And now my friends...a little something off the beaten path..

Hi all..I know its been a while, have been busy..and tired..little of both...but see, I was going through my papers and I came across an unfinished something..so over the course of the next fifteen days...I'm going to bore you with a little something I started writing back in '92 Called

THE SECRET GARDEN OF MARTHA GRIM...
By Richard A. Lopez
(c)1992

Willie Cole had been a gardener for three years. Three very hard years, and in that time he had seen many types of landscapes. From Old lady Taylor's weed patch (which she had the nerve to call a lawn), to John Hawkins finely manicured front yard, with the roses his wife loved so much. But he had never seen, nor had he ever been so enticed by grounds such as those of the Grim House.
Or the "Jungle House", as the neighborhood kids referred to Martha Grim's Victorian styled home, on Maplethorn street. Willie serviced just about every house on Maplethorn. Every one that is, but for Ms.Grim's. It was the last house on the that cul-de-sac, a street he considered his own. He'd even gone to such lengths as severly beating one other gardener who had solicited for business on the street.

Yes, Willie thought of this as his street, and he would not rest until the "Jungle House" was his too. The house was completely surrounded by six foot brick wall, topped with deadly looking wrought iron spikes. It was as ominous looking as it was foreboding. The only way in or out, was through an equally high wought iron dual gate, topped with the same vicious looking spikes. Willie had no illusions about the sharpness of those spikes.
Whoever built this baby, was not in the habit of entertaining guests, nor did it appear that there had ever been any.
To the best of his knowledge, Willie could never remember seeing anyone but the owner ever coming or going. Still, the property had to be maintained. But, by who?
He'd been trying to get the Grim account for two years, only to be turned down, every time. From he could make out, while working on the Simpson house directly across the way, when he looked through the gates, he could see an almost obscenly green lawn covering every square inch from gate to front door.

The sun was blocked by the shade of two huge Oak trees, they shaded just about everything, yet the flowers still bloomed! And what flowers! The colors, purples and greens, blues and yellows. So vibrant that they almost hurt to look at. The roses were the scariest of all. Big as softballs, but the color, The color is what got him. The red was so deep, almost as dark as blood. He'd never seen a rose so dark a red.
For the most part, he could recognize a few of the shrubs and plants, but the majority of the flowers eluded him. Try as he might, even going to the local library yeilded no results. That did not concern him, though. What did was the colors.
So vibrant, so deep. They almost seemed alive. Almost hypnotic.
If he could only get her secret, he'd make money hand over fist.
"Yeah," he wondered aloud.."If only I could get that broads secret to what kind of fertalizer she was using, I'd have all these losers paying mega-bucks to have flower beds as beautiful as hers."
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To be continued....