Fertile Soil

A woman digging in her garden discovers something unexpected. The
weather man was right for a change. He had forecast heavy rain and here
it was. The rain poured down making the soil heavier and almost
impossible for Maggy to lift the spade. Maggie was in her late 50's and
her arthritis didn't like the rain. heavy hearted, she continued until
she had finished the task she had set herself that morning, when the
weather had been fine. She went inside, and dried off.

Later she recieved a telephone call from her son, Carl. He asked all
the usual questions, how she was, how was the weather in the North. He
told her about his new job. A very technical job that he always managed
to put in very basic terms so as to not undermine his Mother. He was an
exceedingly thoughtful boy. Not at all like his patrionising father.
Carl never mentioned his father, he feared upsetting her. For he was
sure, like everyone else, that his father had gone off with that
floozy. Wherever he was, or whomever he was with, Mum was better of
without him. Carl's father 'Jack' was a nasty character. Carl knew
about the bruises his Mother would try to cover up. Since he had gone
she was a different person. Living life for herself and seemingly
enjoying every given minute of it.

It was her garden that she had gained most pleasure from. She wasout
there in all weathers. Everyone commented on it and asked, begged for
her secret. She would give advice, pass on tips and cuttings, although
she would never confess to the reason her soil was so fertile. One day,
whilst reading the local paper, she read of a gardening competition.
They were scouting the North in order to find the top garden and
gardener. The regional winner would win ?500. They would then be
entered into the national competition with a chance to win ?5,000. The
only bit that concerned her was her garden appearing in the newspaper
or on T.V. "Dont worry about him turning up after all this time", a
friend told her. Yes, of course she was worried about jack turning up,
but why should he still stop her? He'd already stopped her doing the
things she had wanted to do for so many years. Now he wasn't here, she
should just get on with things. So that was it. She made up her mind
she would do it. She would enter the competition. She sat down that
night, filled in the application form and put it in an envelope with
some pictures of her most treasured parts of the garden.

The following morning she posted the letter. She was so excited. She
had never won anything in her life. Could she really do it she
wondered? Could she pull it off? All her friends thought so. Carl was
as usual supportive of his mother's strength. From posting the letter
that morning, she spent the next few weeks waiting patiently for a
reply. And ensuring her garden was at it's best. Making sure the best
bits were seen and the dark secrets it kept were kept out of sight.
Then it came, four weeks later, a letter! She knew as soon as she
opened it that it was the reply. She sat down, not sure as to whether
to open it or not. Did she really want the attention? 'What if's'
filled her head all morning, until luchtime came and her phone call
from Carl. When he called she opened the letter and read it to him. Yes
they were coming. Her garden was one of fifty selceted in her region.
The photographer and reporter would visit on Thursday. In two days!
What a panic those following days were. Checking the garden looked at
its best. On Thursday morning, Maggie struggled to do something with
her untamed hair and find clothes which weren't completely worn out
from gardening.

By Thursday the garden was incomparible, neatly mowed, flowers in full
bloom, quite heavenly. The reporter asked some mundane questions like
"How long have you been gardening?". But the answer which impressed
most was to the question "Who helps you in the garden?" "Well nobody"
replied Maggie. If for a moment you could imagine this garden, it was
undeniably a work of art, a masterpiece and an immense accomplishment
for just one human being. They drank their tea. The reporter made some
more small talk and the photographer continued snapping occasionly,
before departing.

The next week she recieved a phone call from the reporter. Her garden
was in the top 5, a picture would be in the paper that week. She was so
happy. But the excitement didn't seem to stop. Of course, she won the
regionla competition and the ?500. Then came the national competition.
She really didn't believe that she had much chance. However, the
excitement was exhilarating and when Alan Titchmarsh, one of her
gardening heroes, came to judge her garden with his film crew, she
thought that her present life could be no more than a dream. Therefore
when she won the national competition it was more than she could dared
have dreamt of. Her triumph opened new chapters. Months passed, her
fame grew with luckily no sign of Jack. She had her own radio phone-in
slot. and appeared on T.V and constantly appeared in the papers.

Alas, the physical excitement overwhelmed her when driving home one
stormy afternoon. She clenched her chest as the pain shot the life from
her body. Her car crashed into a wall and she was pronounced dead on
arrival at hospital.

After the funeral Carl decided that the garden could be opened to the
community. The local agricultural college promised to look after the
garden. The garden, like Maggie in life, was very popular. It was a
prominant featuer of the town. The agricultural college decided to add
a seating area dedicated to the memory of Maggie. In clearing earth to
lay foundations for the pergula they came accross Jack. Not with his
floozy after all, but buried in the garden. Noe people knew what made
Maggie's soil so fertile, One Human Being.