The Secret Garden Of Martha Grim
by Richard A.Lopez @1992
Page 20


From her window on the veranda, just above the west portico, Martha could see the whole street. She could see her whole west garden, and the street below. The windows were tinted so, that no one could see inside, but she could stand here, unclothed as the day she was born, caressed by the leaves of the 'sanguinolentum Vitus' or Blood vine. The cool waxy leaves were like a lovers touch, holding and stroking her, cupping her chin, her breasts, stroking her hair. Their blood red in stark contrast to her alabaster skin.

Who'd have thought that such a vast network of vine, flowers and trees could grow from one branch. Certainly not her parents. They thought it was just another species of orchid for the Greenhouse. Silly people. How stupid had they been. How surprised had they been when, after all their failure to grow it, their special feeds and fertilizers, all their so-called expertise, and it was she, know nothing Martha who figured out how to save the plant. Albeit by accident, but still, were it not for her falling and cutting her arm on that trowel, the blood dripping onto the poor dying plant. It responded almost immediately.
She remembered her surprise when she first caught sight of the deep red bloom. The way the vines stretched out, like they were reaching for the sunlight. But it wasn't the sun they were reaching for, it was her! They wanted Martha! And she gave to them..all they wanted. The sting of the thorns sent waves of pain and ecstasy through her like bolts of electricity! She was only fourteen, but she had never felt so alive because the plant not only took, It gave!
There was something in the venom of those stings, she reacted to it in such a way, that she knew she had to care for this Creature. It was not a just a plant, it was a living, thinking being! As it germinated, the seedlings would call to her, cry to be fed. And she would feed them. Small animals at first, rodents, birds, anything that could be caught
and drained. It wasn't long before, with a little research, she had found the true name of the vine.
'Sanguinolentum Vitus', the Blood Vine, or the "Red Creeper" as the Botanist had called it. He said it was more like a "weed" than a plant, not much of anything, should just get rid of it. The fool. What did he know. Martha kept his name, though, she would show him how much of a "weed" her beautiful flowers were.
Soon they were taking over her room. She slept on a bed of vines and leaves, that covered her once pillow soft mattress. Vines crawled up the walls, covered the ceiling, floor, windows. Her parents, found one of the flowering plants in the Greenhouse, almost as big as German Shepard dog, tucked away in the northwest corner. When they attempted to dislodge the vine from the log base, well, Mother was not as fast as Father. The Vine lived up to its derogatory name of "Creeper" as it sent out tendril ls to encircle her mother's legs. She did not feel the vines on her legs so much as she did the thorns, once the plant made its grab for her. Then it was too late. The thorns bit deep, as they took hold of her legs and thighs, knocking her off balance. Martha was in the kitchen when she heard her Mother's screams fill the house. A mix of terror and surprise.
When Martha had run into the Greenhouse, what she saw was almost comical in her eyes. Mother was entangled and bleeding on the floor, the vine creeping and whipping about her, Father was tearing at madly! A small trowel in one hand, slashing and rending the Vine. Each cut was like a tear at her own soul! This was the one of the first seedlings, her baby, and he was killing it!
Her Father raised the trowel and stabbed it into the mossy log. A thick, viscus sap, bubbled from the wound, and a long, low moan could be heard, filling the Greenhouse. For one moment, Martha thought it was coming from deep within her very being, but no, it was the plant, it was calling for her. Calling for her to save it from it's tormentors.

"STOP!" She screamed at them, as they toiled with the vine. "You're killing it, stop it!" she cried, the tears were flowing down her face, staining her pale green dress.

"Martha!" Her Father called in earnest, "Girl quickly, that can of Ammonia and sulphur...there to your right! hurry girl, it will kill anything!" he was pointing to a spray can to her right.."MARTHA GODDAMN IT GIRL! THE CAN!" he yelled as a vine whipped out and slashed at his face, her Mother struggling to keep the vines away from her throat, looked to her with pleading eyes.

It was at that moment that Martha Grim made her choice in this world. She knew who her family was. This people struggling with her child, they were not her parents. Her parents loved the botanical world. They would never create anything that would poison it.
She knew what she had to do. Who had to be saved.
Looking up, she noticed the large skylight to the Greenhouse was opened. She knew that it was in a state of repair, and the motor was not to be engaged, Father had said that the skylight would come down too fast, causing to glass to shatter. Anyone caught under that could be cut to ribbons, in a hale of glass shards.
Instead of walking to her right, Martha walked off to her left, towards the house, and the controls for the skylight.
Her parents were screaming for her now.
Her Father tried to rise to go after her, the vine wrapped more tendrills around his legs and arms, holding him down. The thorns ripped and bit into him mercilessly, almost vengefully, he thought. "This can't be happening! Martha dammit, help us!" he screamed.."Pleas..." his words were cut off by the vine that encircled his throat and squeezed. strangling as it pulled him backwards.

Martha walked in a dream state. Her parents pleas lost among the rustling of the vines and leaves. Slowly her hand reached out to the panel that held the controls for the skylight. Entering the door to the pantry, she gave one last look to the people that were flailing there on the floor. Silly little mammals, she thought, and pressed the red button marked "close". There was a loud groan and screech of metal upon metal, as the the gears protested, then gave way to the weight of the heavy metal frame and glass panels. She watched as it rocked for a moment, then with another louder groan, the panel came rushing down to slam shut against the metal frame!
The shattering of glass mingled with the screams of her parents, and the shards rained down razor sharp death upon them.

The silence was deafening. Her parents lay still, impaled amongst their precious orchids and English roses. Martha walked out, past their bodies, through the blood, and gently picked up the mossy covered log. She removed two shards of glass, then ever so lightly, placed it in a pool of blood.

Slowly, very slowly, the vines extended from the log, and rolled out into the pooling blood. Playing among the liquid and then the thorns extended, flexing like fingers, the vines pulsating, drinking deeply. The cuts in the log were healing almost immediately! Martha watched in awe, as a vine reached out to her, dripping crimson, it wrapped around her wrist, slender needles pierced her skin.
But it was not taking blood, it was giving! She felt the hot mixture of venom and her parents blood course through her veins. She was becoming one with the vine. She was becoming "Sanguinolentum hominus Vitus!"
The Human Blood Vine!
She was in heaven!

Before she knew it, there was no more blood. the log was covered in waxy red blooms, and her parents bodies were
lying where they had been..covered in glass..with just enough blood to look like an accident.

Martha took the log inside. It was as light as a feather. She'd call the authorities later....maybe. Maybe they'd stay where they lay, good food for the other plants.

Maybe..

She went inside..