Sugarcane and Indigo

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want the Answers to

"I took you in after your mama ran off and that no good father of yours died. You know I just want what's best for you, don't you?"

I nodded. She always reminded me about how she didn't have to take in her illegitimate grandchild, how the elders wanted to leave me outside the town's borders.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to raise a half-breed granddaughter? When your mama came home saying she fell in love with an outsider it nearly broke my heart. And after he went off and died and your mama left, I thought my magic was going to end with me. That'd you'd be of no use to anyone. But I still kept you, didn't I?" She paused in applying the paste to meet my eyes. "Didn't I?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well don't kill me by making the same mistakes your mother did. Leave that boy alone."

I couldn't lie to her. She'd know and would be even angrier than she had been.

So, I just answered, "I won't make my mother's mistakes, Grammie. I promise."

    She seemed satisfied with the answer and pulled away. "I don't want to hear about that boy anymore, you hear me?"

    I nodded once more. She humphed and went back to the table to eat. I glanced at the clock and saw that I only had a few minutes to meet Indigo if I wanted to be on time.

    "I'm going to go into town, Grammie. We're running out of black eyed susans in the garden and the sunflowers are starting to complain."

    It wasn't a lie. We really were running out of black eyed susans and the sunflowers really had started to complain. But beyond being true, it was believable. After Violet disappeared, I took to keeping a magnificent garden. In a way the flowers and herbs I grew were my only friends. My grandmother wouldn't question me going into town to buy more flowers.

    Grammie humphed once again. "I swear out of all the useless gifts for the God to give you, you had to be able to speak with flowers. What a waste of potential. What a waste of our bloodline."

    I ducked my head and nodded. Grammie never forgot to remind me that as her granddaughter I should somehow be better. That I should be stronger. That if my father wasn't an outsider, I would've been. Grammie was psychic. She could look at your tea leaves and tell you the day you'd die. She could taste your aura as soon as you came in the door and some say she could even read your mind. I was a disappointment to the Fletch family name as someone who could only taste the strongest of emotions. And while I loved being able to hear and communicate with plants it wasn't a particularly useful skill to have. And Grammie was even more powerful after mastering voodoo. It was another disappointment to her when I refused to even learn.

    "Well, you best be getting off," she told me then glanced out the window towards the clear sky, "A storm's coming."

    I nodded and after dumping my cereal walked out the front door. Indigo was waiting at the bottom of the steps looking like he was about to come knock.

    I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the front yard. "Don't ever come to the house," I hissed at him, "Never, ever."

    He blinked at me surprised by my tone. "Why?"

    "My Grammie doesn't like outsiders and she doesn't want me spending time with you."

    "Outsiders?" he asked, his face darkening with anger.

    I kept pulling him across the street till we stood in front of his car. "People not from this town," I explained.

    "Well, that's a little xenophobic, don't you think," he snorted, pulling himself free from me.