Mr. Rot’s Garden

By Kreffan Fox Bunker

“On a hot Sunday afternoon, in the town of Violet Bloom, the aged and wise Mr. Rot sat on his porch. He sat upon a chair that at one time belonged to his grandfather, and for the moment, he was contemplating life. He may have been thinking about his lack of a romantic relationship, which had been the case all his life. Or it could have been a thought regarding worldly occurrences. Or maybe it was just what to have for lunch . . .”

Until now, seventy-five-year old Leo Rot had led a comfortable, if basic, life, with his parents in Violet Bloom—the small town where his family had lived for generations. That life is upended as he finds himself plagued by a series of events beyond his control. Family crises, incorrigible teenagers, an intractable rodent problem, and a hidden enemy will push Mr. Rot in a test of wills and character. Ultimately, he is thrust into a key role in finding the answer to his own mysterious happenings while inadvertently solving a puzzle in Violet Bloom’s past. This book tells the tale of how this new chapter in his life unfolds in unexpected ways, forcing the quirky senior citizen and others out of their comfort zones and forging new and surprising friendships along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984548337

Kreffan Fox Bunker

Kreffan Fox Bunker was born in 2001. In sixth grade, his love of writing was fostered when a favorite teacher encouraged him to submit a story to his school’s creative writing program for publication. Revisiting that book years later, Kreffan decided that there was still much of the tale yet to be told. Mr. Rot’s Garden takes the initial short story to new lengths in hopes to share his quirky character with additional cohorts of readers. It is hoped this work will resonate with those who share the author’s empathy for the challenges of technology and the recognition that life is richer when when experienced with friends of many ages and perspectives.

Book preview

Prologue

The town of Violet Bloom was a very quiet yet functional location. It had been established in the ninth month on the sixteenth day of the year 1891. This, as we know, was a long time before the present and is generally considered a less advanced time. Certainly, in the late nineteenth century, clothes, literature, stamps, and other things were all different. Even the U.S. currency wasn’t what we have now; for example, Lincoln shield reverse pennies were nonexistent and instead Indian head pennies were in circulation. No phones, computers, television or modern medical facilities were to be had. Luckily, the population in this town was very clever, amused themselves, and cared for one another in times of need.

Violet Bloom’s first mayor previously had a very simple occupation; he patiently went out on the street several times a day and kneeled at people’s feet with a worn cloth. Yes, indeed, he was what society calls a shoe shiner, perhaps the least beneficial job known to man. However, he moved to the town as soon as it was born and was voted in as the George Washington of this newly named territory. He happened to possess various admirable characteristics like honesty, loyalty, and respect—all key contributions to his distinctive integrity. He went on to equip the new town with a park, school, library, and hospital.

This youthful man was named Harris Rot and served the maximum amount of terms and united the residents of the town. His descendants are currently living calm lives in these States and continue to put others first. Harris helped others in the town move forward in many areas during his time, but some living there today—including one of his own relatives—are challenged with what has come. I think it will become clear what I mean soon enough as you witness the actions of the characters in what follows.

Even if one adapts to modern day lifestyle at a tortoise’s pace, that’s okay, considering the most recent advances aren’t always the most comfortable. It’s fine to rebel to a certain extent if you aren’t ready to agree with the latest changes. Chances are, eventually you will decide to be part of the advanced community that you live in. A scenario that demonstrates this—among other important lessons—is a situation wherein a particular individual had to face his limitations and do all that he felt necessary to do to maintain what he’d worked for and to achieve a desired result. He developed rapidly and was able to change his view on many different aspects of modern life. And so, I introduce Mr. Leo Rot.

Chapter One

The Man and His Garden

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On a hot Sunday afternoon, in the town of Violet Bloom, the aged and wise Mr. Rot sat on his porch. He sat upon a chair that at one time belonged to his grandfather and, for the moment, he was contemplating life. He may have been thinking about his lack of a romantic relationship, which had been the case all of his life. Or it could have been a thought regarding worldly occurrences. Or maybe it was just what to have for lunch. Sometimes our elders can be the most odd yet amusing people we associate with. Mr. Rot was a rather tall man (at 6’4" in his youth), skinny (his weight being one hundred-sixty pounds), with dark brown eyes, short white grayish hair, and small glasses that are kept on a face with many wrinkles. The house he lived in was located on Magnolia Street and was next to that of a retired portly man and across from that of a lady with two mischievous children. It was two stories plus the attic so it could possibly be thought of as three. Anyway, the house was built by the previous owner, whom Mr. Rot had not known. Apparently, he had passed away and the current occupant had assumed that the realtor didn’t tell him because the person died in a most tragic way.

The house was wrapped with ivy on the outside parts. The interior displayed a total of nine brilliant looking rooms (two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining room, an office, and three bedrooms). At present, only one bedroom was being occupied, because the other was that of his parents and they were currently not in a condition to stay at home—both had been taken ill with pneumonia and remained in the hospital due to a number of complications. The third bedroom was only a guest room that had not been used for several years. All the rooms were decorated with some sort of plant-related design that was put there by the unknown previous owner who apparently liked gardening. For example, in Mr. Rot’s room, there was a wardrobe with carvings of juniper trees. The other two bedrooms contained flowered wallpaper: pansies in his parents’ and hibiscuses in the spare.

Like the other owner, Mr. Rot was a gardener and not the amateur kind. No, you could definitely tell that he was an experienced gardener. In fact, some called him a Master Gardener. His garden took up a very big area—it stretched outward through his gnomes to the roof of his house and along his fence too. But I am not here to talk about the quantity of square feet of his garden; on the contrary, I wish to describe its quality. His garden consisted of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and herbs as well. Even in the worst of scenarios, only one of his plants died and, because of this, several of his plants were decades old. Butterflies and bees were the only insects that Mr. Rot ever saw on any of his plants, except for the occasional ladybug. The contents of his garden were so tasty that Mr. Rot had, in the past, established his own Tea and Jam Company. He stopped this, though, because he had to go to the supermarket and, when he did, he suspected that the owner raised the prices only for him, due to his position as a competitor. So, in order to continue to buy at a low price the other items that were necessary for his survival, he closed his tea and jam business instead of boycotting the other.

In his yard, he had a birdbath that, as you can imagine, was a splendid sight. His birdbath was of fine cement and stood four feet high. The birdbath had imprinted on it Sycamore leaves, circling an inch from the top. The local finches and blue jays adored the bath and frequently put it to use. To ensure that he was giving the birds healthy water, he would clean it weekly. On this one particular day, Mr. Rot noticed how late it was getting and decided to go to bed. The Master Gardener opened his back door made of redwood with a brass knob and peered into his cottage. There, within it, were the vegetables and fruits he had recently picked from his garden, including carrots, peas, grapes, strawberries, squash, and even more of his various garden-grown delights. A great amount of the produce Mr. Rot had for sale were squash—because they were his favorite, he therefore grew more of them relative to his other crops.

He went into his living room and sat in his cotton stuffed armchair beside the glass coffee table that had been in his family for three generations. Mr. Rot looked at a picture of his parents and was saddened since this image of his parents reminded him that they were not able to keep him company. His mom and his dad were both bravely fighting their viruses. Mr. Rot then marched himself upstairs and went to bed. In the morning, he looked at his clock of polished silver and let out a gasp of terror: he had forgotten to water his squash! The old man dashed downstairs and flung open the back door. When he got outside, he picked up his watering can and turned on his hose (which lay ten feet to the right of his back door). As the Master Gardener was filling his can, he looked at a baby squash and cried out in happiness, the little ones are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.

Mr. Rot now started to water but he doesn’t just water, he sings as well. "Oh my little squash, what will you bring to me. I’ve fought in two wars yet I don’t know how tasty you’ll be. Whatever I happen to get, I know I will like it—not even a chance I’ll throw a fit. There is enough of this plant to feed all the occupants of Magnolia Street, enough for them including me. I think this one’s almost ready to pick. I cannot wait to try a bit. I don’t have to describe your appearance but I must. You’re properly sized and not a single scratch and because of this I am fond. Your stem is brown like a solid coating of rust. You’re shaped like a pear and on the surface you are blond. You are neighbor to many other crops. Strawberries are to your north and, in relation to carrots, you lay to their west. You are better than other squash that can be found in stores or shops. Of course, you are my favorite plant in my garden. Why, you are obviously the best," sang Mr. Rot.

Speaking of the old man’s passion for gardening, I think a little background is in order. As a young man, Mr. Rot was unsure of what he wanted to do with his life. He served in the Marine Corps for a few good years but, when he was able to leave, he returned to Violet Bloom and later it was suggested to him that he learn to garden as a hobby. He left the military life because he realized that, after his years of service, he was meant to go on to live a nice, peaceful existence. Now back at home, he could simply raise plants and have a higher chance of not watching things of any sort get injured or killed. By July of 1995, he had become a dedicated gardener who was so successful he had excess crops to sell.

When Mr. Rot had finished his watering and singing, he went inside to make breakfast. He made his meal and decided to eat outside so on his porch he sat. His fine breakfast consisted of two eggs, one slice of toast (with homemade strawberry jam), and a piece of sausage as big as a marker. Oh Mom and Dad, I wish you could be here with me, said the heartbroken Mr. Rot. The Master Gardener was full from a good meal and decided to watch TV in his living room, so he washed his glass plate and turned on the television. Are you a gardener? Because if you are, then we’ve got a great offer for you, said a commercial lady. Why, yes, I am!, said Mr. Rot, unaware that the commercial lady couldn’t hear him. Though very talented, Mr. Rot had little knowledge of most technology. In fact, he still had his old typewriter and used it instead of a computer since he had no idea whatsoever on how a machine like that works.

An hour later, Mr. Rot was on his bedroom phone (fortunately, he knew how to work a simple dial phone). Hello, Bob? I saw your great deal on television—the one that says buy three tulips and get a free sunflower, said the eager Mr. Rot. Okay, I will deliver them to you, said Bob. A half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. Mr. Rot opened his oak front door and there stood Bob and the flowers. That will be five ninety-nine plus a three dollar delivery fee, said Bob. Wait a minute, don’t I get a senior discount?, asked Mr. Rot. You don’t look like you’re graduating high school, replied the witless Bob. After Bob left, Mr. Rot took his flowers outside and started planting them. Three holes were dug with Mr. Rot’s favorite shovel (a small one with a steel blade) and the flowers were put in them. As Mr. Rot filled the holes with the newly dug up dirt, he mused to himself, I wonder how Bob graduated high school himself. At least they are beautiful flowers, he thought. Once he had finished planting the flowers, Mr. Rot went inside and back up the stairs to gaze at his clock. It turned out to be two o’clock so Mr. Rot ate lunch.

Mr. Rot finished lunch and decided to start baking cookies. He got out the proper ingredients and prepared the dough then dropped the cookies on the tray. He had to wait to take the cookies out of the oven, so he turned on his television and watched his favorite show, I Get Daisy All The Time. The Master Gardener enjoyed this show because it taught him why it is important to get daisies for your garden. Even if the situations that the protagonist found himself in were a little farfetched, the subject matter did have a strangely satisfying effect on Mr. Rot. "This week