Tebok Kai

by Becky Ross Michael

Lynnette’s eyes popped open at the sounds of birds outside her window. “I love summer!” she said with a stretch. Bike riding and playing softball in the neighborhood were two of her favorites. And Lynnette loved spending time in her own yard ‒ catching bubbles, swinging, climbing, and exploring. She was now done with second grade. Lynnette would not think about school for three whole months.

But this summer felt different than last year. Lynnette’s family was planning to have a baby! Last spring, Mom had pointed up into their large maple tree. “Your baby brother or sister will be born when those leaves change color in the fall,” she said.

Lynnette knew she was lucky. None of their neighbors had babies. She watched Mom’s tummy grow rounder each week. Otherwise, things seemed much the same as last summer. Lynnette played all day ‒ pedaling, skipping, and running. She soared on her swing in the tall maple tree. 

In the summer, the skies were still light at bedtime. To help Lynnette get sleepy, Mom sometimes read to her. Other nights, Dad told Lynnette stories about pretend tiny people. They were just two inches tall and lived in their gardens.

This morning, Dad walked into the kitchen as Lynnette finished her breakfast. “When I get home from work, we need to talk about something important,” he said. 

“Please tell me now,” begged Lynnette.

“Sorry, no time. I’ll be home for dinner.” With that, Dad hurried out the door.

“What’s Dad talking about?” Lynnette found Mom working at her desk.

“What?” Mom answered. “Oh, I’m not sure. I guess you’ll need to wait and see.”

Lynnette saw that special look in Mom’s eyes. She was hiding a secret.

Waiting for Dad’s return would be hard. Lynnette wandered outside to the backyard swing. Pumping her legs into the air, she searched for something to make the day pass.  She swung back and forth with the breeze in her hair. From up high, the paths in the gardens looked like roads. That gave Lynnette an idea. “I’ll play taxi with my bike,” she thought. 

Lynnette would offer rides to the pretend tiny people from Dad’s stories. Dad had given them funny plant names he had read about in his gardening book. Lynnette liked “Mr. and Mrs. Sneezeweed.” She also remembered “Ms. Turtlehead” and “Mr. Bladderwort.” 

In Dad’s stories, the tiny people were covered in leaves. They wore bright blooms on their heads like hats. That was how Lynnette pictured them today. She stopped to pick up one or two pretend riders at a time. Lynnette carried them around the garden in her bike basket hanging from the handlebars. 

When she tired of playing taxi, Lynnette parked her bike near the garage. Mom was washing the downstairs windows. Her bag of cleaning rags rested on the ground next to her. Lynnette could smell vinegar mixed in with the water. 

“There,” said Mom. “Your father can climb the ladder to wash the upstairs windows. I’m not taking baby up there,” she added. Mom rubbed her bumpy tummy. “Now, let’s have lunch at the picnic table.”

Lynnette tried hard but could not get Mom to reveal Dad’s secret while they ate. “You’ll have to wait,” she said with twinkling eyes.

As they munched on sandwiches, Mom shooed a bee from her plate. When Lynnette saw the insect, she screeched and stood.

“Don’t be afraid,” said Mom. “Bees aren’t all that interested in stinging us. We want them to stick around our yard and gardens. They’re POLLINATORS, you know.”

“PAULA, who?” asked Lynnette.

“No,” chuckled Mom. “Pol-li-na-tors. They move pollen from one plant to the next. It’s how seed plants produce flowers, fruits, and vegetables.”

“I thought bees were just here to bother us,” Lynnette said, sitting again. “I didn’t know they were important.”

“Yes, they are,” said Mom. “Other pollinators are birds, butterflies, moths, beetles, flies, and bats. Some small animals, like mice, also move pollen. If you see those helpers around our plants, it’s usually a good thing.”

Lynnette helped Mom carry their plates and glasses into the house. Maybe more pretend tiny people needed a taxi ride? Lynnette jumped back onto her bike. She pedaled down the garden path.

Dinnertime finally arrived. Dad walked in the door as Mom set bowls of steaming vegetable stew on the table. Before he was seated, Lynnette said, “Please tell me now, Dad. I can’t wait any longer.”

Dad grinned. “Okay,” he said, sitting and picking up a dinner roll. “Well, you’re not a little kid anymore. In fact, you’ll be a big sister soon. I’ve decided you should be my helper in the garden this summer. Mom will still take care of the flowers. You and I will handle all the food crops we’re growing. And you can choose what to plant in that sunny patch by the garage. What do you think?”

Lynnette did not know what to think. She felt proud that Dad counted on her. But it sounded like a lot of work. Lynnette said, “Sure, that sounds…fun. But what will I do?”

“I already planted some seeds in the garden. It always amazes me how those little seeds give us so many fruits and veggies! And I’ll help you put other small plants into the ground. Then, I’ll show you how to pull weeds and water all our plants. When they’re ready, I’ll show you how to pick the crops. You’re right. It will be fun. And the owner of our neighborhood market said she’ll buy any food we can’t use.”

“This summer will be much different than usual,” thought Lynnette. But excitement buzzed in her head.

Over the weekend, Dad drove Lynnette downtown to the greenhouse. She chose plants to grow pole beans and tomatoes. “What about pumpkins?” she asked. 

“We could grow some small ones,” said Dad. “Our growing season is usually too short here in the North for pumpkins to reach jack-o-lantern size. But you can try it.” 

When they returned home, Lynnette grabbed a kid-sized shovel. Dad showed her how to make dirt hills for the wooden poles and bean plants. Lynnette helped dig holes for tomato plants. She mounded the soil for pumpkin plants. 

“Let’s water them, and we’ll be done for the day,” said Dad. “We’ll water the rest of the gardens tomorrow. I’ll put up metal cages to support the vines as your tomatoes grow.”

Each day, Lynnette took care of the gardening chores Dad suggested. She sometimes started watering and weeding before he said a word. 

Week after week, the sun shone on their crops. Gentle rains helped to water them. The plants grew and GREW. Lynnette’s bean vines wrapped around the poles. They sprouted slim green beans. The tomato vines with ruby-red goodness reached beyond their cages. One of the pumpkins grew large. “The pollinators have been working hard this year,” Mom declared.

Dad’s vines were packed with plump cucumbers and fat zucchini. The silk tassels on the ears of corn turned from white to darker tan. Mom made crunchy salads with cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and leaf lettuce picked by Dad and Lynnette. Most meals included cooked green beans or zucchini. And Dad showed Lynnette how to make pickles from small cucumbers.

Near the end of summer, Mom’s doctor said she needed to take it easy until after their baby was born. Mom looked worried. “I’ll finish painting the baby’s room you’ve started,” said Dad. “We’ll be ready by fall.”

“And I’ll water the flowers for you, Mom,” Lynnette offered. “Dad and I will fix our meals.”

“Everything will be okay,” Dad added. “My boss said I can work shorter days. And the growing season is almost over. The chores in the garden will be done soon.”

But Lynnette thought Dad looked worried, too. “I hear there’s a chance of an early frost next week,” he told Lynnette one afternoon. “You and I need to pick our crops this weekend. If not, we’ll miss out on selling our extras to the corner market.” 

He grabbed the rag bag from the shelf. “Before dinner, I’ll finish those upper windows your mom has asked me to wash.”

Suddenly, Lynnette heard a loud thump. Dad lay in a heap at the bottom of the ladder! His foot was twisted off to one side. Dad would not be working in the garden that weekend.

With his ankle wrapped, Dad called a family meeting. “Things will be fine,” he assured both of them. “Doc says this ankle sprain will heal in no time. He suggested I just stay off that foot when possible. We’re lucky I was near the bottom of the ladder when I slipped. I’ve got some vacation time coming to work. So Lynnette and I can take care of things around the house. And we’ll forget about the garden for this year.”

But Lynnette could not forget about the garden. She felt proud of how things had grown. Lynnette walked outside to the maple tree. She swayed slowly on her swing. In the gathering dark, Lynnette looked up into the branches. A hint of red now showed on the tips of the leaves. Soon, her baby brother or sister would be born. 

“First things first,” she said aloud. “I must figure out how to pick more of our crops before the frost.” Just then, Lynnette heard a strange noise in the grass. She dragged her feet to stop the swing. Lynnette stared at the tree. She caught movement on the ground and near a hollow in the tree trunk. Could it be?

Tiny people! Lynnette could hardly believe her eyes.

The beings were about the size of Lynnette’s thumbs. But they looked different than Dad had described in his stories. Instead of leaves and blooms, they wore faded overalls. And the scarves around their necks looked like Mom’s rag bag cloths. 

“At your service,” said one with a friendly smile. 

“We’ll help pick your crops,” said another.

That night, Lynnette waited to hear her parents softly snoring. She then crept outside to join the tiny people. They would work by the light of a full moon.

Snap, plunk. Cucumbers were picked and dropped into baskets. Swish, thunk. The tassels of cornsilk sounded. Golden ears of corn were dumped into the wheelbarrow. Snippety, snip. Green beans were pinched by tiny fingers from the vines. 

Tiny people scurried everywhere. Many walked on stilts to help them reach. Others flew on lines of gardening twine. With Lynnette’s help, they worked long into the night. Finally, everything was picked. They agreed to leave the largest pumpkin on the vine.

“Thank you so much,” Lynnette said, looking at the filled baskets and wheelbarrow. “This was very kind of you!”

“You’re welcome. We were happy to help. Now, shall we move these into the garage?” asked one of the tiny people. 

“No, this should do until morning,” she answered with a yawn. “Goodnight!”

Lynnette’s tiny friends waved goodbye and then returned to the maple tree.

***

“What’s this?” cried Dad the next morning. He gazed out the window in surprise at the picked crops.

“Well, someone’s been busy,” said Mom. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” explained Lynnette. “The light of the full moon kept me awake. So, I decided to get up and do some work.” Maybe she would tell her parents about the real tiny people ‒ someday.

“This is great!” Dad beamed. “I’ll ask some neighbors to help us get everything to the market. And we’ll save a small basket of food just for us.”

After sunset each night, the tiny people pulled an old blanket over Lynnette’s pumpkin. This protected it from the early frost so it would keep growing.

Dad’s ankle healed quickly. He finished painting the baby’s bedroom. Mom continued to take it easy. Before long, Lynnette’s healthy baby brother was born. 

And that last pumpkin on the vine grew large enough to make a smiling jack-o-lantern!

© 2024 tebokkai

Photo Credit: Mike Erskine 

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