Snails

I would like to dedicate this to my sister Laura who inspired this tale by her tender loving car for her dear garden.

Unnoticed, ten year old Benji walked up to Mrs. Caterfield’s porch. She was relaxing on a small rickety swing, letting her wrinkles soak up the sun and looking out at the peaceful afternoon. He cleared his throat and said loudly, “Mrs. Caterfield, I am here for piano lessons.”

Distracted, she suddenly looked up at him asking, “Huh?” then after a moment recognition said, “Oh yes! Benji you are right on time.” With some difficulty from her tired worn out body she got up to walk him into the house, when she stopped half way down the steps. “Hold on.” she whispered. With a step to quick for a lady her age, she stammered back to her seat. As she lifted a heavy shot gun from the swing, Benji’s eyes grew wide, “Mrs. Caterfield I think-”.

But she wasn’t paying any attention to him. She planted her feet firmly on the porch and pointed the gun toward the front lawn, just right of Benji, “Now hold steady boy.” Benji turned to see what she was aiming for. All he could see was her little garden nestled against the house and the quiet street. With a jump, Benji quickly covered his ears as a loud BAG shot through the neighborhood. Mrs. Caterfield’s raspy voice shouted loudly, “Damn! Missed him.” But Benji still couldn’t see any thing worth shooting at.

She pulled another shell from the pocket of her flowery pink dress and reloaded her gun. Benji was still covering his ears, looking for her target. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mrs. Taylor across the street handling a bag of groceries and trying to hurry her kids into the house, looking worriedly at Benji, Mrs. Caterfield and the shot gun. He wavered gingerly and turned just in time to see a large snail splatter across the lettuce leaves and white picket fence in the garden. “Got him! Should teach those snails to eat lettuce out of my garden.”

Wide eyed and shocked Benji stood staring at the lettuce leaf now blown to shreds. Holding the shot gun like a walking cane, she smiled and asked, “Well dear, would you like a cookie before practice, their freshly baked?”