The Hidden Garden
The power of love and family is eternal
Amaryllis looked out her back window through glazed eyes. She filled the golden kettle with water, like she did every morning. Today was different though, instead of ignoring the death and decay in her backyard, she stared at it. Unlike her grandmother, and the mothers before her, Amaryllis felt as though she took life from all that was around her, instead of breathing into it. Anything Grandma Aster touched bloomed as though the oils on her skin were fertilizer. The family, her food, her garden, everything browned and fell loose after she passed away. “Why did she leave me this place? I am not worthy of it” Amaryllis asked herself every single day. She set the sparkling kettle on the stove top and turned on the gas, igniting the flame. She stepped quietly to the table and sat down. Bills, notices, scattered across her once sacred table like maple leaves in October. She reached for the stack of unopened letters. One by one she opened them. Past due, notice of cancellation, collections, red stamped and ugly like stubborn weeds. Every day more and more were cropping up. “What am I going to do? What CAN I do?” she kept asking herself as she chewed the inside of her lip. She opened the last letter, a bank notice of foreclosure. Amaryllis stopped breathing. Her hands shook, eyes welled up. This was the one she long dreaded opening. She had pressed for extensions as long as she could but there was no more time left.
She dropped the letter and her face fell into her hands. Eyes pouring as she inhaled sharply and began sobbing. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Gran I let you down!” The kettle began screaming, Amaryllis sat inconsolable, cries matching the boiling whistle. All the muscles in her body tensed, toe nails digging into the floor. This house, this land had survived so many feats and depressions for years. How was it ending with her? She was doing so well for herself the years leading to Grandma Aster’s death. Her catering service had been growing astronomically in demand with each passing year. Weddings, birthday parties, baby showers, even local business events had built her up in popularity so much she was getting requests in out of town areas. All of that changed when the pandemic hit. Amaryllis never saw herself in this position. She lost everything and now was losing the gem of the family in a matter of a year.
Nobody was working anymore. People were terrified to leave their homes, so there was no need for her. No more weddings, no more parties… just funerals. And even those were nothing like anyone had ever experienced before. Isolated, distanced, alone. The world was a much different place than Amaryllis ever imagined, and she was afraid. She heard a click and the kettle stopped whistling, as she stopped sobbing. She was no longer alone in the room. She heard little foot steps behind her which was replaced with the feeling of a hand on her back. “Mommy why are you crying?” her daughter Dahlia looked concerned and put her hands on Amaryllis’s shoulders. “I just thought of something sad honey, I am okay now. Thank you.” She hugged her daughter and her heart skipped and the weight of the fear was lifted from her for a moment. She looked back at her daughter and smiled at her. Dahlia still looked worried. She was a split image of Amaryllis. Beautiful dark brown curls, green eyes, and radiant sienna colored skin. “Mommy how about we take our tea outside today?” Dahlia said hugging her again. Amaryllis smiled. They used to have tea out in the garden every morning when Gran Aster was still there “I think that is a great idea sweetheart.” She and Dahlia proceeded to spend the entire day outside weeding, and pruning any perennial plants. They ended their evening in the clover garden eating dinner at Grandma Asters white tea table.
Night fell yet again and Amaryllis tucked Dahlia in and kissed her forehead. “Mom do you miss Grandma Aster?” she asked her as she looked intently into her eyes. “Yes my love, I do. I miss her a lot.” Amaryllis smiled wearily at her. “She misses you too. I hear her humming after you go to sleep. She visits us.” Amaryllis scanned her daughters face for a sign that she may be sliding a fib but she looked serious. “Honey, Gran is gone. I know it has been hard, and mommy has been very sad, but it’s just us here now.” She did not want to give her daughter false hope. Amaryllis had moved in with Aster to help take care of her when she fell ill. They stayed with her until she passed away. The week leading to her passing, she had remained in her bed. Dahlia saw her go from the woman always baking and gardening, to the woman who lay quietly, stagnant. For a child that could be confusing. “No mommy. I see her in the garden at night sometimes.” Amaryllis sighed but then just smiled at her daughter. She kissed her again on the forehead.
That night Amaryllis had dreamed about women made of petals. Women of lavender, lilac, and lotus. A woman made of aster held her hands humming to her through bees. Dripping honey on her skin, the woman made of aster hugged her. Amaryllis realized they were dancing in the clover patch behind the house beyond the white arbor. The women made of flowers hushed and shushed her like a mother does with a baby. The woman of ster whispered to her “light a flame at the arbor. Seek us in the garden.” The bees buzzed and hummed louder in her ears.
Amaryllis woke to Dahlia shaking her shoulder “mommy, wake up!” Amaryllis abruptly snapped out of bed. “Honey what’s wrong?” Her daughter’s hair fell around her frantic face. “There are bees in the hallway!” Dahlia pointed out the door where Amaryllis could hear faint buzzing. “Sweetheart there are no bees right now it’s too cold.” Dahlia grabbed her mother’s hand and began to pull. “Please, come look!” She rose from her bed as her daughter swept her into the hallway cautiously. Sure enough there were about four or five bees buzzing around the hall. Amaryllis looked down and saw flower petals on the ground trailing down the stairs. “Honey stay here.” She said as she followed the petals down the stair way. There was a cold breeze, her back door was open and the flowers lead outside all the way to the arbor. Amaryllis shook with fear. Was this a prank? Was she still dreaming? She followed the petals to the arbor by the clover patch. She looked around and listened but could hear only the soft whistling of the breeze. The twilight sky was a royal blue.
Before the arbor on the ground sat a small tea candle. Amaryllis began to hear buzzing around her “light a flame at the arbor. Seek us in the garden.” She remembered from her dream. “There’s no way.” She said out loud. Just as she spoke, the wind picked up and blew the petals around her, they looked like they were dancing just the way they were in her dream. She ran back in and returned with a matchbox. She lit the candle and waited. She stared intently through the arbor. She could hear rustling of the trees beyond the clover patch. “Who is there?” She said nervously. She took a step under the arbor and something grabbed her and pulled her through. She braced herself and stumbled. She cowered, eyes squeezed shut in fear.
She breathed in deeply and smelled something aromatic and sweet. The atmosphere felt warm. She heard buzzing and humming. “Open your eyes, no fear here.” A familiar voice laughed. Her eyes opened. Grandma Aster stood before her. Feet and hair covered in Aster petals. Bees hovered around her. It was sunny, and warm. “Come sit with me.” She said reaching a hand towards her. Amaryllis followed eyes locked on her in disbelief. She sat her at her tea table, but this one was much larger and dressed for nearly 12 people. She looked across the top and it was covered in what she and Gran would prepare for Sunday brunch. “Gran what is…?” Amaryllis started “Shh sweet girl.” Grandma Aster cut her off softly. She slid a plate over to her and a cup of tea. Amaryllis looked down and smiled. It was a slice of Gran's special chocolate cake, drizzled with honey. They made it together every Sunday. “Grandma I don’t know what I'm doing or what to do.” Tears began to fall from her eyes as she chewed softly. “I know my sweet flower. That’s why we have come to you. I visit you every night and sing to you hoping it will calm your sorrow.” Amaryllis’s eyes grew wide. She was chuckling, arms folded across her chest. “Yes ma’am your little Dahlia was right. Sweetheart I never left. I have been here the whole time. Just like our fore-mothers have been. We are always watching, always guiding you. There’s a special bond and power within the women in our family. We are always here to help each other in life and in death. I chose to pass this magic to you. This beautiful place, so one day you might be able to join us here, and pass our home to your daughter, and she to hers.” Amaryllis stared and sighed heavily “Gran this is just a dream and I am grieving. When I wake up, I will lose the house. I will lose everything. I don’t know why you gave me this place. It’s over.” She cried. Aster dropped her arms and hugged Amaryllis. “Honey as long as you are in this family, there will always be help. When you are down. Just look up.” She clasped Amaryllis’s hands in hers and kissed her forehead. Flowers began swirling around them both and the phrase kept repeating “When you are down. Just look up.” The bees buzzed in her ears once more.
Amaryllis opened her eyes and she was in her bed. “I knew it.” she said. The sun was bright on her back again. She sat up and felt something cold in her hand. She opened it and there lay a golden key with a single rose charm hanging off of it. She looked out to the hall confused and Dahlia was standing there “mommy I saw Grandma again! She was standing right here waving at me!” Amaryllis stood up and walked to where her daughter was standing. “When you are down. Just look up.” She looked up and there was a small door on the ceiling she had never seen before. Amaryllis pulled a chair and pushed up on the tile. She slipped her hand in cautiously and felt around and her hand befell a large box. She pulled it down and sat it and herself on the floor. Dahlia gasped “Mommy our names are on the box!” She pointed. Amaryllis flipped the box over and sure enough, the names Dahlia and Amaryllis were written beautifully in gold cursive. Their names were preceded by “Freesia, Gardenia, Lavender, Lotus, Lilac…” and the name just before Amaryllis listed Aster. Amaryllis unlocked the box and opened the lid. Their eyes grew as wide as saucers and tears fell uncontrollably from Amaryllis’s eyes. “Mommy look at all the jewelry and money! It’s a treasure chest!” Sure enough this chest was filled to the brim with bonds, jewels, jewelry, coins, gold, and money. Within the mix were flower petals and photos of the family. She hugged her daughter and whispered thank you as a small bee landed on the open lid.
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