the garden

genevieve and hermione lived in a big old house by the side of the road to nowhere. the house had once held swarms of aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews but now only genevieve and hermione were left. they had lived a long time and were running out of money. they could not imagine selling the house because they had never lived anywhere else. they could not imagine renting rooms - assuming anyone would want to rent them - because the guests would want some kind of service or at least attention. there was a wide empty space behind the house which had always been called “the garden”, although they could not remember anyone actually doing any gardening in it, not even in grandmother’s day. “perhaps,” genevieve ventured, “we could rent out the garden.” “you mean,” hermione answered, “to someone who would come every day and work in it and make a lot of noise? they might expect us to invite them in for tea or whatnot.” “no,” genevieve said. “ do you remember how uncle isaac used to say the garden would be a perfect place to bury bodies, and aunt jennifer and aunt kathryn thought that was so funny? and uncle lawrence said it was a great place to hide buried treasure? well, perhaps we could put an ad in the gazette, or on craigslist, to rent the garden out to anyone who wanted to bury some bodies or buried treasure - or anything at all.” “but surely ,“ hermione, who considered herself the more levelheaded of the two, protested, “we can not put the words ‘bodies’ or ‘buried treasure’ right in the ad. might that not attract the notice of the authorities?” “we could just say. ’space to bury objects’ and leave to the imagination what is to be buried.” “i suppose it is worth a try,” hermione agreed with a sigh. they placed the ad. it read, “space available to bury large objects. discretion assured. “ they received no written or texted replies after two weeks, and had almost forgotten about the ad. then one afternoon they were sitting on the front porch as it was not too gloomy a day, when a dark blue van pulled up on the road in front of the house. the van had no lettering or pictures on it, but looked as if some had been painted over . a man got out of the van and approached the house. he wore a dark suit, a bright red tie, and he wore a blue baseball cap on his head ,which both ladies thought looked quite ridiculous but of course they did not say so. the man tipped the baseball cap to them, just as if it had been a real hat. “are you the owners of the plot of land suitable for the burial of large objects?” “we are indeed,” genevieve answered, “and we are at your disposal to discuss terms.” the man moved on up to the porch. “my name is jonathon walker,” he told them. “and this is my story.” “it will not be necessary to tell your story,” hermione assured him. “but i have a story all prepared,” jonathon walker protested, “and like to consider myself a forthright and up front fellow.” jonathon’s story, which he recounted after being invited to take a seat on the porch, was that he was a dealer in tea, and.that he had developed a new blend of that beverage, which had not found favor with the world, but which he was confident was just ahead of its time. therefore, he had a large box of this tea, both in bulk and in teabags, which he wished to bury in the ground until its time finally arrived. he concluded his narrative, by asking the ladies if they would like to sample the tea, as he was always interested in feedback and constructive criticism. how could they refuse? they would be only too happy to sample the gentleman’s wares. accordingly he produced three teabags, and sat and chatted amiably with hermione - they found common ground in deploring the insanity of the modern world - while genevieve prepared their three cups. jonathon walker only pretended to sip his beverage, and when genevieve and hermione tasted theirs, they expired immediately, as the tea contained the strongest poisons from the remotest jungles. the man who had called himself jonathon walker then set to work. his name was not really jonathon walker, but walter hargraves, and he had been born in wichita falls texas during a violent snowstorm. he had spent his life searching for the lost treasure of patheta-ru, last emperor of the lost continent of mu, and had been attracted to genevieve’s and hermione’s advertisement by the prospect of discovering that treasure, left behind by another respondent to the ad. it was a long shot to be sure, but had, he thought, been worth a try. taking a shovel from the back of his van, he proceeded to spend the rest of the day until nightfall digging up the garden, with, as the reader has no doubt surmised, no results. he had brought a large box with him, as part of his story to be used as necessary, and after giving up on finding the treasure, he placed the bodies of the two ladies in the box and covered it with the dirt he had dug up. he then returned to the van and proceeded on his way. a year later, two small flowers sprouted in the garden, one white, and one red.