The Magic Garden: A Beginning

The sultry and sweet fragrance of well loved gardenias made Adam stop in his tracks. The teacher was walking home from the school, but today the warmth of May had inspired him to take a different and longer route home. This new route took him past rows of townhouses and patio homes, into a section of road with a mix of small and grand houses, both new and old.

He closed his eyes and took in the fresh scent of the gardenias, letting his magic draw him to the source of the fragrant flowers. Like following a well-worn path, he crossed the street and came to stand in front of a simple sage-colored cottage. The home itself was small and quaint with steps leading up to a hanging swing on the front porch, the brown front door faded from too many years in the sun. A few small windows lined each side of the front door, but (charming as it was) the house itself was unremarkable. In reality what truly stood out about the home was that you could hardly even see it. A row of lovely, sweet smelling English Dogwoods grew at the base of the home, untrimmed and unruly in a way, but their wild growth made them even more charming. At one corner of the small house grew a wisteria tree, taller and more lush than any Adam had seen before. The tree grew up and its vines branched out to cover and drape much of the front of the home. The effect was enchanting, and Adam could do nothing but stop and stare at the scene. How was it that he had never noticed this place before?

Adam’s magic was rooted in nature, enhancing his senses and allowing him to mold and shape elements, but not destroy them. His work as a chemistry teacher at the high school allowed him to continually learn more himself, but also to teach young minds about both the beauty and danger of different elements. His students were bright young minds and he loved his work, but he had never met another magician during his short tenure in the city. 

This raised an important question–who lived in this home? The gardenias that had originally stopped him in his tracks were nowhere to be seen, hinting that the back of the home contained even more of this magical garden. Adam debated his options and next steps, feeling uncertain how to approach another magician or if he should in turn reveal himself. While the general public was unaware of the existence of magic, there certainly was benefit and community in individual magicians knowing one another.

Before he could second guess himself, Adam approached the house and knocked on the front door. He waited just a few moments before a young girl of about ten or eleven with green eyes and brown curly hair answered the door.

She looked at him quizzically for half a moment before asking politely, “Hello, can I help you sir?”

“Hello there. I’m sorry to bother you,” Adam started, “and I feel like this is a little unusual. I was walking home and I noticed how beautiful the wisteria and dogwoods are, and I smell the most amazing gardenias even though I can’t see them. Is perhaps one of your parents in charge of the garden and flowers?”

“You can smell the gardenias?” She asked skeptically, ignoring his question.

“I have a good nose,” Adam replied with a smile.

The girl looked him up and down, and once she seemed to determine that he was not crazy and seemed genuinely interested in the flora, she brightened up and replied, “It’s my garden and there is more in the back! My name is Emma.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Emma. Everything looks very beautiful,” Adam complimented, gesturing to the wisteria and dogwoods. “My name is Adam Rosenthorn, and I teach chemistry at the high school. I live just a few streets away, but I just so happened to walk home this way today and couldn’t help but stop.”

Just then, a voice called out from inside the house. “Emma? Who’s at the door?” 

“Someone who can smell my garden!” Emma called out excitedly to the voice.

A moment later, a tall woman who looked like an older version of Emma came to stand over her shoulder. “Someone who can what?” She asked, looking confused at Emma and then at Adam.

“This is Mr. Adam! He’s a teacher and was walking by and he can smell the flowers!”

Adam laughed at her enthusiasm, and held out his hand to the older woman. “I apologize for intruding, but I was walking by and caught the most amazing scent of gardenia and couldn’t help but notice how lovely the house is.” He repeated his name and credentials for the woman as they shook hands.

The woman seemed to relax a bit as the mystery of who the man was who had shown up unexpectedly at her door was solved.

“Hello, Mr. Rosenthorn, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Teresa White, I’m Emma’s mother. I actually work at the middle school as the librarian.” Teresa had a kind and warm face and Adam could tell where Emma got her obvious good nature from. 

“Do you want to see the rest of the garden?!” Emma asked excitedly.

Adam smiled and replied, “Only if it’s no trouble–I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Emma looked up at her mother for consent, and Teresa just laughed and said, “Lead the way, Captain.”

Emma yelled with delight and bounded around the side to the back of the house. A small gate opened through an arbor to the garden, and the whole scene was more than he could bear. Spires of hollyhock and foxglove flowers lined the exterior of the whole garden in every shade of purple, pink, and blue that you could imagine. A large bed in the middle of the garden housed the delightful gardenias–the scent was even more intoxicating now that Adam was standing a few feet away from them. In a far corner, a tall and lush weeping willow overhung a bench, creating a kind of quiet sanctuary. All around, completing the scene and filling in every spare plot of dirt was every imaginable species of flower from blue hydrangeas to pink peonies, each and every one growing and thriving in this little garden. In the midst of it all, Emma ran and laughed and sang, full of boundless enthusiasm and energy.

Everywhere Adam turned was like looking at a painting.

And he knew–Emma, the laborer of this beautiful garden, had magic. The way that every leaf and petal had a life and story and song left no doubt in Adam’s mind. The question was whether or not Emma knew of her own gift. 

Trying to find a way to broach the subject, Adam turned to Teresa. “Where did Emma learn to care for plants so well? Do you or her father have a love for gardening?”

Teresa gave a sad smile before replying, “Emma’s father is gone. He died when she was very young–I doubt she even remembers him. But I’m not much of a gardener; in fact, I kill most plants that I see. But Emma, she has a gift with nature and flowers. She just has this way of making things grow. Her father had the same gift…” Teresa drifted off at the end of the sentence, as if she was lost in some long forgotten memory.

So a family trait, Adam thought. She got it from him. It was after all, most common for magic to be inherited from parent to child, although there were theories that it could skip generations and pop back up when it was long forgotten that there had been any magic in the family.

 Teresa’s gaze was distant for a few moments before she blinked and returned to their conversation, smiling at Adam. “Well, it certainly has made her happy today to have someone to show it all to. Thank you for entertaining her.”

“Oh, the pleasure is mine,” Adam said. “After all, I’m the one who came and knocked on your door.”

He sensed that it was time for him to leave, but he still wanted to broach the subject of Emma’s magic. Adam knew that there was a good chance that Teresa would never let him speak to Emma again, but also, what if she knew? What if she suspected that Emma had a gift, just like she said her father did? It was highly likely that he would be labeled a mad man and asked to leave forever, but also perhaps not. He could teach Emma, help her learn and grow into her abilities. And it had been a long time since he had met any other magicians–he was eager to get to know Emma, to mentor and help her in her gift. 

Adam took a deep breath and spoke.

“I know that Emma has magic.” He said bluntly, the words coming out in a rush before he could rethink his incredible lack of a plan. Teresa looked at him with wide eyes as her mouth dropped open. Since she hadn’t screamed at him yet to leave, Adam pressed on. “I know that Emma has magic, because I have magic and I can sense hers. And I don’t know if you even know or think that magic is real, but it is, and it’s not frightening, it’s beautiful, and I have it and I can tell that Emma has it and I just want to help.”

Adam finally stopped to take a breath of air. 

Teresa continued to stare at him for what seemed like an eternity, seemingly attempting to either read his mind or boil his brains. 

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered. “It’s not my place and this surely must seem crazy to you. I’d better go,” he finished sheepishly as he began to turn and walk out of the garden. 

He had barely made it a half a step before Teresa called to him. 

“Wait!” She called. “Wait. You’re right. Emma does have magic, I know. I knew that her father had magic, and I could tell that Emma had a gift, but I never had anyone to tell who could help her. She knows that she’s good with plants and trees and flowers, but I’m not even certain that she knows that there’s something special about her. But she’s smart–I’m sure she’ll figure it out.” 

Adam breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing and letting go of his fear. “If you’d allow me to visit again, I’d like to help her. I feel like I could help her.”

Teresa’s face and shoulders relaxed with an obvious flood of relief and calm. “Thank you, Mr. Rosenthorn. That would be much appreciated.”

At that, the two adults settled in to watch as Emma continued to frolic and run in her garden. Adam could have been imagining it, but it seemed to him that the flowers and plants were drawn to her like she was a magnet. And she was. She was a magician, possessor of magic to heal and grow and give life. And Adam anticipated greatly getting to help her in her journey.