Dragons In The Garden

The flowers were prettier that day than they had been all season; a crisp sea of blues, purples, reds, and white stared up at Josephine, her dark brown eyes gazing over them in longing and surprise. They’d bloomed so beautifully with the special soil. Her brother had been right that humus really was the best thing for plants. Even the oak tree seemed bigger, thicker around, and stronger, as if no saw, no matter how sharp, could penetrate its bark.

Josephine sat outside with a pair of scissors, sun beating on her tan face. She cut the flowers’s stems at the base so they’d grow back. They needed to grow back because their life was what made her happy every year. Flowers proved the transition from winter into spring, as did the honeybees, those of which Josephine hadn’t seen any of that season. She was sad there were no bees because they usually liked her. They’d land on her fingers, buzz for a bit, and then fly away, not bothering to harm her.

However, she couldn’t smell the flowers at the moment; the only scent wafting up her nose was that of the roast. Looking over her shoulder, her deep brown eyes gazed up at the mansion where she lived with Nicholas. There was love in her eyes, a deep admiration for the cook he was, as there was admiration for her green thumb. Together they lived in harmony, their garden vast and appetites fair.

“Josephine, dinner!” he called through an open kitchen window.

She snipped a couple of tulips, dragon lilies, and roses, careful of the thorns, and carried them into the house. Almost skipping through the door, Josephine grinned at him. “So, we’re eating in the kitchen today?”

He gave her a gentle smile, peeling her fingers apart as he placed the flowers in a vase halfway filled with water. There were many vases and flowers sprinkled across the room, the aroma, a floral aroma, blending itself with that of the roast. Looking down at the table, Josephine smiling, Nicholas pulled out a chair for her. As she sat down, she watched his muscles tense and flex as he carried over the large platter of carved meat. They saved the best parts for dessert, freezing them and covering them with Nutella for later.

“Nicholas, this looks beautiful. You really are the best cook.” Josephine waited for him to sit down before picking her slice of meat.

He looked around at all the blooming flowers, leaned over the table, and kissed her lips. “And you really do have the most exquisite green thumb.”

Beginning to cut her slice into bite-sized pieces, she eyed Nicholas as he did the same. He would be finished before her, as he always was, but he waited for her to take the first bite. When she did, the light in her eyes illuminated any darker depression that may have hidden in the corners of her mind. Putting a hand up against her mouth, she chewed, swallowed, and took a drink.

“Mm… I think you outdid yourself this time, Sweetie.”

“So you like it?”

“Very much. Wait, no, I love it! It’s fantastic. What’s the bite I taste, though? It’s a slight burning in my mouth. Chili flakes?”

“I added no such thing. It must be the meat itself. You know what type this is.”

“Ah, right, that I do. Cuts like this always have a special kind of bite.”

Nicholas smiled, reaching over to touch her hand. “I love you.”

She blushed, looked away, and then recovered his gaze. “I love you, too. But, do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”

He pulled away, taking a bite of the meat, swallowing before he made any open gestures. “Why would it be?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s just that… we’re different.”

Nicholas cut deep int his slice of meat, holding a bite on his fork before he shook his head. “It’s not wrong to be different.”

“It’s just, I love you so much and I’d hate for it to be wrong.”

He set his fork and knife on his plate, turning to her, and grabbing her face in a gentle fashion with his hands. “Our love isn’t wrong. It’s the one thing that’s right.”

They kissed around the bouquet of flowers, careful for the water not to spill. Their tongues intertwined, his ocean washing upon her shore. Nicholas held onto her face, hands molding onto her high cheekbones, surrounding her large sculpted lips.

He combed his fingers through her wild brown hair, scrunching it as they kissed.

Josephine was the one to end the connection as she looked down at the platter and their plates. “Our food is getting cold.”

She licked her lips, and turned back towards her dish. Nicholas was hurt, eyebrows knitting together in a look of confusion as he touched her shoulder, watching her shrug him off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I can’t get pregnant. Every time I do….”

“Sweetheart, we’ll figure this out. I promise.”

The doorbell rang.

“Now who could that be?”

Nicholas kissed the top of her head. “Now finish your dinner. I’ll be right back.”

“Bring a knife.” Josephine smiled, eyes glued on her plate.

The doorbell rang again. Snatching a dirty knife off the counter, he quickly wiped it off on his shirt, and slid it up his sleeve. In the kitchen, Josephine chewed on a bite of roast. In the entryway, Nicholas greeted the guest and told him to come in. What their neighbor needed was a little sugar, as all neighbors would ask for from time to time. As Nicholas slipped behind him to lock the door, the knife dropped out of his sleeve and into his hand. With a quick movement, he sliced the blade across his neighbor’s neck, watching their next meal drop to his knees. Either he or Josephine would have to clean the wooden floor quickly so the blood wouldn’t stain.

“I’m not sure if we should eat this one, Josephine,” he called into the kitchen.

Josephine was out of the kitchen in seconds, cloth napkin in her hand as she dabbed at her mouth. “Why not?”

“Look at him.”

“Oh, Larry Senft… a politician. He’ll give us indigestion.”

“He’d make lovely humus for your garden.”

Josephine laughed, and looked at him pointedly. “Our garden. You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy the flowers, too.”

“Of course I enjoy the flowers.”

“I’ll get the carving knife.”

“Can’t we wait until after dessert? Those hazelnut butter ladyfingers aren’t going to stay fresh forever.”

Josephine leaned over and kissed Nicholas on the lips, lacing her fingers with his. “Of course, brother, we can wait until after dessert. But what about the blood?”

“Don’t worry about it, my beautiful sister. I’ll take care of it, but right now our food is getting cold.”

They strode back into the kitchen and finished eating the History teacher from the local high school, saving the rest for soil, before returning to the corpse in the entryway.