Green
He became a burden.
No one in the family would ax the canker to save the tree. After the first stroke, a brain stem falters to tap memory, halts at sensory signals, and then tires.
If tissue plasminogen activator is administered immediately, the clot breaks its root-hold on the mind. But, however, unfortunately, the doctors misdiagnosed the stroke as a sinus infection. Harry was sent home with antibiotics until his left side fails him the following morning in the orchard. There he remains on the ground for a day. The heat of the sun blisters his lips until a neighbor driving by notices the crows, the silly creatures he once fed peanuts, sitting vigil with the Golden Retriever. The dog leads the neighbor to Harry's body. The neighbor calls for help.
From respirator to "recovery" in a year, Harry returns home. Doctors warn him: the insurance ran out and he can not live alone. The son cannot move back to Tennessee, and his daughter has children of her own to raise. After visits, the family finds a woman who lives across the creek to bring meals and check on Harry daily.
He takes to drinking like a sunflower to the light. Gold Scotch was an old friend. Harry curses the son and tells the daughter she's no good. Days after, Harry wonders why he blurts cruel words. He plans to do better but finds himself screaming at the crows. He no longer can toss the peanuts. His days pass slowly.
The kudzu vines take over the metal roof of the garage. The wind steals shingles from the roof. Harry lets the farm go.
One afternoon the neighbor crosses the rocks on the stream that divides their properties. She wears a green apron with meandering wildflowers brimming in the pockets. She opens the front door carrying a basket. The smell of creamy garlic and butter noodles escapes from the wicker container. Harry stumbles to his feet to serve himself a bowl. The woman stops him.
"I brought a tincture for you Harry."
He grunts a negative sound.
"If you try this I'll bring an apple pie tomorrow. Got a new crop."
He nods.
"Put seven drops of the liquid under your tongue seven times a day. IF you touch the dropper to your mouth, rinse it with clean water from the creek and place back in the bottle."
Harry nods again, wishing she leaves him. When the screen door bumps behind her, Harry scoops a bowl of chicken and noodles from the glass dish. The gooey sauce drips on the tile counter. He doesn't stop to clean the spill, he enjoys the warm meal. After making a mess on his shirt, he shuffles to the sink to take a wet sponge to the drips. Then he returns to the basket. There's a note with instructions. A clear glass bottle with emerald colored liquid and a cork stopper. In the basket is a long-nosed eye dropper. He swirls the fluid which has the viscosity of Scotch with the color of moss. What can it hurt? He drops six, then one more underneath his tongue. It is a difficult procedure to hold the applicator and keep his mouth open at the same moment. As soon as the mixture hits his senses he recalls cutting herbs in his Grandmother's garden for the market. The aroma of a waterfall hiking in the army also comes to mind. Thyme and bitter melon touch the parts of his tongue. He collapses on the worn sofa and falls asleep.
Now he dreams of duck hunting a century ago. His younger brother and Uncle jog through the grass to reach the bind before sunrise. In the dream his brother is not shot, he warns him of the impending accident and they live happy lives. Then a gunshot awakens Harry. He sits up on the sofa now damp from sweat. The sound echoes from the road, perhaps it was the noise of a backfire from the backhoe in the cemetery.
Harry finds the elixir bottle and takes seven more drops. This time he takes the directions seriously and places the bottle in the cooler, and rinses the dropper. Harry splashes water from the sink on his face. His cheeks flush. In the light from the kitchen window, he examines his left hand. The fingers curl in a fist, but the thumb moves more flexible. He continues the regimen but begins exercising his hands on a lime colored tennis ball that Honey offers wet with saliva.
The next day the neighbor arrives with her basket. She brings out a tanned pie with a lattice top. The sugar still bubbling with the cinnamon.
She smiles when she finds the tincture in the refrigerator down about a half cup.
"I'll bring more. This is enough for two or three more days."
She asks nothing of him today only waves goodbye.
Harry is happy not to try and speak in a funny muffle. He continues the drops and finds improvement in the next two days. He now presses the tennis ball in his bad hand. The dog follows the movement in anticipation of old time fun.
Weeks pass as Harry soaks seeds for the fall garden. He holds the hoe with both hands. A caterpillar crawling on the tomatoes reminds him of his daughter catching butterflies as a girl. Harry invites her and the children to visit.
The green tincture opens doors, not good as new but alive.
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| the creek |
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| the cemetery |
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| kudzu vines |
