Through The Garden Wall

by Jeff Baker

We were parked in the parking lot of the old Quickie-Mart drinking the sodas we’d gotten from the store and laughing about our High School days where we would have ridden down here on our bikes and maybe sat under the big tree that used to be at one edge of the lot.

“Hey, look over there,” I said pointing at the tall wooden fence that separated the lot from the first of the houses that ran down the street. “Somebody kicked a hole in the bottom of the fence.”

“Looks like it could’ve rotted away,” Steve said. “That fence was here when we were in school and probably when those houses were built.”

“Yeah,” I said remembering the days of Saturday Morning cartoons and homework.

“Some things haven’t changed,” Steve said. “Somebody tossed their trash on the grass.”

He hopped out of the convertible and walked over to pick up the bottle and tossed it expertly into the nearby trash can.

“Hey, Alec,” he said. “Come here and look at this.”

I walked over, careful not to trip on the lumpy asphalt.

“What?” I asked.

“Look at that from here,” Steve said pointing at the hole in the fence.

I saw the grey wood, the hole and through that the green grass with a hint of flowers.

“Pretty, huh?” Steve said. “Like a painting.”

I grinned and nodded. Sometimes it was nice having friends who appreciated art and nature.

“I remember when I was really little my babysitter told me there were doors in garden walls and that what she called ‘the Fairy Folk’ would use them to come into our world.” Steve said.

“Yeah?” I said.

“But in all the years since I never once saw a garden wall.” Steve said. “Hey, let’s head back.

We climbed back in the car and Steve was just about to start it up when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

“Hey,” I said. We both looked.

There was a blur as if two or three figures moving impossibly fast rushed across the grass and through the hole in the fence.

Steve and I looked at each other.

“Cats,” he said.

“Yeah, cats.” I replied.

We drove back home not saying a word, imagining vast gardens beyond the fence that stretched on forever.

—end—