"The Story of a Hedge" by Carla K. Anderson

      She knew something was wrong when the hedge objected to being pruned, and edged delicately away from the clipping shears. Rather than waste time talking the bushes into behaving, Dara decided to not push the issue and went inside for a cup of tea instead, muttering a few curses directed at the recalcitrant shrubbery.


      “Hello! Is anybody home?” a voice called from outside. Dara sighed and glared at the teapot, which hadn’t boiled yet, before looking out the door. Old Jane Goodman stood at the end of the walk, trying to peer politely in the lace-curtained window.

      “Good morning, Mrs. Goodman,” Dara managed, smothering annoyance at finding the town’s biggest busybody at her doorstep. She met Jane halfway down the path. “How are you?” she asked, in a tone that barely managed to hide the fact that she didn’t want to know, thank-you-very-much. The older woman smiled, unaware of Dara’s tone.

      “Oh, fine, fine, thank you. I can’t complain.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “Your hedge is looking a little unkempt,” Jane added, finally uneasy.

      Dara forced a smile, gritting her teeth against a sharp retort, something like I think I can handle my own hedge, thank you. But, no. That wouldn’t do at all.

      “Would you care for some tea, Mrs. Goodman?” Dara asked insincerely. Jane Goodman beamed, oblivious to Dara’s manner.


      “I really don’t want to be a bother, dear-- but how kind of you. Perhaps just one cup?” She glanced hopefully at Dara.

      “Of course, Mrs. Goodman.” Dara paused, then added in a resigned tone, “Do come in.” Chattering cheerfully, Jane followed Dara inside.

      “Now I don’t take any nonsense from my shrubbery; just give it a good slap, that sets it straight—”

      “I’ll be sure to try it,” Dara interrupted politely, showing the other woman to a chair. She set out some cookies and replaced her peppermint tea with a pouch of chamomile to sooth her nerves, already on edge in Mrs. Goodman’s company.

      At least one hour later, after plenty of advice on every subject, Dara had heard the news of all the latest doings about the town and the gossip went on her way. In the blessed quiet of her absence, Dara’s cat sauntered in. “Finally, that horrible woman is gone.” she commented. “Anyway, I found a nest of rabbits at the base of the hedge.”


      “You didn’t eat them, did you?” Dara asked. Jasmine paused in her graceful walk across the floor and licked her fur in an offended sort of way.

      “Of course not. I just thought you might want to know that the hedge was trying to protect them from the sun.”

      “I see. Thank you, Jasmine.” Dara thought for a moment and smiled. Of course, the hedge had guarded the rabbits from her cat, as well. She began to say as much, but Jasmine had already disappeared into the living room, so Dara let the subject rest and went outside to apologize to the shrubs.

      Once she had finally managed to trim the bushes, Dara went inside once more and sat down with a second cup of tea. Finally, she had some peace and quiet. The woman sighed happily and leaned back comfortably in her chair. Suddenly there was a crash from the back yard. “Oh, no,” Dara muttered. “I bet the pumpkin vine is at it again…”