by Sandra Smith
“I haven’t forgotten,” Clare said. “But we must wait until no one sees us.”
They cleaned up the mess they had made and watched a few Monitor shows. Lily called her mother to let her know she’d be staying at Clare’s later than usual.
Just before dark, when shadows outnumbered citizens, the children began ambling around the small, yarded complex: Dante, toy trucks tucked under his arms; Clare, carrying the seed envelope in her back pocket; and Lily, clutching her notebook.
While Lily silently reviewed her notes, Dante roughed up the ground with his toys, pretending to play. They quickly blessed the seeds, and Clare let Lily do the honor of sowing them. Dante firmed the soil by driving over them repeatedly, but carefully, with his trucks. They decided to let the next rain take care of the watering. It was a thoroughly enjoyable activity. The children reveled in their clandestine act and lingered outside until dark.
And then the hardest part began: the waiting.
On Wednesday, the children decided to walk to class. Last time Ana had told them to wear their backpacks. They were hopeful there would be more books, but at the same time felt guilty that she was giving them her valued treasures.
When they arrived, Ana was there waiting, as always. The old Bible sat atop the table. In Ana’s lap lay a large handbag. The children looked around. Where were the books they had expected?
“Hello, children, let’s get those math books out,” she said rather loudly.
The children glanced at each other, puzzled, but did as they were told.
“Your notebooks?”
The kids got everything out, too stunned at Ana’s strange behavior to ask questions.
Ana slid close to Clare and opened the math book, her eyes scanning page thirty-one. “Now then,” she said, studying the book and speaking in a low voice. “How did everything go?”
The children sighed in relief.
“Quietly,” she warned.
They took turns telling her about planting the lone tomato seed. She chuckled at the description of the blessing ceremony. “How appropriate,” and, “Well done,” she interjected at various points. She applauded Dante’s ingenuity with his trucks for planting the carrots, and thanked them for being brave farmers in the new frontier.
“But, Ana,” Lily finally asked, “why are you being so sneaky today?”
“I saw a GRIM man outside the church,” she replied, her smile replaced by worry lines.
“Oh, he was probably waiting for us,” said Clare matter-of-factly. “He still watches us. But don’t worry. He didn’t see us plant the carrots.”
The math book fell from Ana’s hands and her mouth dropped open. “What? How long has this been going on?”
Clare shrugged. “Ever since I got the first seeds.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She gave no time for a response. “I’m afraid I haven’t told you everything.” Ana closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them, she spoke quietly.
“Some years back, GRIM raided my home. They found me illegally growing plants. All of my indoor vegetables were seized and the ones in my yard destroyed. I was fined a lot of money and watched closely for a long time.” She looked at Clare.
“Clare, I’m afraid they may have started following you because they saw the two of us together in the park. If they suspect you kids are meeting me here, you could be in jeopardy. That’s why I was being cautious today after seeing the man. You never know who might be watching and listening.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me they’ve been following you?” she said again.
“It didn’t seem like that big a deal,” Clare said.
“Dearhearts, we may not be able to meet here much longer.”
Her words hit the children like pellets of cold, hard hail. They had learned so much, and yet there was more to learn. The seeds had not yet sprouted.
“But, Ana,” Clare said, “we need you, you . . . ” She didn’t know how to put it into words.
“You can’t leave us now,” Dante finished.
“I don’t intend to. But you do understand it’s risky. It must always appear that you are studying schoolwork and I’m just a volunteer. And you must be very careful when I give you anything.”
“Are there more books?” Dante whispered.
“Yes, dear, I can help you with that,” Ana said in her loud voice again, taking hold of Dante’s book. She spoke quickly, but quietly. “I never told you this, but I’m a Seed Saver.”
The children exchanged knowing glances.
“Over the past thirty-five years I have been growing vegetables and saving the seeds. At times, I’ve managed to meet other Seed Savers from around the country and trade with them. GRIM didn’t find the seeds during the raid or prove my connection as a Seed Saver—although I believe that’s what they were after. I want to give you kids my seeds to continue the tradition until a time when it won’t have to be done in secret. But you must be extremely careful.”
“Seeds?” gasped Lily. “More seeds?” The children looked at each other in disbelief.
“How many are we talking about?” Clare asked.
“A lot.”
Ana reached into her bag and began pulling out brown paper packages of various sizes, folded and taped, neat letters printed in black on each one. BASIL, THYME, CARROT, PEPPER, TOMATO, LETTUCE, CHIVES, SPINACH, MELON, CUCUMBER. The list went on.
“These,” she said, “are most of them. But I couldn’t bring them all. The largest seeds—beans, peas, corn, and the like—were just too much. I’ll try to bring them next time.”
The children started to admire the packets, but Ana tucked the seeds into their bags quickly, speaking all the while. “You mustn’t eat all your Sweeties at once,” she said, in case anyone glanced their way. Although longing to touch and read each labeled packet, the children played along, helping hide away their newest treasures.
“Most of these seeds are fresh,” Ana said. “I usually plant as much of everything as I can. I eat fresh produce and freeze a little, but my first priority is to save new seeds for the next year.
“Please listen, even though I know you don’t understand some of what I’m saying.” She picked up a math book and looked at it, as if reading. “You are only beginning, so I don’t want you to do everything this year. The seeds will last a year or more and still be fine. I’m giving them to you now because I don’t know how many more years I might be around—”
Ana held up her hand as the children started to protest. “No,” she said, “listen. I am an old woman. I may have another ten years in me, but I may not. It’s my duty to the future to pass these seeds on for safekeeping. It was always my plan to bring you these seeds today. I thought it would help take your minds off waiting for your seeds to sprout.
“But seeing GRIM here, and knowing they saw me has made me worry. If they recognize me, if they put together that you kids and I are meeting, we could be in trouble. What I’m trying to say is—we may have less time together than I’d envisioned. But even if we need to adjust, I believe you are ready. You have enough knowledge to carry on.”
She looked up from the book. Three pairs of sad eyes looked back at her.
“What, what do you mean?” Dante asked.
“As I said, I had planned to surprise you with the seeds today. We have been having so much fun.” She smiled warmly and met each child’s eyes. “But perhaps I’ve been living in a dream, thinking we were safe here. We need to be more cautious. There are things I still need to do. I need to let you know how to contact other Seed Savers. I’d like you to have all my books. I’ve taught you hardly anything about harvesting and preservation . . . ” Her voice drifted off, defeated.
“I’m not sure where to go from here, anymore. Now that I know we’re being watched.”
“But what if you’re wrong!” Clare said, almost too loudly. She lowered her voice. “What if GRIM doesn’t remember you? What if they’re just here waiting for us because they always follow us around? We c
an keep doing what we’ve been doing. You can teach us everything. And you’re not going to die! You’re really healthy. You’re healthier than lots of people younger than you, I bet.”
“Thank you, dear,” Ana answered. “Let’s hope I am wrong. But, Clare, think about this: What if I’m not?”
16
ANA SAYS GOODBYE
It was an emotional session at St. Vincent’s. In the end, Ana’s reasoning won out. It was decided the children would miss tutoring on their next scheduled day. Ana would come and work with the other kids. They would meet once more after that, and then not return until the tomato plant sprouted. The kids were depressed thinking about it, but Ana had insisted. She believed if GRIM caught her instructing the children in horticulture, all would be lost.
Walking home in the sunshine, Lily, Clare, and Dante felt as if a party they had been looking forward to had been canceled. Although they had been ecstatic about the new seeds, the excitement was dampened by the fact that Ana no longer felt it was safe to meet. Then, too, was the reason behind giving away her precious seeds and books—in preparation for, well, her death.
“Do you really think Ana will die soon?” Dante asked as they trudged home.
“No, Dante, I don’t think so,” Clare answered.
“She’s just being careful,” Lily said. “The seeds mean a lot to her. She’s spent a lot of years keeping them going. She wants to make sure it hasn’t all been in vain.”
“What’s that mean?” asked Dante.
“It means she doesn’t want it all to be a waste.”
“Oh.”
“No one knows when they’ll die,” Lily said. “And she is pretty old. She’s just being safe, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “I just don’t like thinking about it.”
The kids swung by Lily’s apartment first. “Come on up,” Lily said. “No one’s home.” The girls holed up in Lily’s room, while Dante checked out some new games on the Monitor. Finally, Clare and Lily emerged.
“What were you guys doing in there?” Dante asked distractedly.
“Girl stuff,” said his sister. “Come on, let’s go.”
Approaching home, Clare and Dante made sure to stroll by the place where they had planted the carrot seeds. The kids knew it was too soon to expect anything, but they couldn’t help themselves. They had to sneak a peek.
It was torture for the children to skip their next tutoring session, but they kept to the plan. When Mama asked why they weren’t going, they told her they didn’t have any homework, and besides, the weather was too nice. She raised an eyebrow and made it clear they wouldn’t be dropping out.
At last it was time to see Ana again. The kids raced each other the last block to the church, jostling the backpacks they wore in anticipation of whatever Ana might hand off. They sighed in relief as they entered and saw Ana at their regular table. She smiled and waved. They hurried over, flung their packs on the table, and began taking out their books.
“Let me help you,” Ana said. As quick as a wink, she eased some fist-sized paper packages into each backpack. She leaned down to her bag and pulled out several thin books. These she placed on the table and later slid into the children’s packs.
“Well,” she said. “How was your week?”
“Oh, we missed you!” said Dante.
“Yes,” chimed the girls.
“And I missed you. But I did make new friends.”
Just then a wiry red-haired girl passed by. “Hi, Ana,” she called.
“Hello, Rose.”
“Don’t worry,” Ana said to the three anxious faces, “I explained to the children last week that I usually work with you. I told them you were ‘my regulars.’”
“Whew!” said Dante.
“I don’t expect your seeds are up yet?” Ana asked in a low voice.
The children shook their heads.
“Perhaps in a few days,” Ana said.
“I can’t wait,” said Lily.
“I’m fairly bursting my buttons,” added Dante.
The other three laughed at his exuberant language.
Ana taught them how to know when to harvest the tomatoes and carrots. She told them the books she had given them before would help them and to keep them in a safe place. She urged them to read ahead and commit as much as possible to memory.
“The books I slipped in your bags today are not gardening books,” she said. “They are cookbooks.”
“I’ve heard of those!” Clare said.
“They’re not like the cookbooks you’ll find in Stores these days,” Ana explained. “These books will teach you how to prepare vegetables from your garden.”
Dante licked his lips.
Before they knew it, it was time to go.
“Remember,” Ana said, don’t come next class session unless your tomato has sprouted.”
They looked at each other nervously.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that . . . Mama didn’t like it when we skipped.”
“Oh, my. Yes, that is a problem.” No one spoke for several moments.
“Perhaps I should stop coming,” Ana said.
“But—”
“I’ll still come to church on Sunday, and Clare can pass me a message when necessary. The GRIM men aren’t around on Sundays.”
The children wanted to object, but they knew it was for the best. It was Dante who finally spoke. “But who will teach us?” he asked. “And what will we study?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there is something you can bring. Don’t you have to read every night for homework?”
“Not really. I’m only seven.”
“Well it will be good for you,” she said. “Bring a book!”
17
LILY’S DECLARATION
When the children reached Clare and Dante’s apartment, they rushed to Clare’s room and shut the door. They carefully unloaded their backpacks. First they examined the bundles. Corn, read one, different varieties.
“Can we open it?” begged Dante.
“Not now,” said Clare. “It’s better to keep it wrapped.”
“Beans, read Lily, looking at a second package. “Also, several varieties enclosed.”
“Peas,” said Clare. There was a sticky note affixed. “Plant early spring if you think you can keep it hidden.” She turned to the others, “Do you think this note is for us?”
“I don’t know,” Lily answered. “She never said anything about it.”
“I can ask her on Sunday. We’d better check one of the books later to see what the plant looks like.”
“Can we see the cookbooks now?” asked Dante.
They each reached into their bags and pulled out the books. The first book boasted a glossy green cover with photographs of green, red, and orange vegetables.
“Wow, look how pretty the vegetables are!” Clare said.
Another book had a yellow cover featuring an illustration of a fork, spoon, and plate—the plate loaded with plump and colorful produce. The remaining two were even more beautiful: fruits and vegetables of so many colors! And all of it was real, not just added coloring made in a laboratory somewhere.
Because the covers looked nothing like most adult books, for a second the children thought maybe Ana had given them the wrong books. But then they started reading the titles: Simply in Season, The Garden-Fresh Vegetable Cookbook, Serving up the Harvest, and From Asparagus to Zucchini. They sat in silence as they turned the pages, gazing at the pictures, ingredients, and instructions on how to cook fresh vegetables.
The books were well-worn and adorned with spills from years gone by.
Lily hugged Serving up the Harvest to her chest and sighed deeply. “Lily Gardener,” she said, “you will help change the world. You will grow and cook food.”
Clare put her thumbed fist forward. The other two latched on.
18
A VISIT FROM ANA
Nearly five weeks had passed. School would so
on be out. The children dutifully attended tutoring sessions three days a week, though Ana no longer came. They missed learning gardening, but their grades had gone up, so it wasn’t all for nothing. They had also gained new adult friends, and met other children. Still, they missed their elderly mentor. So it was a pleasant surprise to see Ana walk into tutoring twenty minutes after it had started.
Clare was the first to spot her. “Ana!”
“Ana!” yelled Dante. He stopped what he was doing and ran to her.
“Hey, kiddos,” she said, smiling.
“You should see the tomato,” Dante said, excitedly.
“Shh,” Lily cautioned.
Rose was just walking up. “See the what?” she asked.
“The tornado,” Clare said quickly. “We saw this big tornado on the Monitor.”
“Tornado?” the red-haired girl repeated. “That’s not what it sounded like you said,” looking at Dante as she spoke.
Clare and Lily stared hard at Dante.
“Yep,” he agreed. “That’s what I said.”
“Oh,” said Ana. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. I don’t watch the Monitor much. But not right now. I’m here to work. Need any help?”
The children ran over to Gene, the volunteer who had been helping them, and explained about Ana. He smiled understandingly and moved on to help elsewhere. Ana joined the children at their table.
“I missed you,” she said. “Seeing you at church and not talking like this is just not the same.”
The kids agreed. They chatted for awhile about school, the weather, and what the latest Monitor news was. At last they lowered their voices and began sharing about their exploits in the illicit activity of growing food.
“You should see how many leaves the tomato has now!” Dante said.
“It has taken forever,” complained Clare. “I still find it hard to believe that some day it will be as big as in the book.”
“And you were right about the carrots,” Lily said. “They look just like little pieces of grass.”
