by Ian Fox
“What?”
“Most of all, I wish I could sit in my garden and watch the roses bloom. Do you remember how we used to sit in the garden together with a cup of tea?”
“I do, Simon. Those were the nicest moments of my life.”
He blushed slightly. “I enjoyed it too. That’s what I miss the most.”
“I’m curious how I can help.”
He gave a roguish smile. “It’s simple. I don’t wish for anything impossible. I’ll tell you. You once asked me what I did in my laboratory.”
She followed with a surprised look on her face.
“I said I was looking into a fertilizer for plants, right?”
Edna nodded. “You must have sprayed the roses with something for them to be so beautiful. Your neighbor John tried so hard, but never managed.”
“That’s right, Edna. I did spray them with something. I have to admit they didn’t get so beautiful on their own.”
“Why didn’t you start selling it? You could have gotten rich.”
“I intended to, but I discovered something bigger.”
“Really? What?”
He continued in a more self-confident tone. “I discovered a spray that made the plant grow bright-red flowers, twice the normal size. A kind of vitamin spray.”
Edna Weiss was astonished. “That’s brilliant.”
He waited a moment. “Now I’ll tell you my wish.”
“You name it.”
“It’s simple. I want you to spray the garden with it, that’s all. And then tell me how the roses grow. Take a picture of them every week and bring it with you. Would you do that for me?”
She felt more at ease. “Yes, I will, with pleasure. I thought it would be something more complicated. Of course I’ll do it. When do you want—”
He interrupted her. “There’s one problem.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know yet how people and animals react to it. It could turn out to be dangerous. I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”
Edna nodded again, signaling she was ready to listen intently.
“The spray is in the laboratory refrigerator in a bottle labeled 33. You won’t miss it. It’s the only bottle with this label. For safety reasons you’ll have to put on a mask, which you’ll find in a small white closet on the right. You’ll see it as soon as you step in. Are you following me?”
“Yes. But how will I walk around the garden with a mask? What will the neighbors think?”
“Oh! You’re right. You’ll do it late at night, when everyone’s asleep, so that no one sees you. But you must do it today.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do exactly what you said.”
“I’m afraid it may already be too late. The spraying has to be done at a particular point in the growth,” he explained. His facial expression had turned stern, almost grim. “If you don’t do it today, we’ll have to wait until next year.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Yes, you must.” He gathered his thoughts and his face relaxed. “You’ll put on the safety mask and then you’ll pour the liquid from the blue bottle into the spraying can, which you’ll find in the garage, and add a quart of water. Don’t take the mask off. After you’ve finished spraying, you’ll pour the rest into the soil. By next year it would not be any good, anyway. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Simon. It seems pretty simple.”
“When you’ve finished, scrub your hands well and only then can you take off the mask. Then wash the mask and have a shower.”
“Is it that dangerous?”
“You never know. It’s a special combination of vitamins that could cause an allergy or something similar. Promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t touch anything. Once, my rabbit died because of a small amount of one version of this stuff.”
“Was it that poisonous?”
“Yes. I threw that one away.”
She was relieved. “I’ll be very careful, don’t worry.”
“And you must do it today.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Good. That would mean a lot to me. That way, I’ll know if it works or not.”
“I’ll spray them tonight and take photographs every week. Easy.”
Simon showed his appreciation with a smile. They chatted for a while longer and then Simon stood up and said, “Sorry, but I have a stomachache again. I’d better go lie down.”
“Oh, of course.” She also pushed her chair away.
“See you next Thursday, Simon, dear.”
About fifteen minutes later, Simon Patterson was talking to Tuttle. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”
Paul Tuttle looked at him in surprise. “Of course, Doctor, gladly. As long as it’s in my power.”
“Someone very special to me has a birthday tomorrow. I’d like to send this person a bunch of beautiful roses.”
“Oh, that’s what it’s about? I’ll be glad to help.”
Simon Patterson pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill and offered it to him. “You finish at six today, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Then I’d like to ask you to call a florist after work, one that delivers. Can you do that?”
“Yes, of course, whatever you want.”
“What I want is maybe a bit strange. That’s why I’m giving you a hundred-dollar bill. The favor will probably cost more than usual. So, you’ll call the florist and ask them to go to my garden at six o’clock in the morning and cut all the roses that are in bloom. I’ll write the address on a slip of paper.”
The guard was amazed. “But why your roses? The flower shop would have enough of their own.”
“That’s the point. I want my roses, no others. Money isn’t important. Offer them as much as they want.”
“OK, that’s what I’ll ask for.”
“Make sure they know they have to do it in the morning.” Simon only hoped they wouldn’t wake Edna. “Mrs. Weiss is living in my house. She knows nothing about it, but I’ll tell her on Thursday when she comes to visit. Tell them that if Mrs. Weiss does wake up, they should tell her I sent them. Are you following?”
“Of course I’m following. If you want, I can cut the roses myself and take them to the florist.”
Simon paused. He hadn’t even thought of that. “Would you really do that for me?”
“Why not? I can’t sleep in the morning anyway. If you want, I can do it at five in the morning.”
“That would be great, Paul. You’d be doing me a really big favor. Then nothing else would need to be done apart from taking the bunch to the flower shop and have them deliver it.”
“Like I said, I’d love to help.”
“Great—oh, one more thing. I nearly forgot. It’s a special variety of rosebush from South Africa. The scent may give you a headache, so don’t stick your nose in the roses.”
“I won’t, don’t worry.”
On one piece of paper, Simon wrote his address and on the other, Christine Vucci’s, along with a message for her. He gave both to the guard. “I owe you one.”
The guard laughed and put the notes away.
Then they chatted, just like any other day.
Chapter 107
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She lay in the shallow pool, enjoying the churning of the water jets massaging her body. The room was filled with oriental incense. By her head sat a young man, massaging her face.
An older woman entered. “Someone has sent you flowers, Mrs. Vucci,” she said.
“Really?” Christine replied. In an instant, she was on her feet and had slipped into a white robe. “I wonder who they could be from?” Barefooted, she walked over to the woman and took the large bunch into her arms. “Oh, roses! How marvelous!”
After her birthday party, which had cost her a fortune, she had received several invitations. Many prosperous people had invited her to their estates. She looked for a note.
“Here,” the servant said, pointing.
She was disappointed because there was no name. She grabbed the flowers again, dropping the note on the floor. The servant immediately picked it up.
With a cheerful face, Christine ran into the garden and admired the red roses, which were magnificent. Finally, she could no longer resist. She lowered her nose into one of the flowers and took a deep breath.
“Mmm, they smell so good.”
The young man who had been massaging her asked, “What should we do now? Do you have anything planned?”
She stood still for a short time and thought. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like much.” She put her nose in another rose and took an ever deeper breath. “Unbelievable. These roses have such a strong scent, but there’s something else there too.”
“Do you want me to rub sunscreen on you?”
“No, just remove those other roses,” she said, pointing to a silver vase. “I think these will look better in there.” She took another long sniff. “Amazing, such a strong scent, but underneath … it’s strange, like at the dentist’s. It smells a little like mouthwash. But the roses smell wonderful at the same time.”
The young man emptied the vase. “Shall I have a sniff?”
“No, darling, why should we waste time? Let’s go for a swim in the outdoor pool instead,” she said, still holding her nose in the flowers.
She grabbed him by his swimming trunks and tugged hard.
“Look what you did. You ripped my trunks,” he cried in surprise as he stood before her naked.
She placed the flowers in the vase and rushed to the pool. “I was naughty. You’re going to have to punish me.”
“You’ll see, Christine. There’s no helping you this time.”
A thousand drops of water splashed the edge of the pool as he dove in after her.
Chapter 108
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Every day, a little after ten o’clock in the morning, Edna Weiss made her way to the town market where she bought fresh fruits and vegetables. She didn’t hold to her schedule rigorously on account of the apples and cucumbers, but because of the many acquaintances she met along the way. That day she returned home rather late. She’d had coffee with two women she knew, who loved to gossip. One of them had told her that her neighbor’s son had managed to get three young women pregnant in the space of a month. The other woman had complained that she no longer communicated with her husband and that they’d been sleeping in separate rooms for over a year. Edna of course asked why she didn’t divorce him, but the woman replied that she was too old.
They chatted and chatted and Edna didn’t realize that three hours had already passed. She said her good-byes and quickly dashed home.
She dropped her two carrier bags in front of the door at Simon Patterson’s house as she looked for her door key. “Where did I leave it? Ah, here it is.”
She hummed a melody she’d heard that morning. She placed the bags on the tiled kitchen floor.
She remembered Simon and took a deep breath. Oh, you poor man. I hope you’re feeling well. I’ll take those photos to him this Thursday. She tried to remember where she’d left her camera. She snapped her fingers. I remember, in the closet next to the television.
Yes, I was right, she thought as she played with it. Who knows if this thing still actually works? She opened the cap at the back with her nail and let the batteries slide out. These batteries must be dead by now. I should pop out to the nearest store and buy some new ones. That way there won’t be any unpleasant surprises. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Simon. If he wants to see the roses, he will. I’ll photograph them from every angle.
She thought back to the previous night, when she sprayed the roses with a face mask on. She smiled to herself.
Edna returned home about twenty minutes later, having bought the batteries. She dumped the old ones in the trash and inserted the new ones. She took a cloth and wiped the camera.
“There, that’s done. Now, those bags,” she said aloud to herself.
She sorted the groceries she’d bought. When she had finished, she wiped the table she usually ate at with a cloth. Then she made some herbal tea. I’ll drink it in the garden. It’s a shame Simon isn’t here. It would be nice to sit in the garden together.
Then it occurred to her. Why not photograph the roses every day? That way Simon could monitor his flowers developing day by day. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do,” she said.
Edna held the camera in her left hand, the cup of tea in her right. The garden door was locked. It wasn’t easy to unlock the door with only her left hand and not spill the tea, but she finally managed. She pulled the door behind her and stepped outside.
Silence filled the air a couple seconds, followed by the sharp noise of the teacup shattering on the floor. Edna stood there, transfixed at the sight of the flowerless rosebushes. Who could have done such a thing? What do I tell Simon? He wanted those roses so much.
“Damn troublemakers!” she cried loud enough to be heard at the end of the street. “Must you destroy everything?”
She flopped down onto the bamboo lounge chair and pondered what to do next.
Chapter 109
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On the next Thursday, Edna Weiss unwillingly waited for Simon in the visiting room. She forced a smile when she saw him. She began to take the photographs from her purse. “I hope you like them. I have no experience with photography.”
Simon was breathless. In shock, he stared at the pictures of the roses and asked himself how this was possible. Visibly upset, he said, “They’re very pretty. Where did you take these pictures?”
She looked at him for an instant and then lowered her gaze. “At home. These are your roses, can’t you tell?”
The fence he knew well was clearly visible in the background. Therefore the roses must actually be from my garden. He couldn’t hide his disappointment.
“Don’t you like them?”
“Of course I do, they’re very pretty. When did you take them?” he said with a sad face.
“The day after I sprayed them. Is anything wrong?”
Damn right, it is! He thought that Warden Tuttle must have tricked him. He took the money and never cut the roses. The liar! He stared at the roses, while inside his despair grew.
Edna showed him more pictures that she took from the street. “I really outdid myself. I took photos from every possible angle.” She looked at him nervously.
“It’s very nice of you, Edna. I’m grateful for what you’ve done.” Thinking of someone sniffing them gave him the shivers.
“Listen, last time I forgot to tell you something. For the roses to be really beautiful, you need to rinse them with water after a week.”
She listened to him with interest. “How do I do that?”
“After a week, that stuff starts to damage them. With the hose, douse them with water. Especially the buds. Best you do it when you get home. You must do this every day, at least for a week. You understand?”
“Of course, Simon. I’ll spray them every day.”
“Not just spray. You need to wash them well, as if it was raining. It’s very important.”
“Don’t worry.”
Then they changed the subject. Edna told him the week’s news. Simon nodded his head, but it was clear he wasn’t listening. Finally the time came for Edna to say good-bye.
On the way home she wondered whether she should have told him the truth or not. Not wanting to let him down, she had bought some beautiful roses with especially long stalks. She attached them to the rosebushes with sticky tape and then photographed them so the tape wasn’t visible. At the time, her idea had seemed great. But now, after seeing his disappointment, she was afraid that she’d done something wrong.
After racking her brains for over half an hour, she waved her hand and decided to forget about the whole thing.
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nbsp; Chapter 110
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Simon was angry with Tuttle, certain he’d pulled a fast one over on him. Simon couldn’t take it any longer, so he said to the guard, “Listen, Paul, what were my roses like?”
Tuttle was glad Simon had finally asked him about what he’d done. He’d been wanting to talk to him for a while, but Simon Patterson had just stared at his books.
“My heart ached when I cut them. I haven’t seen such magnificent roses in a long time. The blooms were so large.”
How can he be such a good liar? “What time did you do it?”
Tuttle touched his forehead. “It was very early. I think it was before six o’clock.” The guard gave him a worried look. “Is something wrong? Did anyone see me and report me to the police?”
“No, no one called the police. I’m just interested. What did you do then?”
“Then, since the florist wasn’t open yet, I went home. When they opened, I went and told them where to send them, like you said. They weren’t very happy about having to deliver flowers that weren’t bought there, but I gave them some extra money. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, damn, now I know why you’re asking me all this. I didn’t return your change. I totally forgot.” He put his hand in his pocket. “Here it is. I’ve been carrying it. Sorry, Doctor, I totally forgot.”
Simon took the receipt and examined it. The florist’s address was on it. “I’ll keep this, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, no, it’s yours. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong,” Paul added.
Simon’s face broke into a quick smile. He shook his head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m very thankful. Again, thanks for the favor. I owe you one.”
The guard was relieved. “Whenever.”
Why jeopardize their friendship? After all, my idea was utopian, anyway.
