COMING SOON
prologue
Katy – fifteen years old
“It’s just going to die,” I groaned, wiping the perspiration from my forehead with my dirty palm.
“All you do is complain, Katy May,” Jeb stated, his voice straining from age.
“Everything dies, Jeb.”
He turned to look at me, sinking his knees into the soil. “But not everything lives.”
I rolled my eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Is that supposed to be clever?”
He shook his head, the paper-thin skin around his eyes crinkling as he smirked. “No, just a fact.”
“Well, so is this plant dying. Its fact and no amount of sunlight is going to save it.” I glanced around the small garden. We sat cushioned between a few Big Boy tomato plants and what Jeb said was watermelon, but I was pretty sure they were just old sunflower seeds. His eyesight wasn’t the best, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him. I would just have to pick some up from the store later and plant them at night.
“We gotta try, Martha.”
I stopped smoothing the dirt around the base of the cannabis plant. “What?”
“What?” He shot back, oblivious to my concern.
“You called me Martha.”
“I did not,” he snapped, his eyes wide with anger.
“You did. You just called me Martha. You know who I am, right?”
“Of course I know you’re not Martha. She’s been dead going on ten years,” he grumbled. “And she didn’t complain when we tended the garden.” He pushed from the ground, groaning as he stretched to his feet.
“Martha didn’t grow weed, Jeb.”
“It’s not weed. It’s medicine. Weeds are those things popping up around my ‘maters that you keep forgetting to pull.”
“Well, right now it is as good as dead.”
He waved his hand, turning from me and making his way slowly back to the house. “You kids these days just don’t know the value of hard work. It’s good for you. Makes you strong… healthy…” his voice trailed off as he held the banister, laboring to pull himself up the three steps to the back door.
“If that were true you’d be invincible,” I muttered, my fingers tracing one of the wilted pot leaves. I swiped away a wayward tear, shaking my head and causing my wild, curly blonde hair to brush across the soil. Jeb was strong and stubborn, but he was also pushing ninety, and I was the only thing standing between him and an assisted living facility. They couldn’t help him like I could.
Katy – fifteen years old
“It’s just going to die,” I groaned, wiping the perspiration from my forehead with my dirty palm.
“All you do is complain, Katy May,” Jeb stated, his voice straining from age.
“Everything dies, Jeb.”
He turned to look at me, sinking his knees into the soil. “But not everything lives.”
I rolled my eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Is that supposed to be clever?”
He shook his head, the paper-thin skin around his eyes crinkling as he smirked. “No, just a fact.”
“Well, so is this plant dying. Its fact and no amount of sunlight is going to save it.” I glanced around the small garden. We sat cushioned between a few Big Boy tomato plants and what Jeb said was watermelon, but I was pretty sure they were just old sunflower seeds. His eyesight wasn’t the best, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him. I would just have to pick some up from the store later and plant them at night.
“We gotta try, Martha.”
I stopped smoothing the dirt around the base of the cannabis plant. “What?”
“What?” He shot back, oblivious to my concern.
“You called me Martha.”
“I did not,” he snapped, his eyes wide with anger.
“You did. You just called me Martha. You know who I am, right?”
“Of course I know you’re not Martha. She’s been dead going on ten years,” he grumbled. “And she didn’t complain when we tended the garden.” He pushed from the ground, groaning as he stretched to his feet.
“Martha didn’t grow weed, Jeb.”
“It’s not weed. It’s medicine. Weeds are those things popping up around my ‘maters that you keep forgetting to pull.”
“Well, right now it is as good as dead.”
He waved his hand, turning from me and making his way slowly back to the house. “You kids these days just don’t know the value of hard work. It’s good for you. Makes you strong… healthy…” his voice trailed off as he held the banister, laboring to pull himself up the three steps to the back door.
“If that were true you’d be invincible,” I muttered, my fingers tracing one of the wilted pot leaves. I swiped away a wayward tear, shaking my head and causing my wild, curly blonde hair to brush across the soil. Jeb was strong and stubborn, but he was also pushing ninety, and I was the only thing standing between him and an assisted living facility. They couldn’t help him like I could.
