Martin was six.
Was he dreaming?
His mum’s garden. Kent. All was as prim and proper as the primroses. Even Martin. It was years before he fell in with what his Daa called “that bad lot.” Years before he was so desperate to fit in and impress the girls that he’d do anything “that bad lot” told him to. Including all those hallucinogenic drugs…
His mum’s garden. His Daa started watering with the garden hose. For some reason the water coming out of that hose terrified Martin. But his mum picked him up and swung him around in the sunlight, laughing. Then she stopped, hugged him tight, and nuzzled his neck. Martin could smell the scent of her soap, which she would also use when she scrubbed him clean. It reminded him of fluffy clean towels, bed linens, and cozy bedtime stories. Then they were on the ground, with his folks stealing a kiss over his head before they all three got busy weeding and patting the ground down around the flowers “just so.” The earth was warm and wonderfully alive with the scents of the plants growing in it. Martin was happy, surrounded by his parents, watching their six hands working in that warm, rich dirt together. Making everything in their world all neat and tidy.
This was so much better than all those hallucinogenic drugs…
But with that he knew he wasn’t really in his mum’s garden, hadn’t been there for…decades.
Where was he?
He was on the ground, and there was dirt on his hands. But this dirt didn’t smell good. There were two bigger people surrounding him, but they were both men. For a moment he caught a flash of his dirt and blood-covered hands buried in a foul littering of dirt and garbage scattered over a hard, concrete floor. But then he spotted a pink and pudgy-cute T-rex winking furiously at him. There. That was much better!
