{"id":9564,"date":"2021-05-16T01:14:11","date_gmt":"2021-05-16T06:14:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/?p=9564"},"modified":"2021-07-16T12:43:32","modified_gmt":"2021-07-16T17:43:32","slug":"where-the-flowers-grow-wild","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/where-the-flowers-grow-wild\/","title":{"rendered":"Where the Flowers Grow Wild"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Patricia Crisafulli<\/h1>\n\n\n\n
\"PastedGraphic-1.png\"<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Every road looked the same, twisting and turning, splitting and merging back into each other. GPS had failed her three miles ago when it tried to send her down an unpaved track unfit for vehicular traffic. Another time, her way had been blocked by a barricade and a six-foot \u201cbridge out\u201d sign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Peering through the windshield, Avery studied the creek now running parallel to the road. It looked annoyingly familiar. Hadn\u2019t she passed this spot about twenty minutes ago? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The farmhouse sat atop a rise, back from the road. Its gently sloping front lawn ended with a profusion of orange tiger lilies growing along the ditch at the edge of the pavement. Avery cranked hard on the steering wheel. Gravel crunched under the tires.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            She considered sounding the horn and asking for directions through a half-open window. Then, seeing pink impatiens and spikes of blue-purple delphiniums nodding in the gardens along the front porch, and baskets of red geraniums dangling from hooks in the overhang, Avery decided to get out of the car. The sweetness of roses and the pungent tang of dill scented the air. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cMay I help you?\u201d a voice called to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Looking down the driveway, Avery saw an older woman, a basket over her arm and clippers in her hand. A long silver braid coiled over one shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSorry to disturb you. I\u2019m looking for Landeau\u2019s\u2014the bed and breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman pushed back the brim of her sunhat, revealing a tanned face. \u201cThat\u2019s ten\u2014maybe twelve miles from here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cShould I just keep going?\u201d Avery sliced her hand through the air toward the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman turned around. \u201cI think you should have some lemonade in the garden while I draw you a map.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI don\u2019t want to impose, I\u2014\u201d A bee jetted through her line of vision, and Avery stepped back. When she turned, the woman was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery followed the driveway to the rear of the house where a path of flat stones led into a garden that took up most of the backyard. The woman must have gone into the house, she surmised, then directed her attention to the abundant spread of squash and cucumber vines; rows of eggplant, peppers, beans, and leaf lettuce; the spiky tops of onions and the feathery foliage of carrots; potato plants sprouting from neat mounds. Beyond the vegetables grew herbs both familiar\u2014parsley, basil, peppermint, thyme, oregano, lavender\u2014and some she could not identify by sight. Reaching down, Avery fingered the narrow leaves of a rosemary plant, which felt like soft pine needles. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cGood for muscle pains and circulation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery turned her head toward the woman who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, a tall glass of lemonade in each hand. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cMe? I just love the smell. Nature\u2019s aromatherapy,\u201d the older woman continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery pinched off a small sprig and breathed in the fresh, sweet smell. \u201cSo, you\u2019re an herbalist.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

             \u201cThat\u2019s one name for it.\u201d Deep smile lines creased the woman\u2019s face. \u201cI\u2019m Lucinda\u2014Lucinda Nanz. Everybody around here knows me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAvery Albertson. I\u2019m\u2014\u201d She paused. \u201cVisiting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A buzzing black dot darted through Avery\u2019s line of sight. Following it, she saw more bees in one place than she\u2019d seen in years. \u201cAre you a beekeeper, too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI like to think they keep me,\u201d Lucinda replied. \u201cThey work as hard in this garden as I do\u2014probably harder.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery followed Lucinda to a wrought iron table on a small brick patio off the garden and pulled out one of the chairs with a patchwork cushion. The sun warmed her skin through the rumpled t-shirt and jeans she wore, and a light breeze mussed Avery\u2019s short dark hair that she\u2019d impulsively had cut off at a discount \u201cwalk-ins welcome\u201d place the day before. She ran her hand over her head, hoping to smooth the mess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSo where are you from?\u201d Lucinda asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cNorth Carolina,\u201d Avery replied. \u201cDrove here today. I left at four in the morning\u2014ten straight hours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOh my, that\u2019s a long way. And all by yourself.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cPlans changed.\u201d Avery\u2019s thoughts turned reluctantly to Alice. The two them had planned to travel here together after reading about hiking in the area through rocky gorges and thick forests. Perfect for the two of them\u2014Alice the geologist, and she the botanist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWelcome.\u201d Lucinda raised her glass in salute. \u201cWhat brings you here?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery watched a trickle of condensation slide down her glass. \u201cI\u2019m a botany professor. I\u2019ve been doing research for the better part of two years, and I wanted to get away to finish writing the paper.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHow marvelous. My husband taught in the agriculture program at the community college in the next town.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cDoes he help you in the garden?\u201d Avery asked, reasoning that this property exceeded what Lucinda\u2014who had to be in her late 50s, maybe 60\u2014could do on her own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHe did. We put all these gardens in together. Now I keep them up myself. Len\u2019s been gone for six years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Avery murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI can still hear him out here, telling me that the potato mounds ought to be higher and the tomatoes need afternoon sun.\u201d Lucinda chuckled. \u201cBut I\u2019ve been working this garden for forty-eight years, and I\u2019ll be doing this until somebody plants me in the ground.\u201d She paused, then added. \u201cI\u2019m seventy-two.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery set her glass down. \u201cI never would have guessed.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cJust a number. So, what\u2019s your research about?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery recalled Alice\u2019s remark after too much wine one night. Manatees are dying, kudzu vines are devouring everything in their sight, pythons are taking over the Florida wetlands, and you\u2019re worried about gardeners planting the wrong kind of honeysuckle. Give me a break.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The next day, Alice had apologized numerous times, and Avery had assured her all was forgiven. But she\u2019d never forgotten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Pushing past the unwelcome memory, Avery replied, \u201cI\u2019m studying invasive and native plants of the same species. I\u2019m focusing on native honeysuckle and non-native, ornamental varieties. The berries produced by invasive honeysuckle do not match the nutritional needs of local bird populations. It upsets the ecosystem in subtle, even invisible ways.\u201d. 
            Just like Sarah had done when she invaded their life, Avery added to herself. But Alice had not been passive to Sarah\u2019s advances, like some patch of fern trampled underfoot. No, Avery argued silently, she had been the one who did not resist\u2014allowing Alice to convince her that she had imagined it all. Then she saw Alice and Sarah together in an embrace too intimate for mere friends. Alice had actually said he was glad to have it all out in the open where the three of them could discuss it. She\u2019d sat in an armchair across from Alice and Sarah together on the sofa while they explained to her how they\u2019d fallen in love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. \u201cMy research looks at unintended consequences of what might seem like harmless gardening choices.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHarmless until it takes over,\u201d Lucinda agreed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Exactly<\/em>, Avery thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Faith<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

            Avery followed the map Lucinda drew to Landeau\u2019s, a large Victorian home with a wraparound porch, converted into a bed-and-breakfast. She went through the motions of checking in, acknowledged the invitation to happy hour at five o\u2019clock in the parlor with the other guests, though she\u2019d never attend, and hurried upstairs to her room. The bedroom held a queen-size four-poster and a large chest of drawers; in a separate sitting area, a writing desk occupied a corner, flanked by upholstered chairs and bookshelves. One door led to a closet, the other to a private bathroom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery sat on the edge of the bed and wondered yet again if coming here alone had been a mistake. But where else did she have to go? She had moved out of Alice\u2019s condo, where she\u2019d been living for almost three years, taking only two suitcases of clothes and a box of personal belongings. She had checked into a motel the first night but found it impossible to sleep in such an anonymous place. When friends reached out with offers to stay with them, she had accepted the sofas and guestrooms. Then came the email from Landeau\u2019s\u2014a reminder of the reservation she had made three months ago and paid in advance. Her plan had been to write her research article while Alice relaxed and explored the area. Together, they would hike the trails.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery stretched back across the bed, her eyes tracing the plaster ceiling until landing on a cobweb in the corner. Spiders made those filaments as they moved from surface to surface, the way mountain climbers used guide ropes. She imagined the tiny creature that had traversed this huge expanse, as vast as an Antarctic glacier compared to its tiny body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A light scratching sound turned her attention to a square pink sheet of \u201cWhile You Were Out\u201d message paper being pushed under the door. Curiosity pulled her upright, and Avery walked across the room to retrieve the paper\u2014a phone message from Lucinda Nanz taken by the front desk. \u201cCome back when you have time. I have something to show you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery called the number and Lucinda suggested they meet early the next morning, before it got too hot. \u201cEight?\u201d Avery suggested.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019ll be in the garden,\u201d Lucinda promised. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Faith<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

            Avery headed out right after a breakfast, arriving at quarter to eight. She apologized for being early.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda looked up from her weeding. \u201cIf the sun is up, so am I.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            While Lucinda went inside the house to change out of her rubber clogs into sturdy shoes, Avery followed the path through the garden toward clusters of irises\u2014brilliant yellow, deep purple, and a two-toned bloom of russet and gold. The tall flowers with their dragon-like faces stood like sentinels between the garden and the grass that grew long and tangled all the way to the woods at the edge of the property. As she admired the irises, Avery noticed a half-dozen bees dancing in a figure eight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThey like you,\u201d Lucinda called out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBotany wouldn\u2019t exist without bees,\u201d Avery replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cFor sure, but I meant the irises. You\u2019re drawn to them. Or rather, they\u2019re drawn to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda pointed to the backpack on Avery\u2019s shoulders. \u201cSet it down for a moment. Close your eyes and quiet your mind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m not very good at that. I can\u2019t even do yoga\u2014\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda held up one finger, and Avery obeyed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOpen your palms toward the flowers. Tell them in your mind that you mean no harm and ask if you can approach.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Protests inflated like bubbles in her brain, then popped just as quickly. No harm done, she told herself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cCup one of the blossoms with your hands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery felt the brush of velvety petals against her fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhat do you feel?\u201d Lucinda asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery\u2019s thoughts immediately turned to Alice and Sarah and how to navigate the fall semester on campus. Could they all carry on professionally as if nothing happened or would one of them have to leave? Alice was tenured; she was on track for it. The research paper would help, Avery knew, but found it hard to finish right now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cQuiet your thoughts and focus on your feelings,\u201d Lucinda intoned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            With the inhalation of deep breath, Avery sensed something, but dismissed it as nothing more than the power of suggestion. As it resurfaced, Avery named it. \u201cCourage.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda\u2019s face crinkled pleasantly. \u201cAs if you were on a mission?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery hesitated, not wanting to retrofit whatever she had felt to Lucinda\u2019s suggestion. Yet that matched what she had experienced fleetingly. \u201cSomething like that.\u201d She picked up her backpack from the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThat\u2019s the energy irises give off. It makes them grow so tall and vibrant,\u201d Lucinda explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery tried to summon the sensation again but couldn\u2019t detect anything. Had she just imagined it? \u201cYesterday, when I asked if you were an herbalist, you said that was one name for it. What\u2019s the other name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda cackled with laughter, bracing herself with her hands on her thighs. \u201cOh, honey. Isn\u2019t it obvious? I\u2019m a green witch, though most people drop the \u2018green\u2019 part.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOh\u2014\u201d Avery began, her scientist\u2019s mind flashing warnings about wasting her time here. She could imagine one of Alice\u2019s eyerolls. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI just know plants and they know me. I can feel their properties, for healing and for harm.\u201d Lucinda ran her hands over a patch of snapdragons. \u201cThese sweet ladies have a mild energy, but they\u2019re very good for protection. That\u2019s why I always plant them at the entrance to my house. If someone is coming here to fool me, I want to stop that energy in its tracks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery grunted. Maybe when she went back to North Carolina, she should put a pot of snapdragons outside her office door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Faith<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

            Twigs snapped underfoot as the two women pushed into the woods. Lucinda chatted pleasantly about the land and how it had changed over the years: farms and pastures going fallow; the land overtaken by new growth, then woods. \u201cBut this has always been wooded,\u201d Lucinda added. \u201cI suspect it\u2019s virgin soil. No one has ever plowed this ground.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery stopped walking for a moment and took in the hallowedness of that statement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            When Lucinda asked about her life back in North Carolina, Avery skimped on the details at first. Then she mentioned Alice, and everything came out: Sarah, the breakup, her current living situation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI just couldn\u2019t handle it emotionally, so I left,\u201d Avery explained. \u201cWhen I go back, I need to rent a place. It\u2019s not a matter of money.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            When Lucinda didn\u2019t respond, Avery regretted sharing something so personal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cFour or five years ago, a fire wiped out a couple hundred acres of woodlands not far from here. They suspected arson\u2014or at least stupidity. Everything burned before they got it under control,\u201d Lucinda said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery pushed back a branch to keep it from slapping her in the face. \u201cOh, uh-huh.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cEvery time I saw those charred trunks of dead trees and the blackened grass, I felt sick,\u201d Lucinda said. \u201cBut you know what happened? The next year, it started to come back. There\u2019s new growth everywhere. A lot of those old trunks have toppled over and started to decay, right back into the soil.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery got it then. This wasn\u2019t an abrupt change of topic; it was a story with a purpose. \u201cSo, I\u2019m the scorched earth?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Lucinda shook her head. \u201cNo, you\u2019re the new growth. But you couldn\u2019t flourish until what was no good for you was burned away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery\u2019s vision swam with the tears that sprang suddenly. The relationship with Alice had always been tumultuous\u2014flirtations and jealousy, professional rivalry, an acute lack of support that Avery had always felt no matter how much Alice protested to the contrary. Sarah, or someone like her, had been inevitable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The two women walked in silence for another ten or fifteen minutes, then Lucinda stopped. Avery waited for a shift in direction, fearing that Lucinda had gotten them lost. Then she saw it: multiple crooked trunks branching skyward, dark blue-green leaves, and a few remaining clusters of pale pink blossoms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery fingered the leathery texture of the foliage and looked up to the crown of the shrub, a good nine or ten feet tall. \u201cNative rhododendron,\u201d she said aloud. \u201cYou don\u2019t see specimens like this every day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Examining the interconnected trunks, Avery surmised the cluster was actually one shrub\u2014at least ten feet wide and six or eight in depth. \u201cHow old is this?\u201d she wondered aloud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOh, I think she\u2019s been here for more than hundred years,\u201d Lucinda said. \u201cAnd look who she\u2019s guarding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery followed to where Lucinda pointed with crooked finger. There, interspersed among the hardier shrub, rose the spindly trunks of native honeysuckles, dangling their delicate blossoms. She examined both shrubs for signs of stress but found none. Instead of being toxic, their proximity seemed completely benign\u2014even companionable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Avery took a dozen pictures with her phone, her mind buzzing with ideas. Maybe she\u2019d come back, take soil samples, a few small cuttings from the shrubs. Suddenly, she wanted to finish her current research paper as quickly as possible so she could move on to the next project. There might be something here or maybe nothing at all. It felt good to have a plan, something to look forward to instead of constantly being dragged back into a painful past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThank you,\u201d Avery said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOh, no need. I knew the rhododendron was here, but I didn\u2019t see the honeysuckle until yesterday, after you left. I was out looking for jack-in-the-pulpit. You make a tea from it, and you won\u2019t get another cold. My mother used to mash up the root and put it on her knees when her rheumatism acted up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Folk remedies and kitchen wisdom, Avery recognized, hardly the stuff of scholarship. And yet there was much to learn here. \u201cShow me where it grows,\u201d she asked Lucinda, and together they stepped more deeply into the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Faith<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Faith Hope and Fiction.<\/strong><\/em>com<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Patricia Crisafulli<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9564","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nWhere the Flowers Grow Wild | Faith Hope & Fiction<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/where-the-flowers-grow-wild\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Where the Flowers Grow Wild | Faith Hope & Fiction\" \/>\n<meta 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