The Vegetable Museum

By Michelle Mulder

Thirteen-year-old Chloë left her whole life back in Montreal, including her mom and her best friend. Now she's stuck in Victoria with her dad and her estranged grandfather, Uli, who recently had a stroke. When Chloë agrees to help Uli look after his garden, she's determined to find out why he and her dad didn't speak to each other for years.

For decades Uli has collected seeds from people in the community, distinct varieties that have been handed down through generations. The result is a garden full of unusual and endangered produce, from pink broccoli to blue kale to purple potatoes.

But Chloë learns that the garden will soon be destroyed to make way for a new apartment complex. And the seed collection is missing! Chloë must somehow find a way to save her grandfather's legacy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
• Release date: Mar 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781459816817

Michelle Mulder

Michelle Mulder is the founding author of and has written numerous titles in the Orca Footprints series including Pedal It!, Every Last Drop, Trash Talk and Home Sweet Neighborhood. They have also written several works of fiction including The Vegetable Museum and Not a Chance. Michelle lives in Victoria, British Columbia.

Book preview

ONE

ONE

Five rows of red, yellow and green knitting, stitched onto a Stop sign. This is the most interesting thing I’ve seen since tiptoeing out of our building half an hour ago.

In Montreal right now, the streets are busy with people scraping ice off windshields, shopkeepers calling out good morning to each other, and neighbors shoveling sidewalks. Here in Victoria, though, everyone’s still asleep, like they can’t stand to face another day of taupe houses, manicured lawns and gray skies.

I touch the matted, damp yarn with one finger. I miss our old neighborhood—the smells of roasting coffee (like burnt toast until you recognize it) and spicy Ethiopian food, flower gardens sprouting in parking lots, murals appearing in alleyways overnight, and little libraries popping up in public parks. Even the yarn bombing was better there. A few months ago, someone knitted an entire rainbow sleeve for a Stop sign. This tiny little yarn tag is nothing compared to that.

Dad says I’ll drive myself crazy if I keep comparing where we are to where we were, but I can’t help it.

Fine color choice. It’s a man’s voice.

I spin around and see my grandfather smiling at me. With half of his mouth anyway. He had a stroke last year, and part of his face is paralyzed.

I don’t know him all that well—didn’t see him much until we moved in across the street—but he’s an unusual guy. His big passion is growing heirloom vegetables, which as far as I can tell means weird ones that no one else bothers with, like black tomatoes, blue lettuce and purple beans. When he first told me about them, I thought he was losing it. Dad said that some people who have strokes wind up with dementia. So when my grandfather first mentioned the vegetables, I half expected him to add that Jack and the Beanstalk is a true story, and fairies live in his compost pile.

You’re out early, I say, as if I’m not totally freaked that he snuck up on me like that. (Not that I’m scared of my own grandfather, of course. But I should have heard him at least. Jeez. One week out of the city, and I’ve lost all my street smarts.)

Morning walk, he says. Never miss it.

So I heard. He was in rough shape when he first got out of the hospital, but apparently every day he insisted on walking around the block, even if it was pouring rain.

Your handiwork? He points to the wisps of yarn.

Nah, I’d have made it bigger and more colorful. I don’t know why I say this, like I’m some kind of closet yarn bomber. I knit, but only socks and sweaters.

Fair enough. The street could use more color. He surveys the houses, lawns and boulevard. So which way now? You coming or going?

I shrug. I’m heading home, I guess.

He says nothing as we walk. He drags one leg a bit, and I wonder if he has to concentrate to get his body to move. We pass a driveway where a man in a suit is getting into a car. Morning, Uli.

My grandfather’s name is Ulrich, but everyone calls him Uli, even me. Uli waves at the man. We keep walking. At the corner, he glances up at a bare Stop sign. Another one that could use more color. Orange and yellow maybe. Or a green post with knitted petals around the sign?

I study his face for a moment and then smile. I don’t think he’s teasing me. You’re really getting into this.

Makes people stop and pay attention, he says. I like unusual.

Like the vegetables. I’ve discovered since moving here that Uli is way more interesting than I’d imagined. Dad never talked about him much. In all my thirteen years, we never once came to visit. The only thing I remembered about Uli was that he was very tall and got really excited about going to the botanical gardens the time he visited us in Montreal. And we went out for ice cream after. That’s it. Every time I asked Dad about him, he changed the subject. Then Uli had a stroke, and Dad decided the two of us should move here. Without Mom. My parents hadn’t been getting along, but I sure didn’t see this move coming.

Uli stops in front of his little house. It’s the third of three almost identical gray stucco houses with different-colored doors. Uli’s is the one on the corner, with the green door. If you drive by quickly, it looks like an ordinary place. But from here on the sidewalk, you can see that the green stuff growing in the front yard isn’t grass. It’s some other kind of plant, one you don’t have to mow. Uli calls it creeping thyme. He says that in summer, when you step on it, it smells like pizza. (That was another moment when I thought my grandfather might be completely nuts, but Dad told me later that lots of people put thyme in their tomato sauce.) To the right of the front walk is a big tree. It doesn’t have any leaves on it yet, but Uli told me it’s an apple.

A huge cedar hedge extends out from both sides of the house and frames the backyard. There’s a solid wooden gate in the hedge, just behind the apple tree, and through there, in the back, is where Uli grows his vegetables. I haven’t gone through that gate yet though—or been into the house either, for that matter, which is a bit weird. Another thing Dad won’t explain. Uli says there’s nothing to see in his garden right now anyway because it’s still winter, but that doesn’t make me any less curious. On my way to school, I walk past the sidewalk side of the hedge, and one time I noticed a bit of a hole near the far corner. I pushed a branch aside and stuck my head in, but all I could see was the back of a greenhouse. I didn’t dare go farther in, in case someone spotted me.

Here, let me show you something. Uli points at one of the cherry blossom trees that the city planted between the sidewalk and the road. It’s all bark and pink blossoms right now, even though other trees—like the apple in Uli’s yard—are still completely bare. The blossoms were the first thing I noticed when we got here last week. I took a picture to send to Mom, because she’d told me about them. She’s been to the west coast for conferences at this time of year. She said sometimes whole streets are lined with pink blossoms. If you walk under them, they shower petals on you, and it’s called a pink-out because it happens while everyone else in the country is battling winter blizzards and whiteouts.

These trees look different from the ones Mom showed me in pictures though. These ones have two kinds of flowers. Most of them are super frilly, but the blossoms on the lower branches are simpler and a different shade of pink. Uli reaches up and cups a few of the less-frilly flowers in one hand. Around July, these’ll turn into cherries. The dark kind. Delicious.

Huh. I thought Dad said cherry blossom trees were just for show. No fruit. And he should know. He grew up on this street, after all. Again I study my grandfather’s face, looking for a hint that he’s teasing. If he is, I can’t tell. This is my public artwork, he adds, like he planted the trees himself. Maybe he did, for all I know.

They’re beautiful, I say.

I don’t mean all the blossoms. He waves a hand at the tree. Just these ones here at the ends. I grafted on fruit-bearing cherries. Every tree for the next four blocks is fruit-bearing now. The cherries come out right at picking height, perfect for snacking in July.

I follow his gaze down the street. Sure enough, every light-pink tree has different flowers on the lower tips. Grafting? I ask. Isn’t that for skin? Like for burn victims?

He nods. Yes, but it works for trees too.

That’s actually pretty cool, I say. Like yarn bombing with live plants.

Yarn bombing? That’s what the knitting on the sign posts is called? He shakes his head. Should have a less-violent name. I’ve lived in bombed-out cities. A burst of color on a drab street is nothing like that.

You were in a bombing? I ask.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Now you need to get ready for school.

I don’t argue. In five minutes, I’ve already learned more about my grandfather than I ever did from my dad. I give Uli a quick hug. See you later. Maybe after school?

When I reach the other sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn to see him moving slowly toward me. I go back to save him a trip.

This neighborhood might look plain at first, he says, but I know you’ll find its heartbeat. I hope you’ll be very happy here.

He talks like this is a permanent move, like we’ll be here forever. I don’t want to disappoint him, but as far as I can tell, we’ve only come to Victoria to wait. For any number of things. For Uli to be fine on his own again. Or for Dad to find a better job. Or for him and Mom to want to live together again. Or all, or none, of the above. As soon as we’re done waiting, we’ll go back to Montreal and continue on with our lives.

I don’t want to hurt Uli’s feelings though. Instead I think about the cherry blossoms and how getting to know my grandfather might be the only decent thing that comes out of this temporary transplant to this side of the country. Thanks. I put a hand on his weak arm. He clasps my hand with his good one.

TWO

I know the apartment will be empty when I get back. A few months ago, you’d never have caught Dad awake before eight.

Reviews for The Vegetable Museum

[fionaanne · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A solid novel about family and community, which offers plenty of scope for discussion on environmental themes.

Uprooted from her life in Montreal, Chloe is unhappy about being dragged to Victoria by her father and separated from her mother. But she quickly bonds with her grandfather, whose stroke was the reason for the move. When he suffers a second stroke, she becomes obsessed with finding his collection of heirloom seeds. The supporting characters are charming although the narrator herself feels under-developed and the pacing, which is solid for most of the tale, falters at the end with an abbreviated solution to the problem and too rapid a resolution. The parents marital problems are very believable and add dimension to this simple story.

Many thanks to Orca Book Publishers for the advance reading copy.

[glanecia · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received this book in exchange for an honest review. I was absolutely surprised by how much I loved this book! I didn't expect much from it, but boy, once I sat down and read, I was pulled into this story by so many heartstrings. Okay, this book is well crafted, and enjoyable enough to deserve a four, or five star rating even without the reasons I love it so much- but what really REALLY made me love this book so much, was how much I could relate to it. The grandpa reminded me of my father SO much. He kept a garden, too. It was the only thing he really did, after work. I could also relate to the sad circumstances in the book. The grandpa was basically my dad, in this story. You bet I cried.I also laughed. I love Nikko! He's such an adorable little oddball. Everyone needs a best friend like him.There were parts of the story that were predictable, but they happened at unexpected times in the story. So, I was still surprised.I have one criticism. The end of the book seems rushed - like an editor told her to cut down the word count, and wrap it up. I would have appreciated to read a plot line, where the children discover the thing I'm talking about (no spoilers from me), on their own. That would have added a lot more to the story.Still, I loved it!!! I have the ARC, but I want to buy a hardcover of the book - and all of Michelle Mulder's books!

[mszreadz · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received this book as a part of the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.The Vegetable Museum is a lighthearted, yet complex snapshot of the life of a middle school aged kid who has moved from a city to a town and from life with two parents to life with a parent and a grandparent. The story weaves in a realistic past and present that are authentic and relatable to kids experiencing similar moves. Michelle Mulder develops colorful and approachable imagery that draws kids in to the setting and helps them to understand Chloe's hopeful and complicated life. This book brings up topics such as love and loss, maintaining long distance friendships, making tough choices, being new and missing home, complicated family dynamics, and the importance of standing up for a cause, and persevering when times get hard. This was a quick read and a heartwarming story and I will definitely recommend it to my readers in my classroom!

[victoriabrodersen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Touching, subtly educational and a realistic desiction of loss on many levels. This is a great gift for any young person (I recommend 9-14) that is struggling with big life changes, even those not mentioned in the book. As a adult I could not put it down. The writing will not change your world but it it is current and in an honest tween voice without trying to be. Yes, yes yes! Pick it up. Do yourself a favor and grab two, one for your home and one for your local library.

[cattriona · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a nice story about a girl exploring her family's relationships while helping in the family garden. The characters are nicely drawn and the author tells a good story, though the ending leaves a bit to be desired. Recommended for those aged 12 and up.

[wd40sw · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the story of Chloe and her family. The turbulence that they are facing the challenges it puts on their relationships. It doesn't cover them in a bed of roses and other pretty flowers. It deals with her parents having problems choosing to separate and Chloe and her father relocating to the opposite side of the country where her paternal grandfather lives. Who is dealing with medical issues of his own on top of a strained relationship with his son. The story revolves around the chance and opportunity for a family to attempt to repair and rebuild their relationships. With communication not being a strong suit of several characters can the relationships be repaired in time. Her grandfather is eccentric and is someone you want to get to know, you can tell their is more to his backstory and I wish there was a little more of it there. The overall arc of the story is well written and enjoyable, believable and one that many children and families will be able to relate to. However the final conclusion to the main part of the story and the overall arc could have been a little more flushed out. Leaving one detail dropped late in the story seemingly unresolved. I would highly recommend this story a middle school student I would say ages 11+. Which is slightly older than the age range the publisher recommends. It deals with many issues that children face growing up and keeps the feelings realistic and could be a potential opening for discussion among students and or in families.

[book58lover · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A quick read about a young girl going through family problems. Although the ending is difficult for her it is not all hearts and flowers but more realistic to the situation. I wish I had known more about the grandfather but that came out in conversations with the father much later. And Chloe found a solution that fit for her. A good middle school read. But I agree with another reviewer: What about the red box? Could there be a sequel in the offing?

[mikedi-3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

First of all a huge thank you to Orca Book Publishers for my copy in exchange for an honest review.I enjoyed this middle aged novel by Michelle Mulder and I am recommending it to my grandchildren. I don't reveal the plot of a novel in my reviews, that is what the synopsis on the back of the book does. It has much to do with making the best of your situation, making friends and connecting with long lost relatives. Since it is about vegetables and planting (gardening) that should appeal to this age group as something different. There is a mystery to be solved and our 13 year old main character must deal with the loss of a relative.Nice story, well told. The author has a nice writing style.

[jackiewark · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Thirteen-year-old Chloe’s parents are drifting apart, but are unwavering in their love for her. So, in their attempt to ease the stifling conflict between the adults, Chloe and her dad move to Victoria to be near grandpa, Uli, who recently had a stroke. Chloe leaves Montreal and her best friend, Sofia, behind. Also troubling is the fact that Chloe barely knows her grandfather. Her dad has been estranged from him for her whole life. What is the deal with that? As the days go on though, she connects with this eccentric grandfather through his love of gardening, heirloom seeds, and connections with the community. She begins to understand his quirkiness and naturally wants to know more. She finds Uli comforting, compassionate, and interesting. So, why the divide between father and son? Chloe assumes her time here in Victoria will be soon over as she expects to move back to Montreal soon. Yet, sometimes our expectations do not materialize as we thought. Uli suffers another stroke and their lives change forever. In dealing with this, Chloe’s father has made the decision to stay. Chloe’s parents give her the choice of city and parent to live with. A tough dilemma to say the least. The Vegetable Museum is a story of a family who ran out of time to make things right. Chloe is the catalyst for the initiation of healing between father and son, but is it too-little-too-late? Makes us realize that time is short, no matter how much time we have. Hold onto each other, forgive, and make things right. She knows she must honor Uli’s legacy and save the seeds that mean so much to so many. But, what was in the red box???? Thank you to LibraryThing Early Reviewers, Orca Book Publishers, Kennedy Cullen, and Michelle Mulder for this lovely story about family ties.

[ansate · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a sweet book, but (spoiler) a little sad, so I'm not recommending it for every tween. The characters are fun and not too bratty or too perfect. The history of the vegetables fits into the story and doesn't come across as boring.