FLASH FICTION THIRD PLACE
Grounding, by Emma Lee
Note: Hibiscus syriacus, Rose of Sharon, is the national flower of South Korea
I eased my fingers into the soil in the base of a potted tree. You can swallow all the textbooks you want, but nothing tells you how good a patch of soil is better than your fingers. It’s also calming after dealing with a difficult customer, now sorted. I’d prefer to be on my allotment rather than here, advising people who want to play at gardening.
My allotment was my close family. My foster mother had sense to let me be when she realised I was never going to be Barbie. The garden centre was wider family, the bit with awkward cousins and obstinate uncles.
The potted tree would be fine. I looked up and saw a man in a suit.
I shook loose soil from my fingers. Suits were rarely good news. “Can I help?”
“The best feed for roses? Something high in potash.” He sounded like he was regurgitating a search engine result.
I picked up a bag. “This one.”
His suit was bespoke, had to be, a perfect fit and he was below average height and a slim build. Its dark grey seemed to highlight his almost black hair and dark brown eyes. Whatever his self-care regime was, it suited him.
He nodded and opened his arms to take it from me. His hands looked as if they’d never held a trowel.
“I’ll take it to the till.” Was he really going to get dirt on his suit? I sold him the bag. “We do deliveries.”
He assured me it would be fine to put it in his car. A sleek saloon. He’d lined the boot with a refuse sack.
“It’s for a hibiscus syriacus.” He swallowed.
I smoothed down the sack to spread the weight evenly and took a step back so he could close the boot.
“Yeah. It’s odd. Dad was the gardener. One day I saw the hibiscus. My parents were born here. But I saw the hibiscus.” His words were gabbled.
“A kind of memorial,” I suggested.
“We all want to put roots down somewhere.”
I thought of my allotment. I’d never felt that sense of being an outsider in the country I’d been born in. Being told to go home when I already was. I knew where my roots were.
“Let me know if you want me to look at it.” I wondered if his hands ever touched soil without being gloved.
He shook his head. “It was a silly idea.”
“All part of the aftercare. Sunny spot. Occasional pruning. Decent soil.” We didn’t do it for every customer. But I wanted this plant to succeed.
“That’s kind.”
“Not really—it’s hard to advise you without knowing the soil. Good earth does more than provide nutrients.”
Emma Lee‘s publications include The Significance of a Dress (Arachne, 2020) and Ghosts in the Desert (IDP, 2015). She co-edited Over Land, Over Sea (Five Leaves, 2015). She reviews for magazines, and blogs here.
