Mother Combs' Garden

One day early last summer, I went outside and worked in my garden, listening to the classic rock station on the radio. Busy pulling weeds and tilling the soil for new summer plants to be put in beds I was soaking up the gentle sun. The weather was beautiful that day, as I remember, and I was eager to prepare the garden for a party that weekend. I was really into the music, singing along where I knew the words, and humming where I didn’t. I didn’t hear the tiny voice behind me.

“Um-hm. Excuse, me, ma’am,” a butterfly flew in front of my face, and sitting on the winged insect was a tiny pixie, trying to get my attention. “I’m sorry I startled you, but I have been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes.”

At this point, I was clutching my heart, praying my ICD wouldn't go off and give me a shock, all I could do was look at the flying myth. With pointed ears and sharpened teeth, it looked like it was ready to bite me. The wide grin on its face didn’t help matters, and neither did its bulging black eyes.

“I’m talking to you, you know. You’re not some halfwit, are you? Then again, the way you're trying to toss plants into this garden, maybe you are,” the sprite-like fae was chattering away so quickly, I barely had time to understand what it was talking about.

“You can’t plant that many sunflowers and expect the geraniums to thrive, lady! And as for those cosmos, you don’t want to mix those with the zinnias. Put that marigold in with the pumpkin and tomatoes. Always put hydrangeas on the EAST side of your garden!! Don’t look at me like I’m stupid. This is what I do, after all,” The winged fairy continued, all the while sitting on the fluttering butterfly.

“Hey, do you hear me?” The pixie finished his tirade with a final question.

Looking at the little fairy, I managed a weak nod. Finally, finding my voice, I asked, “Wh-who are you?”

“What are you, an owl? Haha, no. I didn’t think so. I didn’t take you for a stutterer, either. Oh, well. I guess I can’t be too choosy. You are my first gardener, after all.”

I was beginning to wonder if the imp ever stopped talking long enough to say anything.

“Anyways, my name is Pinchota Verbina. My friends just call me Pinny for short. So, I was sent here to help you with your garden this year. You see, every year, one of us garden Sprixies are assigned to gardens across the world, to aid the owners in their upkeep. Normally, us Sprixies are supposed to do this all on the quiet side, you know, the down low.” Pinny barely paused in any of this before it continued. “I just couldn’t stand by and watch you butcher your garden, with this being the first garden I’ve ever had assigned to me. If this garden doesn’t turn out right, the garden commissioners will assign me to trailer parks next year! Oh, I couldn’t live with myself if I was demoted to trailer parks so soon in my career! So, you see, I just had to say something to you, and stop you from making some major gardening mistakes.”

“I’m sorry?” I didn’t know what to say to the tiny imp. It seemed to do enough talking for the both of us, anyway.

“Well, it’s alright. No harm, no foul. So the saying goes. Anyway, I have a proposition for you. Since this is my first garden to assist in maintaining, and I need to make a good impression, I was wondering if it wouldn’t be too much trouble if you would let me do the designing and planting of the garden? You purchase what you want in the garden, and I’ll put it in the ground. Then we can both do the watering and other maintenance of both the vegetables and the flowers. Plus, the number one benefit to this will be that I can do the planting at night, and the roots of the plants won’t be thrown into shock by the sun. I mean, though, it’s up to you, of course. It is your garden after all. I’m just the Sprixie assigned to it.”

Finally, Pinny stopped talking long enough for me to talk, and I could only think of one thing. Peace and quiet. The silence was so loud, that you could hear the bees buzzing, the birds chirping and twittering, the squirrels barking, and even the caterpillars munching on the leaves. I knew I would have to give Pinny an answer soon, or else it would go off on another tirade. Panicking, I said the first thing that popped into my head, “Sure, sounds like a good deal to me!” Immediately, I wanted to kick myself. Hard.

“Great! You and I will make a perfect team, I just know it,” Pinny started talking again as if it hadn’t even stopped. Whistling, it said, “You won’t regret this, no you won’t!

“Yo, butterflies, come on over here! Help me and Mother Combs celebrate our deal! Bring the dragonflies with you! Bees, we need some nectar, to seal the deal!” Pinny was busy motioning to other creatures from the garden and giving them commands. “Birds, trill out In a Summer Garden for us, please.

"Mother, you won’t regret this, honestly, you won’t!”

That’s how I ended up with my very own fairy gardener who helped me win the neighborhood's Best Landscape Gardener trophy last summer.