The Sisters of Nowhere

f o u r : h o m e

Wyatt wasn't sure if it was considered waking up early if he'd never fallen asleep in the first place. Regardless, it was six-thirty in the morning when he rolled off of his pallet mattress and sat with his legs hanging over the edge

Everything echoed in the greenhouse. From lizards scurrying through the tomato leaves to the dragonflies bumping into the glass outside, it all seemed to make some sort of noise that was louder than usual.

As Wyatt changed out of his dusty clothes, he had to stand on his mattress so that he'd be hidden by the utility closet. He smoothed down his sweater vest and made sure the collar from the shirt beneath was tucked just right before stepping into the greenhouse.

It was different, more inviting, in the daylight. It was the most beautiful tomato garden that Wyatt had ever seen.

Bright ripe tomatoes hung from every vine, neat and tidy as if they each had an assigned spot that they were allowed to grow.

Wyatt wandered from row to row, having gotten used to the tangy scent of the air.

Blue morning light filtered through the glass, already warming up the greenhouse.

Once he got to the end of the last row, there was a tangle of weeds in the corner, which was strikingly out of place in the otherwise pristine greenhouse.

Wyatt drew closer and squatted down, sorting through the mass of vines and half-decomposed leaves to uncover a bed of thorny bushes.

Roses.

He used his fingernail to scratch off the surface of one of the rose stalks and saw that it was still green.

He could work with that.

In a time that seemed decades ago instead of just a few years past, Wyatt's mother had spent two thousand dollars to start up a rose garden. She had plans to cultivate new and rare breeds of roses and enter them into the local flower competitions, where she'd donate the proceeds to the various charities she supported. Within two weeks, however, the garden had gone right to seed without a second glance it's way. Wyatt, who'd take frequent walks through the hedges, topiaries, and flowers, eventually got sick of the eyesore that was the neglected rose bush. So he went to Brambleby's library, studied books on roses, and fixed it up himself. It was one of the few hobbies he adopted outside of tennis and his usual school work, and the only one he truly found peace in doing.

He nodded to himself, thinking, I'll need supplies first.

A vehicle rattled outside and Wyatt looked up to see someone pulling into the driveway.

A man hopped out of a beat-up truck. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a strong but aging build, and a red flannel shirt.

Hal was also in the front yard, scattering chicken feed across the grass.

Curious, Wyatt moved towards the door of the greenhouse to watch them.

"Morning, Hal," the stranger greeted.

Hal looked up and Wyatt couldn't tell if he was happy to see the newcomer or not with the way his young-but-old face sagged. "What brings you here, Oscar?"

"I heard you've got a new charge under your wing," the man replied good-naturedly.

They were, of course, talking about Wyatt. Wyatt did not know if he appreciated this.

He opened the door of the greenhouse and both men looked his way.

Hal was oddly expressionless, but the other man lifted a hand. "Good morning!"