garden spirit

Since the ‘ghost rooster’ incident, things have been quiet on that front in the house. There has been no misplaced items, no lost socks and no more roosters trying to wake them at all hours of the morning. It hadn’t lasted long. Too long for most but not quite that long, in the long run. It had changed sleeping patterns around but this was a usual happening in this household where sleep was sought only when it was necessary and not just because certain hours had come to pass.

It hadn’t taken long for life to settle back to its routine pace however and that was what was good about this.

Lately, however, Yael has noticed something fluttering through the flowers of his garden. It only seems to drift on by when he’s not looking. Something he sees from the corner of his eyes. It often leaves him baffled but not enough to really be worried. His plants are still growing at a marvellous pace and nothing seems to be going wrong, he tries not to worry about it too much.

On a quiet morning, as he walks around the garden to check on his lettuce and tomatoes, he notices the leaves of his nearby potato plants drift as if from a breeze but there is no breeze in the garden this morning. The windows had been closed overnight because of the presence of a slightly cold breeze. He stops and stands still, not quite looking at the rustling of the leaves. He knows that whatever is in his garden, or whoever really, is either absolutely shy and timid or very playful.

The leaves no longer move as he stands still. He sighs and walks forward, settling near his lettuce and tomatoes to look them over. The ground is still moist and the plants are doing well. As he begins to ease back up to his feet, the potato plants find themselves rustling again, with a little more strength than before.

“Now really, I won’t harm you, I just want to know who you are, why don’t you come out?” His words are calm, called out gently. He can’t imagine it being a rat. It would have had to get through the house and he had himself two very good hunters to keep rats and other rodents out.

He turns just barely, shifting his weight mostly and he plops where he had been settled. He sits and waits. This is something he’s tried before without ever any results but he’s curious to know who or what his guest might be at this point.

After several hours spent unmoving, legs falling asleep and ants beginning their trek through his muscles to tell him he should move, Yael slowly moves back to his feet and waits a few moments for sensations to return before he slowly heads back towards the door to let himself back down to the first floor.

He could let the cats up to the garden but he doubted they’d find whatever he’s been getting glimpses of. They’d probably uproot several of his vegetables and that just couldn’t happen. He would just keep on waiting for a glimpse more of whatever it is that has decided to settle up there.

“Remember the rooster we all heard but could never find?” Sitting at the kitchen table, pushing his food around slightly in his plate. Not that he’s not hungry, just distracted at this point.

Quentin blinks and pushes his mostly empty plate away. “It’s hard to forget, it was less than pleasant to wake up to that, really.”

Yael laughs softly and shakes his head, he finally manages to take a few more bites of his food before he pushes his plate away as well.

“I think we have a garden ghost or spirit or something up there. For a while now I’ve been seeing the leaves rustling left and right and at times I swear I can see things from the corner of my eyes. At first I thought it was a rodent of sort but to get up there they would have had to get in the house first and I don’t think Areli or Lavi would have let anything get in that way.” He falls quiet again, thoughtful as he really tries to make sense of what he’s saying.

A garden spirit could be interesting though he didn’t know if they really existed. Maybe it was a fairy. If there were demons, fairies had to exist, right? Maybe he’d ask Alexis about it. The elder demon was bound to have an answer for him, he’d been alive so long. So much he must have seen.

“Well, so long as the garden stays in shape. I know how much work you pour into it and how much it means to you, I wouldn’t want all your work tone wasted.” Quentin’s voice a gentle reminder of what Yael had been worried about at the beginning but after finding no traces of half-eaten food in the garden and nothing that beginning to rot, he had stopped worrying about whatever it was being a danger to his work.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think it’s a good spirit or something. Everything is growing up nice and strong and I’m just glad for that. I don’t know where I would be without this garden.” Yael knows that the garden is almost his salvation. It is what keeps him sane and mostly rooted in this apartment. He appreciates the roof over his head but he knows that he might not have stayed permanently if not for the garden.

Art is an outlet, it brings in extra money but it doesn’t really keep him in place. He could do art just about anywhere he might want. Gardening is different, it’s in one place, it requires daily looking over to make sure everything was fine and it was more than entertaining. It was a wonderful sort of thing.

“I don’t know why, I thought about leaving out some sort of something, I don’t know what, out on a small plate in the garden one night. I thought I’d check on it in the morning to see if anything had been eaten. Then I realized that if whatever was up there wanted to eat, there was a world of fruits and vegetables already and I don’t know what else I could have offered. Maybe Alexis might have an answer. I don’t want to draw it out and get rid of it, I just want to know what we’re dealing with.” His voice is quiet and thoughtful again.

Quentin chuckles and shrugs before pushing Yael’s plate closer to his companion once more. “You can go and talk to Lex tomorrow. For now, you’re supposed to eat. You’ve barely touched your food and you know I worry about you. So if you could at least clean up your plate, I’d be grateful.”

He knows he’s not asking for much, the plates are small portions, neither one of them eat much. They tend to go back for seconds when what had been on the plate turned out to not be enough, it was how they worked.

Yael rolls his eyes but picks up his fork, a smile quirking at his lips. “Sure, sure, I’ll eat. Don’t want you fussing and fretting about me when you could be busy with other things, like not fussing about me.”

He teases gently but both of them know there is no harm meant by the words at all. It is the playful banter of lovers.


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