AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 3
Brady took Emma down into the garden the next morning. She had planted some papaya seeds, ones he’d helped her scoop out and dry then store in plastic baggies. He’d noticed yesterday that many of them had sprouted. He was going to show her how to transplant them so they would be prepared to be planted directly into the garden after they were hardened. With any luck, by the time Maggie got back, they’d have little papaya trees, enough for a grove, well on their way to reaching a foot tall.
“Daddy, Mama said she’s going on a trip in three days. Did she tell you that?”
“Of course she did. She tells me about everything.”
“Everything?” Emma’s eyes were wide and questioning.
Brady chuckled. “Well, as you know, women sometimes have secrets, don’t they?” He squatted in front of Emma so he could look her eye to eye. “I’m sure you have some secrets, just like your mother.”
“That’s silly, Daddy. I don’t have any secrets, I tell everything I can to Tate, and I figured Tate probably tells you, so what would be the point of having a secret then?”
“Where is Tate?” Brady asked as he stood, gazing toward the back porch.
“He’s sleeping with Mama. When I got up, he snuggled next to her. And then I heard you making coffee, and I decided to come down here with you. But I don’t think Tate was ready to wake up yet. Maybe he knows Mama’s going to be gone and just wanted to sleep a little bit longer with her.”
Brady remarked how wide and innocent Emma’s little face looked, a miniature version of her mother’s. Emma could always find some colorful story about what was going on around her, a creative outlet, and demonstrated her tremendous imagination.
“That must be it, Emma. I think Tate knows she’s leaving too. Good for Tate,” Brady added. “Now, let’s go see the surprise I have for you.”
Emma placed her hand inside of Brady’s as he carried a small hand shovel and several black gallon plastic pots. He also picked up a stack of half a dozen six-pack seed starters and brought them in a red bucket as well. He opened the glass door to the greenhouse he’d crafted before Maggie and Emma came to live with him.
“There.” He showed Emma the little green seedlings on the bench as he lifted her to sit beside them. Four one-gallon pots were filled with them, each not larger than an inch tall.
Emma’s face erupted into a huge smile as she squealed with her excitement. “It happened, just like you told me, Daddy. Look at that; it’s new life. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, just like the baby chicks. It’s new life but plants. These are all going to grow into tall trees, maybe twice as tall as I am. And they will give us fruit all year long, as long as we do our part to feed them and keep them away from the frost.”
“So now what do we do? When can we put them in the garden?” Emma asked.
“Today, we’re going to transplant a few into larger pots and wait until they get tall enough to place out in the garden. If all of these seedlings take, you’re going to have a huge papaya patch.”
“I love papayas. They’re my favorite fruit—except strawberries!”
“Yes, and I bought some special strawberry plants today at the market too. These are white Alpine strawberries. We’ll plant them after we take care of these.”
Brady showed Emma how to carefully take the seedlings out of the larger pot and separate them into singles gently without damaging too much of their stringy roots. He placed one seedling in each of the six-pack compartments, carefully adding vegetable potting soil to fill around the root system and then watering it with a watering can. He did the second batch and then handed the small watering can to Emma so she could water her new family. As the silvery liquid descended on the little green plants, soaking into the dark soil, her eyes danced and her smile widened. Brady could see that she felt like it was magic.
And it was. It was magic being here on this morning with Emma. Emma surviving Maggie’s ordeal in Mexico was magic and a miracle, also that she took so well to living here, tending the chickens, the garden, and loving everything Brady loved. She was even devoted to Tate, and that was mutual.
Next, he allowed Emma to carefully separate the seedlings with her tiny fingers and place them in the six packs. They decided to wait on the rest of the starts and transplant them a little bit later. This would give them eighteen to twenty good trees from which to choose maybe the hardiest five to ten or so, and the rest of them they could sell or trade at the market.
“One thing about papaya trees from seed is that you aren’t always sure what you’ll get.”
Emma frowned.
“What I mean is, papayas come in male trees and flowers, female trees and flowers, and bisexual trees and flowers that contain both the male and female flowers on them together. You have to plant a bunch, unless you know up front that you have a fruiting tree. But you always need bees, butterflies, and other insects to cross-pollinate them somehow or you’ll get skinny, tasteless fruit from a male plant.”
“How do you tell it’s a male plant?”
“You can tell by the flower or flowers it produces. Like I said, some have both kinds of flowers on them, some have only male or female flowers only. So you need a variety to make sure you get lots of good-tasting fruit. The male fruits are like—” He thought about how he could explain it better. “Well, it’s like roosters. You know we only need one rooster for a flock of hens. Too many messes everything up.”
“I think that’s funny, Daddy. Poor roosters.”
Emma knew full well that most their excess roosters were either made into petfood for Tate or wound up being sold for chicken stew at the market.
“What will we sell these for, if we don’t plant them in our garden, Daddy?”
