfectly green, no bugs or insects pestering, no brown spots from fungus or lack of nutrients. She touched a deep red tomato, feeling it’s hardness. It was just right; not too hard and not yet squishy. What is going on? Am I crazy?

She quickly turned around at a sound and noticed Lucky, chasing after a field mouse. The bird was already forgotten from his cat mind. So this is where he’s been getting them…

This was real. Unless her cat was also having hallucinations. Somehow, Amelia entered what looked to be the most abundant garden in the whole world, through an old wardrobe. Following her cat. 

I wonder if it’s okay to pick some plants. She was amazed by herself. Instead of panicking at the supernatural nature of the whole thing, she found herself thinking of making smoothies and vegetable soup for her little ones. 

Lucky brought mice, so I guess it’s okay. She glanced around. There was nobody to be seen for miles, only a vast, endless field of abundance.

She hesitated. Then she picked a tomato. The scent of a freshly broken stem was heavenly. Amelia waited for a few moments to see if something bad would happen. Since it didn’t, she picked some more. Soon enough, she held an armful of vegetables and could gather no more.

“Come Lucky, let’s get back.” 

The cat poked its head from a patch of potato plants, distracted from the hunt. The mice fled away, and he reluctantly waltzed over.

Amelia cocked her head as Lucky rubbed her legs. “You really are lucky, huh? Having found this field?”

“Meow!”

The two of them then stepped into the latrine, making their way through a jungle of hanging clothes, until they were back in the basement. Amelia’s heart eased. She was back home and her arms were full of fresh juicy vegetables.

What just happened? She had no idea. But it was exciting!

She couldn’t wait to feed the vegetables to her children. And to tell everybody about it. 

First, she texted Tom, her husband, who was away fighting the snow with the road crew. 

You won’t believe what I found!!!

They she took pictures of the vegetables and posted them on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook, typing below: #WintertimeInAlaska.

When the world knew, she set to work, preparing a delicious meal from what she brought from the field. The smells alone were heavenly, as she grilled some sliced onions and paprika, cooked some mashed potatoes, sliced the fresh tomatoes and mixed them with green leaf salad. When the meal was done, she called her kids and they all ate.

It was the most delicious, stomach soothing and satiating meal she ever had. And the little ones loved it as well, which surprised her. Usually they would bicker if there was too much green on their plate, but this time they seemed to genuinely enjoy it!

Not long after, Amelia’s social media feed filled up with likes, comments and shares. People from the whole town wanted to know where she got fresh vegetables at this time, with the roads blocked and the blizzard raging.

They were wondering if they could buy some from her. And Amelia felt a rush of excitement enter her body. I could share! Earn some money for a family vacation somewhere warm!

With the dishes still wet from a hasty clean up, Amelia rushed back to the basement with shopping bags and plastic crates. She was going to feed the whole town!

***

A few days passed and Amelia already established a solid line of recurring customers; mostly neighbours and friends, who came to her doorstep every day, and leaving with bags of fresh vegetables from her ‘Mysterious Backyard’. Amelia decided it was best to keep the secret to herself and she would tell Tom in person when he comes back. The blizard demanded his constant presence at work.

Amelia would visit the field five times a day, sometimes even more, harvesting like there was no tomorrow. And the best thing was, that every time she returned, the plants she already picked would grow back. Like she never picked them in the first place!

She even stopped caring if Lucky brought another mouse and left it in the corner when he was done playing. There was an endless field of goodies to be harvested! And the money wasn’t that bad either, though it did feel a little dirty. But the delicious taste of food all but made up for it.

Amelia wondered when she should stop, before people got too suspicious, but when offers came from stores that they wanted her as their supplier, the question of stopping was out the window. Soon, the whole town was buying vegetables from the magical field. And judging by the satisfied reactions of customers, when the blizzard is finally over, it seemed she would continue to sell. 

She could hardly believe it.

“Lucky! Come, let’s go!” 

It was time for another harvest as the demands were getting higher. When Tom comes back she’ll need his help too. Amelia made a habit of bringing Lucky with her each time she went through the wardrobe. He was the original discoverer of the field, after all, her Lucky charm.

She left the basement behind and stepped out from the latrine, onto the field of abundance. As usual, the warm sun and a light breeze greeted her, along with the delightful scent of a plentiful yield. She set her bags and crates to the ground and brought out a big list of things she needed to take with her.

“Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries… Carrots, lettuce, cale… Onions, tomatoes, cucumbers-”

Suddenly, Amelia froze. She heard a sound. It was not her cat. Raising her eyes from the list, she glanced around until she noticed a figure of a man some distance away.

Her heart sank. 

Did someone else discover the field too?

If so, then the person had to come from somewhere else, as Amelia made sure to keep her house securely locked.

Gingerly, she walked through the field, avoiding stepping on any of the plants and approached the man. He looked like a farmer, wearing dirt covered boots, sun worn blue jeans and a sleeveless white shirt. His neck and back were slouched, as if from a lifetime of bending and working the fields. He didn’t look like someone who would just stumble onto this place like she did. 

He looked like he owned it.

Amelia swallowed hard and stopped a few feet from the man. Only now she noticed how old he was, his skin wrinkled and dried from the sun, his movement slow and strained. He held a large brown sack and moved through the field, now and then sprinkling the sack contents onto the soil with his hand.

Before she was able to say anything, the man groaned, with a raspy voice. “So much work to be done, the whole field fertilized. But all they do is take, take, take… So tired…”

A sudden sharp sense of guild cut through her.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice timid. “Are you the owner of this field?”

The old man barely turned his head enough to glance at her once, before turning back to his work.

“I am the last of my family. This field has been ours for generations… We took care of it. While everyone else only took, took, took…”

Amelia stood there, with a list of things to pick longer than the man’s withered hair. She never before felt such guilt in her life.

“I…” What was she going to say? That she didn’t know the field belonged to someone? That she didn’t even care if it did? That she was selling this man’s hard earned harvest as if it were her own?

“I…”

“So tired… The price is too much…”

“I can help you if you want,” she blurted, in a moment of overpowering sense of guilt. She couldn’t let this poor man work all by himself. If she is already taking the vegetables she might as well do something for them.

The man turned his weary head and looked at her. A single tear ran from his eye, quickly soaked up by the dry skin of his cheek.

“No one has ever offered to help… they only took, took, took…”

“I… I also took. But I know I shouldn’t have. So I want to help, to make it up to you.” 

It was difficult to look into those pained eyes of the old man, but she held the gaze, knowing it was the right thing to do.

“Help, yes…” the man whispered, his face relaxing for the briefest of moments. Then, his pain returned, and a look of fear crossed his eyes.

“No!” he said. “Go back, while you still can! I am beyond help! The price is too much…”

He turned and continued spraying a powdery substance onto the soil, fertilizing it.

Amelia’s heartbeat quickened.

“What do you mean, while I still can? What price?”

She felt an unexplainable sense of something being terribly wrong here. She pointed at the man’s bag, looking how the man moaned in pain each time he released a hand of fertilizer.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Fertilizer,” the man whispered, his voice nearly overpowered by the gentle breeze. “Baby powder.”

Amelia frowned. “What, like talcum powder, but for plants?”

The man seemed too tired to even shake his head. “Ashes of burnt starving children.”

Amelia dropped the list. She stumbled backwards.

Ashes…

She couldn’t breathe.

Ashes of burnt…

...of burnt…

She thought of her two little ones.

The man sprayed another fistfull of fertilizer, letting it fall on the soil, some of it hitting the glistening purple surface of a juicy eggplant.

...of burnt starving children!

“So tired…”

Amelia’s stomach twisted. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, wanting to escape the person who fed her own children with food fertilized by the ashes of-

Amelia ran. She stepped all over the plants, squishing ripe tomatoes and crunching fresh lettuce. She didn’t care, she wanted to get out of this field, this hell.

She dashed into the latrine, pushing and tearing through the old clothes, until she jumped out of the wardrobe in her basement. She closed the wardrobe doors, barricading them with whatever she could find; charis, boxes and brooms. Then she ran upstairs.

Lucky, who luckily managed to run back with her, was in the kitchen, vomiting. Amelia’s stomach twisted again, but she was so horrified she kept it down. 

My children. I fed them-

Sounds of crying and coughing came like spears through her heart. Amelia ran into the living room and found her son and daughter there, on the floor, barf around their mouths. Their faces were red from crying and green from sickness.

At the same time her phone buzzed on the table. She went over, to dial 911, and saw the social media news feed by accident. 

The whole town was sick.

Amelia’s head began to spin. Her stomach growled and tied into a knot, preventing her from standing. She could feel the food she ate from the field, bubbling inside, rising up. It felt rotten, decayed, so wrong and horrible. It made her sick not only on the level of her body, but on the level of her soul.

Alice, who was one year older than Simon, tried comforting her little brother, but they both looked miserable, crouching in pain on the floor. Amelia wanted to help them, but she couldn’t. Her stomach demanded she release the foulness. 

She gathered all her strength and pulled herself to the bathroom. And listening to the rest of her family barfing, Amelia raised her head over the toilet and let it all out.

***

A few hours later, as she rested in a hospital bed because of food poisoning, her husband Tom holding her hand, and her two children resting in beds next to her’s, Amelia finally decided to speak.

“Tom?” Her voice was weak, but more from shame than sickness.

She felt him squeeze her hand tighter. “Yes, honey?” She loved the fact that he came immediately when she told him what happened, despite his job.

“Tom, am I a selfish bitch?”

He looked at her confused, not expecting the question.

“No, of course not.”

“Then why do I feel like one?”

He hesitated. It was all the proof she needed. 

She sighed and closed her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat vegetables again.”