---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Drowning in the Darkness” Down in the Dirt, v174 (the August 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Outside the Box the Down in the Dirt May-Aug. 2020 issues collection book		get the 422 page May-Aug. 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Earth Tea

James Bates

    My friend Frankie told me that it was all started with a dare.
    “I was eight years old and the guys I hung with dared me to eat some dirt. I thought, why not? We went to a neighbor’s garden, I grabbed a handful and crammed it all in my mouth.”
    “Geez, man,” I fought off a gag reflex, “Wasn’t it hard to swallow?”
    “Well, yeah,” Frankie grinned, sheepishly, “But I choked it down while the guys cheered.” He smiled big smile. “I was pretty hot stuff after that. Plus, I kinda liked how it tasted.”
    Frankie was a tall red head. He’s nickname was Carrot Top.
    He was also the best gardener I’d ever known, something the mayor asked me about at the City Council Meeting that June.
    “Can you talk to Frankie? I know you guys are friends. We’ve got to do something about that contest.”
    Every year in August our little town of Long Lake and the more prosperous town down the road, Belmont, vied for best produce harvested from our city’s respective community gardens. Belmont had won for the last seven years, a fact that Mayor Atkinson was getting tired of. Not to mention that her brother was Belmont’s mayor.
    Frankie readily agreed and we spent an hour wandering through our city’s scraggly vegetable patch. I was shocked to see him every now take a pinch of soil and taste it studiously.
    “What in the world are you doing?”
    “Figuring out how to win the contest,” he told me confidently. “Come on. Let’s go to my place.”
    Frankie lived by himself in a neat cottage style home. He lead me behind the garage and pointed, “This is where the good stuff is.”
    All I saw were piles of dirt, leaves, grass clippings and yard waste. “What’s this?” I asked.
    “This,” he said, grinning, “Is where the magic happens.”
    He spent the next hour mixing up a concoction with rainwater he called Earth Tea, a kind of organic (he told me) elixir he was going to use to water and feed all the plants in the vegetable garden. A task he took on for the rest of the summer.
    Under his meticulous care, we handily won the contest.
    After the award ceremony, when I went to his home to thank him, he was sitting in his backyard, looking over his verdant garden and sipping from an old mug.
    “We won,” I told him.
    He toasted me, “I had no doubt.” Then added, “You want some tea?”
    “Sure.”
    He poured me a glass of the rich brown liquid and I sipped. The flavor was scrumptious, unlike anything I’d ever tasted.
    “What is this?”
    “What do you think?” He pointed behind his garage.
    “No.”
    “Yes,” he smiled, “What’s good for the veggies, is good for us.”
    I wondered if I should be drinking this stuff, but I couldn’t help myself, it was divine. I took another healthy swallow. It was the best drink I’d ever tasted.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...