Poisoned Petals (2 page)

“Peggy!” Pete Delmond, a botanist who’d come out from the North Carolina Zoo in Asheboro, shook his head. “I can’t believe
Helianthus schweinitzii
is growing down there! They don’t usually like to get their feet wet!”

“I know,” she yelled back, trying to get past the roar of traffic that whizzed by every few seconds on the busy road. No wonder they wanted to expand! “But here they are anyway.”

“I know! It’s wonderful! I think I see some smaller clumps down this way!”

Peggy watched him walk down the road with his own NCDOT escort. The truck to take these precious few survivors of man’s expansion to their new home was waiting. She held open her burlap bag a little lower and wider. The man beside her shoveled the new green stalks and tubers into the opening.

“How many of these do we have to get?” Jenks wiped mosquitoes from his chunky, sun-browned face.

“All of them. Someday I hope there will be plenty of Schweinitz’s sunflowers, bluegrass, and cardinal flowers in the new prairie areas we’re creating. For now, we have to save what we can.”

“Why create prairies in a state where there are only mountains and trees?”

“Because there used to be vast prairies here, just like in the Midwest. They were created by the native tribes clearing the land for agriculture. And by the elk and buffalo.”

“Elk and buffalo?” He laughed and pushed his hard hat back on his balding head. “No way!”

“Yes. Large herds. Nothing like the size in the western states, but plenty to go around.”

“That’s amazing! You do this for a living? This history stuff?”

“No. I teach botany at Queens University in Charlotte and run a garden shop in Brevard Court. Would you like me to spray some of this on you to keep the mosquitoes away?”

“Nah. I work outside all year. A few bugs don’t bother me.”

“All right.”

“How’d you even know these Schwein-whatever sunflowers were here, if you’re not from Stanly County?”

Peggy smiled. “Because the Historic Land Trust goes through counties around the state and documents all the flowers, animals, and geological landmarks that should be preserved to keep an area’s historical heritage intact. I’m sure you’ve been to Town Creek Indian Mound.”

“Yeah.” He deposited another group of tubers into the bag with a grunt. “That place is awesome! My kids love it!”

“I agree. But it wouldn’t be here if people hadn’t fought to preserve it. These flowers were here ten thousand years ago when those tribes settled here and in the Uwharrie Mountains around us. I think the least we can do is take a few hours to save them for future generations.”

He shrugged. “I guess. I only know doing this delayed starting the road project by three weeks. That means time and money were lost. It hardly seems fair to the taxpayers who pay my salary.”

“Once these flowers are gone, they’re gone forever. Surely a part of our past must be worth a few weeks, even to taxpayers.”

“Maybe.” He shoveled another load into a new bag she held open. “You know a lot about history, huh?”

“Not all history. I just know the history of these plants.”

“Peggy!” Pete called again from his perch five feet above them on the side of the ditch. “We got the smaller clumps. Are you almost done down there?”

“Almost!”

“Good! I’m going over here to look at some dock that’s growing. I think it might be prairie dock. Unless you need help?”

“No, we’re fine.”

A late-model, red Buick stopped, and a short black man in an ill-fitting tan suit got out. He watched them for a few minutes, then cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, “This is church property!” He pointed to the church sign near where they were digging. “You can’t dig there!”

“I got a permit that says I can,” Jenks replied. “And this isn’t church property. It belongs to the state. This is NCDOT right-of-way.”

“Are you sure about that?” the other man demanded.

“Sure as it won’t be here once they finish widening this road into Albemarle.”

“I should probably see your permit.”

“Jesus!” The NCDOT supervisor searched his pockets to find the permit. “Anything else?”

Peggy realized she knew the man who was waiting to see the permit. “Luther? Is that you?” She’d known him for over thirty years, but they were never close. She
was
close to his brother, Darmus. But Luther was a prickly man. The wrong word could set him off.

He squinted down at her. “Peggy Lee? What are
you
doing down there?”

The supervisor groaned. “So you two know each other? That sounds about right!”

“I’ll be up in a minute, and we can talk.” She smiled at the man beside her. “I don’t think you’ll need that permit now. We’ll be fine.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

They finished bagging the last of the sunflowers. Peggy dragged one of the bags with her as she started to climb out of the ditch. It was heavy and extra full, because she was taking a few plants back with her to Charlotte for the Community Garden, as well as a few for her yard.

But Peggy hadn’t considered how steep the embankment was to climb. Coming down had only involved slipping and sliding down the tall grass. She was going to have to crawl out of the ditch on all fours, as embarrassing as that sounded, with Jenks coming right up behind her.

The bag of tubers was like a dead weight, pulling her back down each time she tried to crawl up. She tried to get her feet into secure places and push herself up. Each time the clumps of grass she tried to use to pull herself up with ripped out of the crumbling earth.

“Need some help?” Jenks came right up under her pitiful attempt to get out.

“It’s a little harder going up.” She opened her mouth to say more and laughed a little nervously. Only a squeak came out as Jenks put his hand on her backside and propelled her to the top of the embankment. She had to drop her burlap bag so she could grab the tufts of grass and pull herself the rest of the way out. A car sped by only a few feet from her face.

“I’ll take these to the truck.” Jenks came up after her with all the bags of tubers slung over one shoulder. “Are we done here?”

“If Pete got the others, that’s it.” Peggy took a step back from the road as another car zoomed by. “Thanks for your help.” She handed him her vest, conscious of Luther waiting to talk to her.

“Yeah. Right.” The supervisor tucked her vest under his arm. “Are you showing me where to take these plants?”

“No. Pete’s going with you.” She waved to the other botanist who was waiting by the truck.

“Great.” Jenks sighed and picked up his bags. “Thanks for coming out. Now we can get going on the road project.”

“My pleasure. Thanks for all your tolerance.”

He grinned at her. “Sure thing. If you can climb down there and don’t mind looking like something the cat dragged in, I can take a few hours on the county and help you out. Nice meeting you, Dr. Lee.”

“What was that all about?” Luther watched Jenks as he walked toward the truck.

“Just relocating some endangered plants. You know me. I’m all about the plants.” Her voice reflected the awkwardness of their meeting.

He was gaunt beneath his suit. She was sure she could see every bone. His head was skull-like, dark skin stretched tight across his features. He had been a much heavier man until his recent bout with cancer. “I didn’t know your church was out here. I thought you were still in Rock Hill.”

“We moved here last year. How is my brother?”

“I haven’t seen him in a few days, but I’m sure he’s fine. Always busy.” Peggy wasn’t surprised Luther didn’t know how Darmus was doing. The two brothers had never been particularly close since she’d known them.

The three of them had attended the University of South Carolina at Columbia more than twenty years ago. Peggy was from Charleston. Darmus and Luther were from Blacks-burg, South Carolina. Peggy and Darmus became lifelong friends. Luther avoided them when he could.

“Good. Good.” Luther adopted his pulpit stance, hands pulled behind his back. “He’s an important person now. Head of Feed America. That’s a worthy group. It was started by the Council of Churches, you know.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” She waved to Pete and the NCDOT supervisor as they started up the bright yellow truck and drove past them.

“I’ll never understand why there isn’t a pastor at the helm,” Luther complained as he did every time they talked. “Darmus is a fine choice. Just fine. But a man of God would have been better.”

“I don’t see how anyone could do it better than Darmus. Feed America is thriving.” Peggy knew the group Darmus had started to help feed the hungry was already in every state and had reached out to several other countries.

Luther and Darmus always had a rivalry problem. They were almost twenty years apart and from a large family. Luther was the baby and Darmus the eldest child. Darmus was charismatic and a popular overachiever. But he waited to go to school until his eight brothers and sisters were through and was almost forty when he started college. That was how he came to be at school at the same time as his much younger brother.

During college Luther lurked on the sidelines and complained about his own lack of popularity without ever appreciating what his brother had done for him by taking care of him when their parents were killed in a car accident. He was as dark and dreary as Darmus was light and sunny.

“I suppose that’s true enough,” Luther half agreed. “But a man of God—”

“Well, I have to go.” Peggy knew she had to get away. She didn’t agree with him but didn’t want to argue, either. Fifteen minutes with Luther was like an hour in purgatory. “I’m pretty busy myself right now with the shop. I’ll tell Darmus I saw you. Bye, Luther.”

“Peggy, I think I might be dying.”

She paused, surprised at what he said and not sure what to answer. Luther very rarely said personal things to her.

“I’m sorry. Has the doctor said something to you?”

“He doesn’t have to. I know what it looks like. I saw it happen to Rebecca. Darmus and I watched her go. There was nothing we could do.”

Rebecca, his older sister, had died from cancer about two years ago, just after Luther found out about his own disease. There were only the three of them left from the family. Her death, when it came, had been a terrible blow to the two brothers.

Peggy wanted to reassure him. But his sallow face and dwindling frame told its own story. The disease had taken its toll on him.

“I know.” Peggy bit her lip, trying to decide what to say to comfort him. With anyone else, it would have been simple. She would have hugged them and found the words of comfort she needed. But with Luther, she wasn’t sure what to do, so she tried to be respectful and careful with her words. “You’re a man of faith. You’ve got God on your side.”

“Faith!” Luther spat out the word like it was bitter fruit on his tongue. “What good is
faith
when a man can see the end? Did God save Rebecca? Will he save me?”

“I don’t know. But you’ve given counsel and solace to hundreds of people in your time as a minister. Surely, you know the answers better than I do.”

“I know the answers.” He started walking toward his car, his thin shoulders hunching forward. “There is nothing out there but blackness, Peggy. We are all born of sin and we will all return to the dust of the grave.
That
is the answer.”

Peggy was relieved when he got in his car and left without another word. She knew Rebecca’s death had embittered both brothers. Rebecca had been the oldest sister, and she’d acted as a mother to all the children. Watching her die had been horrible for her brothers.

But Luther’s new attitude stunned Peggy. His cancer had taken away his belief in God, which had sustained him through his sister’s death. Without that it seemed there was nothing left for him.

She understood that terrible darkness. Her husband, John Lee, had been killed two years before when he’d been called to a routine domestic violence case. There was no warning, no premonition of disaster. He kissed her good-bye, left the house like he did a thousand other times, and two hours later, his partner knocked on her door to tell her John was dead.

Peggy hadn’t been sure she would ever be able to crawl out of that black hole. Nothing could fill it in the days and weeks after John died. But finally, light began to creep into her world. She began to feel the warmth of the sun on her face and hear the cries of the songbirds in the morning. She was still alive. John was dead, but she had to live on without him.

It took her a long time to go back to church. She blamed God for what happened. She blamed the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department for not knowing how dangerous the situation was. She was furious and totally lost.

Then she walked out into the yard they’d both loved one morning and decided to start the garden shop they’d always talked about. It took every penny she could borrow and scrape together, including John’s entire pension, to get the shop going. But once it was there, she realized it was the balm her soul needed. When she was there, she was with John.

But Darmus and Luther hadn’t come to any place like that after Rebecca died. They still both grieved for her. Darmus kept going with his classes at UNC-Charlotte where he taught botany, and his Feed America group continued to grow. Luther developed cancer.

Now Darmus was on the verge of losing his brother, too. She didn’t want to know how that would affect him.

On impulse, she took out her cell phone and called Darmus. She reached his voice mail. Despite the fact that he was a very public figure, Darmus was still a very private man. There were many times when he went for weeks without checking his messages or answering his phone to get away from everything. Sometimes it was very frustrating.

He was probably in the Community Garden. It was part of the Feed America plan, and the first garden for the masses the city of Charlotte ever had. Feed America was trying to put a large garden in every city from Richmond to New Delhi. Darmus’s principle was that no one should ever go hungry on the planet. She liked the concept, but putting it into practice had been mind numbing for him.