Poisoned Petals

“All right.”

“How’d you even know these Schwein-whatever sunflowers were here, if you’re not from Stanly County?”

Peggy smiled. “Because the Historic Land Trust goes through counties around the state and documents all the flowers, animals, and geological landmarks that should be preserved to keep an area’s historical heritage intact. I’m sure you’ve been to Town Creek Indian Mound.”

“Yeah.” He deposited another group of tubers into the bag with a grunt. “That place is awesome! My kids love it!”

“I agree. But it wouldn’t be here if people hadn’t fought to preserve it. These flowers were here ten thousand years ago when those tribes settled here and in the Uwharrie Mountains around us. I think the least we can do is take a few hours to save them for future generations.”

He shrugged. “I guess. I only know doing this delayed starting the road project by three weeks. That means time and money were lost. It hardly seems fair to the taxpayers who pay my salary.”

“Once these flowers are gone, they’re gone forever. Surely a part of our past must be worth a few weeks, even to taxpayers.”

“Maybe.” He shoveled another load into a new bag she held open. “You know a lot about history, huh?”

“Not all history. I just know the history of these plants.”

“Peggy!” Pete called again from his perch five feet above them on the side of the ditch. “We got the smaller clumps. Are you almost done down there?”

“Almost!”

“Good! I’m going over here to look at some dock that’s growing. I think it might be prairie dock. Unless you need help?”

“No, we’re fine.”

A late-model, red Buick stopped, and a short black man in an ill-fitting tan suit got out. He watched them for a few minutes, then cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, “This is church property!” He pointed to the church sign near where they were digging. “You can’t dig there!”

“I got a permit that says I can,” Jenks replied. “And this isn’t church property. It belongs to the state. This is NCDOT right-of-way.”

“Are you sure about that?” the other man demanded.

“Sure as it won’t be here once they finish widening this road into Albemarle.”

“I should probably see your permit.”

“Jesus!” The NCDOT supervisor searched his pockets to find the permit. “Anything else?”

Peggy realized she knew the man who was waiting to see the permit. “Luther? Is that you?” She’d known him for over thirty years, but they were never close. She was close to his brother, Darmus. But Luther was a prickly man. The wrong word could set him off.

He squinted down at her. “Peggy Lee? What are you doing down there?”

The supervisor groaned. “So you two know each other? That sounds about right!”

“I’ll be up in a minute, and we can talk.” She smiled at the man beside her. “I don’t think you’ll need that permit now. We’ll be fine.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

They finished bagging the last of the sunflowers. Peggy dragged one of the bags with her as she started to climb out of the ditch. It was heavy and extra full, because she was taking a few plants back with her to Charlotte for the Community Garden, as well as a few for her yard.

But Peggy hadn’t considered how steep the embankment was to climb. Coming down had only involved slipping and sliding down the tall grass. She was going to have to crawl out of the ditch on all fours, as embarrassing as that sounded, with Jenks coming right up behind her.

The bag of tubers was like a dead weight, pulling her back down each time she tried to crawl up. She tried to get her feet into secure places and push herself up. Each time the clumps of grass she tried to use to pull herself up with ripped out of the crumbling earth.

“Need some help?” Jenks came right up under her pitiful attempt to get out.

“It’s a little harder going up.” She opened her mouth to say more and laughed a little nervously. Only a squeak came out as Jenks put his hand on her backside and propelled her to the top of the embankment. She had to drop her burlap bag so she could grab the tufts of grass and pull herself the rest of the way out. A car sped by only a few feet from her face.

“I’ll take these to the truck.” Jenks came up after her with all the bags of tubers slung over one shoulder. “Are we done here?”

“If Pete got the others, that’s it.” Peggy took a step back from the road as another car zoomed by. “Thanks for your help.” She handed him her vest, conscious of Luther waiting to talk to her.

“Yeah. Right.” The supervisor tucked her vest under his arm. “Are you showing me where to take these plants?”

“No. Pete’s going with you.” She waved to the other botanist who was waiting by the truck.

“Great.” Jenks sighed and picked up his bags. “Thanks for coming out. Now we can get going on the road project.”

“My pleasure. Thanks for all your tolerance.”