Agnes’s daughter waved goodbye, slowly backing her new BMW down the gravel drive. Its shiny tires crackled and popped, kicking up a dusty haze. Emily hadn’t stayed long, and Agnes hadn’t expected her to. The old woman knew neither could tolerate anything longer than an overnight together.
Agnes had grown fiercely independent with all but one of her children far from home. Her friends and neighbors felt sorry for her. Yet, after devoting most of her life to caring for her siblings, a husband, and seven children, Agnes preferred it this way. She kept her nose out of others’ business and expected everyone to stay out of hers. Meddling invariably spawned trouble, she thought.
“Ooh, the gall! Who does she think she is?” Agnes groused.
“Your daughter.”
“Don’t give her the right to barge in here, telling me what to do. Ooh, I could scream! I don’t need that ding-bat next door keeping an eye on me. I’ve worked hard cultivating a wall of rude silence, hoping to keep her out. Now, she’ll be here evangelizing and waving church bulletins in my face!
“She’s worried about you.”
“Kaitlin Jones? Nah! She’s just a nosy neighbor. I tell you, she’s on to us, Gideon. She must have seen something.”
“Not her.”
“Oh, you mean Emily? Ha! She’s worried her brothers and sister will blame her if crazy ol’ ma drops dead unattended. Suppose being the oldest, she feels it’s her duty. But there’s a right respectful way of helping, and then there’s bossy! Besides, I’m not alone. Though none of ’em believes me. Too much of their daddy in ’em. Loved him dearly, but not one lick of imagination in that man.”
“Agnes, you do grow frail.”
“Shut yer trap. What do you know of frailty?”
“I observe it.”
“Oh, shush, Gideon! Who’s side are you on?”
“Yours, Agnes.”
“Well, nothing wrong with withering and dying unless there’s more work to be done and no one to pass it on to. That’s my problem.”
“Pity none of them show any interest.”
“Bah! It’s these times, all these computers and gadgets steer ’em away from nature.”
“The forest went without before. It will do so again if need be. You push yourself needlessly.”
“There’s time. Maybe one of the great-grandchildren.”
“Hope springs eternal.”
Agnes threw her hands up, indicating the time for talk had ended, and turned with a grunt to survey a kaleidoscopic spread of primroses. A satisfied smile stretched across her face.
“Delightful. Little beauties really do thrive amongst the cedars, don’t they?”
“And, as promised, a wider array of colors.”
“Hmm…and I figured they were just angling for top billing closer to my side door.”
“They’re prone to vanity,” Gideon whispered.
“Well, I’ll reward ’em with some pickle juice.”
Agnes ambled toward her backyard, lips pursed in determination. She never surrendered to the pain before noon.
“Shame you can’t work yer magic on these here bones. Arthritis is a bitch.”
“Agnes, you know I’m not that kind of fairy.”
“So you’ve said.”
Agnes reached for a rusty chair that bounced and wobbled as she sat.
“Moment’s rest won’t hurt.”
Agnes scanned her yard, making mental notes.
“Forget-Me-Nots could use a pep talk; they’re becoming tattered. But, Gideon, the wood lilies and bluebells are really taking off. Never feels like spring until the bluebells pop.”
“Shh. The Helebores!”
“Ah, they’re plum tuckered out now. See, their color is all but gone. They sure did well this year.”
“Don’t go calling them winter flowers again. You scandalized the whole yard last time.” Gideon chided.
“Hmm? Oh…everyone got over it eventually. What do you think needs doing first?”
“Bloodroot’s spreading close to the lawn again.”
“Yes, and with Emily’s daughter expecting any day now, the last thing I need is poisonous flowers in the grass.”
“It’s decided then. We’ll work on coaxing the bloodroot to yield ground. It will surely take all morning and afternoon. Ornery vegetation.”
The following day Agnes ached from yesterday’s battle with the bloodroot. But she went to work anyways. But, after hauling a ladder out to investigate a window box with failing sea thrift and candytuft, she conceded her body needed a day off.
“Another cup of coffee and lazing out here in the sun sounds good.”
“What about the sea thrift? It looks water-logged.”
“Shouldn’t be. Lots of holes for drainage and full sun. The other box is fine. See.”
“I’ll go take a look if you can’t.”
“Thank you, Gideon.”
Agnes sat on a stone bench amongst a bed of rock cress, alyssum, and creeping phlox. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of the rising sun. The hum of honey bees amongst the surrounding blossoms threatened to lull her to sleep. She let herself drift off.
“AGNES?!”
The old woman started awake to find Kaitlin Jones inches from her face.
“Aargh!” Agnes yelped.
“Praise Almighty! I thought you were dead!” Kaitlin said.
“Dead!? Can’t an old woman rest unmolested in her own yard?!”
“I’m just doing what your family asked me to.”
“Spy and suss out a good reason to put me away, you mean.”
“How you talk, Ms. Agnes. I’m here to help a neighbor in need.”
Agnes harrumphed.
“I’m not as frail as I look.”
“No, shame in aging, Ms. Agnes. Happens to everyone. I enjoy helping the elderly. Did you know I’m a lead CNA at Bassett Nursing Home?”
“How marvelous for you.”
As irritated as Agnes felt, she laughed, seeing Gideon dance upon Kaitlin’s nose.
“Want me to round up some wasps?” he asked.
Agnes shook her head.
“Are you ok, Ms. Agnes?” Kaitlin asked.
“I’m fine, thank you. I don’t know yer arrangement with Emily, but consider it canceled. I don’t need no help.”
Kaitlin took a step back, putting her hands on her hips.
“I disagree, and I told your daughter as much.”
Agnes attempted to rise up and chase the woman off, but her knees betrayed her.
“Look, Ms. Agnes. I’m no snoop, but….”
“Oh, that’s rich! You don’t fool me. I know you eavesdrop on me.”
“Well, someone has to,” Kaitlin frowned knowingly before loudly whispering, “I hear you talking to invisible people.”
Despite the pain, Agnes hauled herself to glare directly into the young woman’s eyes.
“Nothing wrong with talking to yourself. It’s a mark of genius!”
Kaitlin shuddered, crossing herself.
“It’s not natural, Ms. Agnes. Are you dabbling in the occult?”
“What?!”
“Look at your yard. It’s not natural.”
“Because I’ve got a green thumb?”
“This is more than good gardening. What about your pagan statutes and altar?”
“Those are garden gnomes!”
“And your amulet?”
Agnes clutched her Maltese fairy stone necklace protectively. The woman merely guessed, Agnes told herself.
“My pastor gave a sermon recently on the legends surrounding the state park. Did you know godless people from around the world come to Fairy Stone Park to find stones like yours? Supposed to let you see fairies and whatnot. Work of the devil, I say.”
“It’s a rare geological specimen. Nothing else to it. Like it or not, these parts are one of the few places to find one. I wear it as a token of local pride.” Agnes lied.
“That’s it. I’m going to get more than wasps.” Gideon said.
“No, stop,” Agnes said.
“Stop what?” Kaitlin asked.
“I meant…now stop all this foolishness. If you wanted to tire out an old woman, then you’ve succeeded, Ms. Jones. I haven’t the strength at the moment to tend my garden. I think a nap is in order.”
Agnes pushed her way past her neighbor.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Agnes. Let me help.”
“No, thank you.”
“Perhaps, you’d like to come to church with me this Sunday?”
“No, I would not.”
“I’ll check in on you later if you don’t mind.”
“You aren’t very bright, are you, Ms. Jones. I’m trying to tell you off.”
“But, I promised your daughter….”
“That’s none of my business. You do what you need to appease yer conscience, and I’ll mind my own. Good day, Ms. Jones.”
“What’s the ladder for? Surely, you don’t mean to climb at your age!”
Agnes turned to sneer at her neighbor.
“Goodbye, Ms. Jones.”
A luxurious nap restored Agnes’s resolve to tackle the window box. Gideon had discovered standing water inside, meaning something clogged the drain holes.
“How are you going to clear the blockage?” Gideon asked.
Agnes brandished a couple tools garnered from her garage. Laying aside a plastic bucket, a trowel, and a hand rake, she clasped hold of the ladder with both hands and a weed puller clenched in her mouth.
“Be careful, Agnes.”
Mumbling something snarky, she climbed the ladder. Rung by rung, she proceeded slowly until she could reach the three holes on the underside of the box. Leveraging the weed puller in one hand, she probed a hole.
You should wait and have someone take it down.
“By the time I can get someone, I’ll have lost the sea thrift. Look at it. Awful.”
Agnes pierced the closest drain hole, only to be disappointed by the release of a trickle of water.
“You were right, Gideon. I can see the puddle.”
“Why wouldn’t I be right?”
Agnes took a moment to give the fairy a deadpan stare.
“I’m just making conversation. Helps me focus,” Agnes said.
“Oh.”
Her arm began to tremble as she stretched to reach the center hole. The weeder met with resistance. Peering closer, Agnes swore.
“I told Emily those river stones she bought were too small.”
Undetermined, she took the time to position the weeder to better lever the offending stone over. The effort made her sweat, but she didn’t give up.
“Ah! That did it!” she crowed, feeling water rush over her hand.”
“Well done, Agnes. Now get down from there before you fall.” Gideon said.
Agnes stood on tip-toes to watch the water drop in the flower box.
“Still sluggish. I’ll clear the last one just in case.”
She should have moved the ladder. But Agnes decided to try stretching further. She realized her mistake too late as the ladder slowly tipped.
On the ground, Agnes came to in a twisted heap with Kaitlin Jones above her, yelling frantically. Any harsh words deserted Agnes as an awful pain shot through her right leg as she rolled over.
“I told you to be careful, Ms. Agnes! Why didn’t you ask me for help? Now, look at you!” Kaitlin cried.
Agnes didn’t reply, instead focused on assessing her injuries.
“I told you. Nothing good comes to those who stray from Jesus. Are you ready to give that amulet up? It’s evil, I tell you, Ms. Agnes. Let me help you take it off while we wait for the ambulance.”
Agnes shoved Kaitlin away, but the fire erupting in her wrists made her instantly regret it. She must have broken them when she fell.
“Gideon!” she cried.
“On it!” he cried.
“Who are you talking to? Who’s Gideon? Lord Jesus, protect us!”
Agnes laughed through the pain, hearing the fairy muster his forces to attack.
“Only thing I need protection from is you, Ms. Jones! Now, I suggest you be off before it’s too late.”
The young woman crossed herself hurriedly, eyes darting about. Agnes had tried to warn her. She watched with a clear conscience as Kaitlin fled from the swarm of diving birds.
Mythos Creative Writing 
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