Soulful Spark

5. Green Thumb (Steth)

Recap: Steth has a flashback of a terrible incident earlier in his life. In the present, he's living in a car with his father, Neil, and is looking for a job. 

☤ Gяєєη Thumb ☤

A scrawny man shuffled forward, peering at me, his glasses askew. “Who’s there?” he boomed, sounding gruff. I cleared my throat, contemplating how to appear professional.

“Hello, sir. I am here—“

“Scram, kid, before I call the cops. Do you not see the ‘No solicitation’ and ‘No trespassing’ signs? It’s intolerable when I’m bombarded with pleads to buy cookies, brownies, friendship bracelets, or whatever junk you’re selling these days. Kids’ puppy eyes disgust me, not to mention they always interrupt me when I’m doing something important. Now if you would kindly turn around and never set foot on this property again, I would greatly appreciate it.”

He stepped back into the house and began to close the door. Desperately, I stuck my foot out and made a gap.

“Sir,” I kept my tone calm, “I’m not selling anything. Actually, I’m looking for work. Any kind and you don’t have to pay me much. I’m just accepting donations.”

All of a sudden, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“Well, why didn’t you mention that in the first place?” He adjusted his glasses, pushing it further up on the bridge of his nose. “I apologize for earlier. It’s been a while since someone decent has visited me. Oh my, I’m forgetting my manners. I’m Mr. Morrick and you are?”

I bit my tongue, wanting to argue that he didn’t give me a chance to speak. At the same time, I didn’t want to anger him; he wasn’t someone to mess with, despite the “fragile” appearance. Meanwhile, I pondered about whether I would create an alias or stick with my real name. Could I possibly trust someone like him?

“I’m…Steth.”

“Okay, Seth. Let me introduce you to my wife and after, you’ll start working.”

Like everyone else I met, they misunderstood when I introduced myself. Most people didn’t know where my name came from. I learned from Dad that she named me, she being my biological mom. There’s a gaping hole in my heart every time she came up in my mind.

To this day, I still don’t know what she looks like and I never will. Dad claimed he shredded any picture that included her; it was too painful for him to remember. Sometimes I would ask Dad about Mom and he would tell me she was going to be away for some time. Back then, I was gullible and naïve. I pestered Dad, but he would break down and sob, so I abstained from ever mentioning her again. What I did know was she died giving birth to me. I had unintentionally killed my own mom and her blood would forever be on my hands. Dad always put on a calm face and reassured me, saying it wasn’t my fault. It’s all just a bunch of lies.

At the tender age of five, I played with plastic versions of medical tools instead of building blocks. Mom had been a nurse and Dad used to be a pharmacy technician, so I was bound to be someone in the medical field for my profession. To make a long story short, my dream was to be like Dad or a higher position. A few weeks later, Cecilia entered our lives. I took an instant liking to her, but of course she wasn’t Mom.

During my sixth birthday, Dad finally told me how I got my name. My parents knew of my ardent passion for medical objects. “Steth” is just an abbreviation of stethoscope, a tool frequently used by doctors to check the heart and breathing.

I heard the sound of running footsteps, which brought my attention back to the door. A woman, obviously Mr. Morrick’s wife, stood by his side. I’m not one to judge, but she looked like the grandmotherly type who baked cookies. Her hair was swept back in a messy bun and there were flour stains on her apron. For the next few minutes, we got acquainted with each other.

“I’m Mrs. Morrick, but please call me Gladys. If you don’t mind me asking, where are your parents?”

“Um…” I stalled. “My parents are working, but I’m meeting up with them in a few hours.”

The half-truth seemed to satisfy Gladys; she smiled again and walked away.

Mr. Morrick led me into the backyard, where a shed was located. He unlocked it and thrust a handful of tools at me: hedge trimmers, a shovel, rake, and a hoe. After, we went back to the front yard.

“Hopefully you know what you’re doing, Seth. I want all these shrubs to be perfect. Also, rake those leaves in a neat pile. Plus, the lawn needs to be watered. Tell me when you’re finished and come around back. My wife wants a garden. If you mess up, that’s not my problem. I don’t give second chances anyway.”

“No need to worry, sir. I’m a jack-of-all-trades,” I lied through my teeth. Technically, my inclination was dealing with medical situations, but he didn’t need to know that. Mr. Morrick simply grunted and left me to the job.

Luckily, I had observed Dad on how to work on yards. Before long, I broke out into a sweat. My body was clearly not built for any strenuous activities. Both my hands were starting to shake and all limbs were aching. I pushed myself and two hours later, the yard was made anew.

Mr. Morrick came to inspect and nodded in approval. “Not half bad. Let’s do some planting now.”

I reentered the backyard through a side gate and he threw me a pack of seeds. “Start with those and we’ll see how it turns out.”

Setting down the hoe, I opened the pack. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.