Crazy Jack enters the coffee shop,
struggling with three bulging grocery bags.
Mayor Mueller eyeballs him from his
table. “What you got there, Jack?”
“Carrots and peppers.”
“Don't throw them seeds on private
“You don't like carrots in your
“You're a nuisance.”
“Just helping nature reclaim
“You stay off Dickerson property. The
bulldozers are coming today.”
“We don't need fancy houses,
“We're growing the economy; turning
this little town into something big. We're creating jobs.”
“My job is to stitch the earth
Mueller rolls his eyes. “Listen,
Jack, I'll all about saving the environment, too.”
“You cannot simultaneously heal and
“How about a cup of coffee, Jack?”
I hold up the pot.
He sits at the bar; places his bags on
“Stop wasting your words, Jack. Spend
'em more carefully.”
“Words ain't wasted if one person
“Don't go to the Dickerson property
today. I got a bad feeling.”
“I'll be fine, honey.” He pats my
hand. “Don't you worry about a thing.”
* * *
“Jack was a hero,” Mueller says
looking towards the cameras. “Today, I call to set aside a portion
of the Dickerson property for a community garden, a place where we
can remember Jack and what he stood for.”
After the funeral, people stream into
the coffee shop, wide-eyed. Darryl Burnett sits at the bar. “How in
God's name did Jeffries hit him? I mean, he was throwing seeds, for
“I don't know.” I wipe up spilled
coffee, just to have something to do.
He looks at the traffic passing by.
“You know he was a millionaire?”
“Gave everything to charity.”
“Not everything.” I smile and lift a bag of seeds.
“Maybe Crazy Jack wasn't so crazy.”
"Yeah,” I say, fingering the
seeds and thinking about possibilities and growth.
Labels: fiction Trifecta Writing Challenge