Counting by 7s(60)

I told the bank that we had a plan, and I presented that in the drawings that were submitted.

But that was hypothetical.

And this is reality.

I’m going to need to take life from what I can find in the neighborhood around me in Bakersfield to landscape this place.



I start small.

A basket.

Scissors.

Wet paper towels (to keep my clippings moist).

I have a few small cuttings taking root in water glasses by the window.

I need to think bigger.



Dell drives me to the Southside plant nursery on Saturday and we buy rooting hormone and three large bags of potting soil.

While we’re there, I see Henry E. Pollack. He runs the place.

I have known this guy since I was very young.

He and my dad used to talk about football and he gave us discounts for years.

I’ve looked at fungus and insect infestation for him in the past.

And I’ve given advice on grafting limbs on fruit trees.

I’m in the back checking out their new pittosporum tenuifolium, and I catch sight of Dell talking to Henry in the corner.

It looks sort of serious, which makes me nervous.



In the car, I ask Dell what they were whispering about and he says: “Henry wanted to know how you were doing.”

People are uncomfortable asking a kid that question. So they ask adults.

But those adults a lot of times have no clue about the answer.

I look out the window at all the plants growing in people’s gardens, and get lost in that.

But later, at the stoplight, I say:

“I’m trying not to put down permanent roots. That’s probably what you should tell people like Henry.”



Quang-ha is on the couch watching a TV show about a guy who drives around the country in a convertible eating bacon cheeseburgers.

Mai is looking at a catalog for swimsuit enthusiasts.

Dell is clipping his beard into a paper bag (to keep the bits from flying around the room).

Cheddar is asleep.

Pattie is at the salon.

She has been staying late more often now. I worry about that, but she doesn’t like anyone to question her schedule.

I come into the living room and explain my plan, which is for us to drive around town and take small cuttings from interesting plants.

Quang-ha doesn’t look at me but manages to say:

“Would that be stealing?”

I’m encouraged. At least I have his attention.

“This is an interesting question. If we were on someone’s private property, we would be trespassing. And that’s breaking the law.”

Quang-ha then mumbles something that I can’t understand.

So I continue:

“Plants are people’s property. But what if the plant extends into the area of the sidewalk? What if we are on public property, such as a park or a library or a state building?”

Quang-ha keeps his eyes on the television and says:

“What if you move to the left? You’re blocking part of the TV.”

I take a step to the side.

Silence.

Only the television and the sounds of Dell struggling to clip his shockingly wiry facial hair.

And then Quang-ha says:

“Just take stuff out of people’s green trash cans. The work will already be done for you.”

I look at him now with admiration.

Quang-ha’s mother is the hardest worker that I’ve ever seen. And she has passed on to her son a unique quality. He understands labor in a different way.

If he’s not interested in something, he will do anything to get out of doing it.

I mean it when I say to him:

“Quang-ha, you may very well have a future career in management.”

As if to drive home his point he says:

“If there are any ice-cream bars in the freezer, I’ll take one.”

There have never been ice-cream bars in the freezer, but I now will buy a box at the first opportunity.





Chapter 53





For the next 17 days, Mai, Dell, and I become experts in the green garden trash cans.

In our town, trash is separated, with blue cans for recycling and green for anything from the yard. Black is for everything else.

My first observation: The green receptacles are not always filled with just cut grass and dead flowers.

I’ve found spaghetti in there. And all kinds of other objectionable things.

Some of them beyond creepy.

But for the most part, the people of Bakersfield, California, are following the rules of rubbish, meaning that they are tossing their garden waste in the right direction.

And this stuff is mostly alive.

Pattie doesn’t want any more tubs or containers in the apartment. She put her foot down on that. And Dell only has his room down the hall, where Sadhu has strict rules.

Again, Quang-ha is the one who has the answer.

“Take everything up to the roof. No one goes up there.”

He hasn’t been back since we put the broken glass on the skylight, but he obviously remembers what a wide-open space it is.

So now there are pots and containers all over the flat space.

With the rooting hormone and so much full sun and water, I’ve got a mini-nursery going.

And then we lose almost all of the plants.