This Garden Is For You

This Garden Is For You

The sweaty lines and crevices on my hands were said to tell my story through something called palm reading. Nikki was looking at the palms of her hands, thinking. She already knew her story and did not need a psychic.

“Ready for your Relem?”

Nikki was in the mental hospital. She was incapacitated from contemplating divorce and wanting rights. The Relem was a cup of pills to give her the strength of mind to do it alone. They just wanted to help. That is what the mental hospital is there for. Help…

“I heard you have a garden,” responded the nurse as Nikki took the water and cutely and awkwardly downed the little cupful of pills. Nikki had the mentally ill innocence of a twelve-year-old good girl.

Nikki responded, unsure, “Well, this garden is not the one the man came to me about in my dream, but yes, there is a garden slightly available at my home I am leaving. My husband killed and ate a rabbit, and my fate is to eat rabbit and squirrel and frog and bird like duck and quail off my acre with walnuts and berries from the trees in my garden. It weakens my stomach. I am much too sick for that and need healthy, real food. A man has come to me in my dreams, and I plan to do it on my own. He is a billionaire and has a beautiful dream garden with lily pads, leapfrogs, and an array of exotic plants and flowers, with a gazebo and pond, with a creek leading to a river. I have the strength to leave my sick husband, though you all are saying I am too mentally ill to make the decision alone without the help of a psychiatrist and his Relem or meds.”

Nikki was quieting down from the pills. She was gaining inner strength and losing manic energy.

The nurse continued, “Yes, take these Relem, and it will be okay. They are the vitamins you need to make you strong. I know it is not likely you will be as healthy living off the land, and we are sure you are unable to do it. We are on your side. You are in a bit of a rut, in danger. You do know you have a bit of schizophrenia? I am worried about this man you are dreaming of. What is he saying to you? You know your husband is quite upset you are leaving him? He has to claim bankruptcy and everything, and he is bothered that you claim to be more responsible with finances, you being financially independent without him. He does not like that you are becoming empowered and independent, faring better without him, getting out of debt with no bankruptcy or anything, but he is taking the sacrifice. I hope you are not in an affair.”

Nikki was taken aback. An affair? Whatever were they speaking of? She confided in the nurse, but not much. She did not trust that this hospital was what would make her well enough to achieve her dreams of a dream billionaire in a dream garden that was out there in a parallel reality for her to manifest into reality.

“I’d like to think I am just in the spirit, the man in my dreams, a reiki spirit who is introducing me to a parallel reality. A spirit guide is what he is. I just finished my reiki classes, venturing into the spirit on my own.”

The nurse was worried about this new onset of schizophrenia. “Well, tell me about him,” the nurse prodded.

“I really do not have much to say,” Nikki went on to say. “My mind feels like it is in a vacuum. Why must you need to know about something so private?”

Many years later…

Chapter 1: The News

Nikki was at her usual spot, ordering coffee and doing her writing. She had divorced over ten years ago and was living on her own in a prestigious town on low-income help, on disability, making it as an unpaid model and writer on disability, getting extra low-income help and aid.

“Did you hear the news?” asked a regular with his latte in a suit. “I read the paper today, and your ex-husband made a fortune from the mustard seed you planted in the garden when you meditated there when you were married. A mustard tree was all he needed. Then everything flourished after that. The berries. The walnuts. The squirrels. The rabbits. He sells roses from rose bushes. It was a good idea, and he found a treasure chest of old rare coins when digging a pit for a fire to roast tomatoes and other vegetation he sells from his garden and, of course, s’mores. The chest was worth millions. Want him back yet?”

She grabbed his coffee, took a sip, and said, “Not even tempting. A date with you would have me more satisfied.”

“Very funny,” the billionaire exclaimed. “Here, finish my coffee. I will get me an espresso.”

“By the way…” Nikki asked.

“Thanks. Do you have a garden?”

“I have many,” the Christian help answered with his billions. “Take my pond instead, though.”

Chapter 2 Coming Soon: Take This Pond Instead