Planting the Seed
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“Got a minute?” he asked.
I’d seen him around the area for the past few days. He was busy, landscaping mostly, installing water features, planting trees. He was a hard worker and so old I couldn’t even guess at his age. It didn’t seem to affect him. He labored like a young man, full of energy, vital. He stretched his back out and walked over.
“If you’re not busy, I got a job for you,” he continued, wincing a bit as he worked out some kinks. “It won’t take very long. I – I just need a little help to get some things started around here and I think you’d be perfect.”
His eyes seemed to look through me. Lying to this guy would be damned near impossible. I squirmed a little when he looked right at me, but his face was so kind it took the sting out of his gaze, and his voice was warm and rich. It felt sorta like a blanket, ya know? I glanced around.
“Great job you’ve done to this place,” I said. “Really beautiful.”
“Well, thanks,” he smiled. “This garden is the showplace of the whole project. It turned out even better than the sketches. There’s a lot more you can’t see from here, miles and miles, but this here’s the highpoint.”
“Well, you do great work,” I said and smiled. “It seems like a lot of effort, though, for a man your age.”
He chuckled, “Oh, I’ve been around a while, no doubt about that. I think it’s important to stay busy if you wanna stay young. Every now and then I get this creative urge and the years just slip away. Next thing you know, I’m back at it, working my tail off. I don’t know. I need it, I guess.”
