In memory of Constanze who could hear the mosses sing
Chapter One Blackberies Dalius Tomatos 2 Last week Rudy and I dragged an old table down to the road that wriggles like a worm past our house new
Blackberries grow like crazy around here I worry I’m tricking people by making them pay for something they can just reach out for It’s like selling dandelions Or flies We sell the blackberries in a box that we make with a paper plate some ninja like folding moves and a few staples The tomatoes we sell in brown lunch bags Rudy folds the tops down carefully The dahlia bouquets stand in water in tomato soup cans Customers can take the soup cans if they want but usually they don’t I love dahlias Rudy sighs He’s staring into a pink flower that’s like a cheerleader’s pom-pom or a sea anemone They’re so silly and Rudy leafs through the giant book he carries with him everywhere He found it a month ago in the attic when we first moved to 2
the farmhouse It’s a kind of dictionary called a thesaurus elegant That’s it They’re the only thing that’s both silly and elegant Hee-HAW Rumpley my donkey brays from his spot in the field in front of our house I give Rudy a look No Rudy protests Rumpley is not silly he’s awkward And he’s not elegant Rudy ruffles the pages of his thesaurus he’s dignified Rudy’s my little brother He’s eight I’m nine We moved to the country at the start of summer When we lived in the city we’d add water to a can of pink slush from the grocery store set up a card table on the sidewalk and call it a lemonade stand In those days we didn’t have dirt under our nails We never scavenged in barns 3
