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Good-bye: True gardening stories relating to love, life and gardening

The buckskin road was how I always remembered it as I drove slowly across the white sand to my late grandmother's house. I could feel my muscles tense, it was almost as if the scent of fresh mowed hay and warm sunshine took me once again to the back seat of a dark state owned sedan. I remembered the dark car smelled of the tart pickled hamburger I had just eaten. I subconsciously licked my lips remembering the sweet sticky taste of my first soda on my tongue. But it was the buckskin colored sand that I remembered the powdery fine mist that had covered my worn black keds, not only the keds but my honey colored six year old skin.

I knew I stank like cat urine and that my hair had tangles in it that probably would have to be cut out but I self consciously tried to tame my hair and straighten my filthy clothes. I never even knew I had a grandmother. Had she known about me? Did anyone know about me? Would she look like the fairy godmother on the Cinderella book cover? I didn't actually have the pages of the story only the worn brightly colored cardboard cover, but I loved it and slept with it under my head every night - it was my pillow. I remember holding onto my book cover as my grandmother looked at me from beneath her sun bonnet. I had no extra clothes and flies seemed to be my only friends but I looked her in the eye the only movement between us was the toe I subconsciously dug deeper into the buckskin sand. She dug into her pocket and handed me orange tinged oblong buttons. I rolled them around in my palm, I smelled their sweet spicy smell. She took my hand and waived goodbye to the faceless stranger who had rescued me.

Her voice was, for a fairy godmother, rather like cool water over gravel. Anyone listening could tell it had once been beautiful but had aged to a raspy warm whisper. I squeezed her hand that was alright with me. "Those are pumpkin seeds. We are going to grow us some friends. You have any friends"? I shook my head, of course I didn't have any friends, I stank all the time. That's who called the dark car...my teacher because I was smelly. Other people came to my house and decided that yes I did stink and took me away. I told this to my grandmother with a smile on my face forgetting about my rotten teeth. She smiled, where her teeth should have been was nothing but smooth rose hued skin. I was alright with that.

Then the sunshine felt cooler and I forced my eyes from my grandmother's face to our surroundings.


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