Don't Stop and Smell the Flowers

Juniper stood, hands on her ample hips, smiling down at a mound of loose dirt. She'd just finished poking her finger into the soft dirt one to two inches apart, dropping different flower seeds into the holes and softly spreading the dirt back over them. The dark brown soil stood out like a stain along the white brick of the house, but soon beautiful wildflowers would be poking out, decorating her front lawn.

She held her dirty hands up to inhale the wet earthy smell of the dirt as the soft hum of a motor approached in the distance. She turned to see Mr. McMahon's red Volkswagen turn into the neighborhood. She waved as he passed by, but he stared forward as though he didn't see her.

She looked across the street where her neighbor, Betty Cocheran, had a yard full of beautiful blooming flowers. Purple impatiens, large red and yellow bougainvillea, a bush bursting with pink azaleas, and another with green hydrangeas.

"Hmph," she grunted, crossing her arms over her chest as she shook her head in disgust at Betty's laziness in hiring someone to plant the flowers. If she had any talent, she'd grow from seed like Juniper did.

"Can't hide money," she said softly to the tabby cat that wound between her legs. She bent down to pet the little cat and gently pushed it out of the way, starting for the door to the house.

"Pffttt!" The cat hissed and spit, the hairs on its back raised, its teeth bared at something in the mound of dirt. In the middle of her flower bed, a tiny green shoot poked up way too soon for anything to have grown. Nothing grew that fast.

Juniper bent close and reached out to touch the baby shoot, convinced it was anything but a new shoot. Juniper snatched her hand back as if she'd been bit, falling hard on her bottom when it moved another inch out of the ground. Stranger, yet, was the dirt below the shoot. Was it moving?

Juniper balled up her fists and rubbed her eyes hard enough to make spots appear. Once the spots cleared, she could see the dirt did not move, but at the tip of the shoot grew a tight green spiral, a fiddlehead. She sat staring, hands on her knees, watching the fiddlehead, waiting for it to grow again.

After several minutes, Juniper rolled to her knees and pushed herself up. Her joints crackled as she stood, and she paused to catch her breath. Then, convinced the shoot wasn't going to grow in any more unnatural ways and partially convinced that she might be losing her mind, she went back into her house.

A nap, I need a nap. I'm just tired, and my imagination is playing tricks with me. Juniper refused to look at the flower bed, writing off the movement as momentary insanity.

********************

A thunderclap woke Juniper from her nap, chasing away the memory of the little fiddlehead pushing itself out of the earth. She stood from the couch and looked out the window to see dark storm clouds threatening rain. Across the street, Betty stood in her driveway staring at Juniper's house, her mouth agape and eyes wide.

What is that nosy old lady staring at my house for? She looks like she's seen a ghost. 

Juniper stood facing the window to give Betty her "evil eye" to let her know she'd been caught snooping, but Betty didn't seem to notice. Finally, Juniper pulled open the door and stepped outside, waving at Betty. 

"Betty! Didn't your Momma teach you it's impolite to stare? Get back in your house, ya ol' hag!"

Betty looked at Juniper and pointed towards the newly planted flower bed.

"Juniper, what kinda fresh new hell is that?" asked Betty. "Have you lost your mind, ya ol bag o' bones?"

Juniper turned towards the flower bed, and her jaw dropped. The small fiddlehead she'd been sure she imagined grew into something she'd never seen before.

Nothing can grow like that. I'm not imagining it if Betty can see that. Unless I'm imagining Betty? 

She turned toward Betty and yelled across the street, "Not funny, Betty! Keep your gardener in your own lazy yard, crone!"

Betty pointed a finger at her chest and raised her eyebrows, "As if I'd spend a penny of my pension on your run-down excuse of a yard!" Then she spun around, pushing her rollator walker up the drive.

"At least I'm not a lazy codger that hires someone to do my yard," Juniper yelled to Betty. Betty slowly made her way to her door, and she didn't bother to turn around as she lifted one hand and flipped Juniper the bird.

"Hmmph," said Juniper and turned back to the flower bed. Green fronds shot up in clusters about two feet apart, wrapping around each other up and up until the two groups grew together in what looked like legs and a torso. Little fiddleheads poked out in different places along the plant.

"Kaboom!" another thunderclap rang out, making Juniper jump. Then, without warning, dime-sized hail dropped from the dark clouds, pelting Juniper. She put her hands up to protect her head and ran back to the house.

What in the world is happening? Am I dreaming? But the sting from the hail told Juniper she was awake better than pinching herself could have.

She pondered the chance someone had played a joke on her. She figured Betty was too cheap and lazy to be a culprit. Mr. McMahon's up-to-no-good kid could be the culprit. She felt certain Mr. McMahon did not like her, though, in her defense, all she ever wanted to do was protect her neighborhood. She tried to get an edict passed where the HOA banned families with kids, especially teenagers, but they shot her idea down immediately, the idiots.

She only knew their last name, McMahons, from the yard sign she spotted through her binoculars. It looked like a Publisher's Clearing House Check. Bold letters spelled out McMahon Family in the "Pay to the order of" portion and priceless written in the "dollars section." She never saw a Mrs.or another Mr. McMhon, and by the looks of his daughter and her risqué choice of clothing, the kid could have used a second parent. Up-to-no-good teenagers constantly were coming and going from the McMahon house.

***************

Juniper remembered a time about a year ago when she had no choice but to call the cops. Cars lined up along the street, dispensing loud, laughing, no-good teenagers. She saw Mr. McMahon through her binoculars when he walked up her driveway and knocked on her door later that night. She opened the main door, leaving the screen door locked. For her safety, of course.

"Did you call the cops?" he asked her. She looked him up and down. It was worse than she suspected; he approved of these parties.

"Of course I did! It's 8:00 pm. Parties this late can only mean one thing. Underage drinking leads to fighting, thieving, and all kinds of no-good things. You should be ashamed!"

He cut her off, his hand raised. "It is a birthday party for my daughter. She's sixteen. And as if it's any of your business, there's no drinking. You should have seen that through your binoculars," he told her.

"Binoculars? Well! I never!" Juniper said, raising a hand to her heart. 

Mr. McMahon sighed, "Fine, I'm sorry. But please, don't call the police. These are good kids; they aren't doing anything wrong."

"If someone is in my yard, I'm calling them. And they better not park in front of my house."

He thanked her, promising no one would be in her yard. She heard him mutter as he walked away, "God forbid someone blocks her view of the neighborhood." 

***************

Yes-sir-ree, I bet they're snickering about pulling one over on me. I won't give them the satisfaction of trying to tear it down or even acting like I noticed. If the HOA committee comes by tomorrow, I'll tell them they better go talk to that family. Proof that they shouldn't allow kids in the neighborhood. 

As the storm charged through the night, Juniper slept soundly, convinced the McMahons would get what was coming to them. She awoke early; her five cats meowed and climbed over her, ready for breakfast.

While her breakfast twirled around in the microwave, she yanked open the curtains. Something felt off. The sun would not rise for another hour, but the streetlight didn't light up the room. She peered out the window and could see that something blocked the window.

What now? She left her breakfast in the microwave, forgotten, and went outside to see the McMahon's latest parlor trick.

What was once only a green torso and legs had grown through the night. The vines and ferns wound together to form the shape of a woman. The green woman bent at the waist; her arm extended as if she reached to pluck something out of the dirt. While the green woman stood very still, the ground beneath writhed and pulsated.

Juniper turned away and looked towards the McMahon's home, fully expecting the family to be on their lawn laughing at her expense. But the neighborhood stood quiet. She turned back and realized she could hear grinding and squelching as the ground continued to churn.

Then she noticed the tiny flowers that decorated the body of the green woman, the most beautiful flowers she'd ever seen. They appeared to change colors from yellow to blue to pink. She reached out to stroke the soft petals, and the flower grew larger. She bent forward, bringing her nose to the floor, wondering if the scent could be as beautiful as the flower. She inhaled the soft, floral smell reminiscent of a rose mixed with citrus. A gust of wind swept through, and yellow pollen burst into her face. She sneezed and, looking back at the flower, saw that it had turned a deep crimson. She smiled in awe at its beauty.

The ground still writhed, and she noticed something pale poking out of the earth. A root, perhaps? She bent down, brushing the dirt away as a hand emerged from the soil. Green vines moved around it, but she recognized the large, gaudy diamond ring that adorned one finger.

"Oh my! Betty! Betty?" Juniper fell to her knees and dug at the soft earth until she unearthed Betty's face. Betty's eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful as if she'd decided to nap in the flower bed's soft earth. Juniper pulled at the vines as they cut her hands with hundreds of tiny paper cuts.

"Oh, Betty! What do I do? Help! Help!" she hollered, looking around. Then she saw what she'd expected to see earlier. On the Mcmahons' lawn, next to their ridiculous yard sign, stood Mr. McMahon and his no-good teenage daughter. They held binoculars up to their eyes and waved, broad smiles on their faces.

"Help!" she yelled out to them. "Don't you see what's happening?"

Is this happening? Am I dreaming? This can't be real.

A drowsy feeling came over Juniper then, and she turned back to the flower bed to help Betty somehow. But she could no longer see Betty, and the ground no longer pulsed. If not for the green lady, Juniper would have thought nothing out of place.

Yes, I should probably talk to Dr. Green. Maybe my meds need to be changed. I think I'll take a nap. Naps make everything better. 

Juniper moved to get up, but something tugged at her hand. She looked down to see a vine gently wrapped around her wrist; a flower grew as if she wore a flower watch. She gently touched the flower, and yellow pollen coated her finger when she pulled away. She brought her finger to her nose to inhale the intoxicating scent, then put her finger in her mouth.

Ah, yes, it's definitely time for a nap. 

Juniper lay down in the soft dirt at the green woman's legs. She looked up at the face of vines and it gave her a comforting smile before it spoke.

"Sleep, my dear, sleep well."

Juniper closed her eyes as the ground began to writhe again, and vines wrapped around her body, pulling her underneath.

***************

Mr. McMahon, Ted to his friends, dropped the binoculars and looked at Lily.

"Happy 17th, honey. Thought I'd teach you about the green woman today. As you can see, her flowers are hazardous."

"Thanks, Dad. It's too bad about Mrs. C. She made the best oatmeal craisin cookies," said Lily smiling up at her dad.

Ted laughed and winked at his daughter. "Curiosity killed the cat. Ha! That's what got old lady Juniper too. Do you remember how we kill the green woman? We have to cover our tracks."

Lily thought for a moment. "Yes, sir. We must pull her up by the roots. Then she and any of her kills will wither away and die, leaving no trace. Not even teeth? Or bone?"

"That's right. Nothing will be left. Now let's go do some gardening, sweetheart. And don't forget, do not stop and smell the flowers."