Mister Green Thumb

"I don't believe you," Laura said. "I've never seen you plant a thing, even those mung bean plants they had us take care of in biology class."

Jerry paced up and down the path at the Botanical Garden. It was late in the afternoon near closing time and there were few visitors left.

"What are we even doing here? It's freezing."

"I know, I know. Sorry. But I had to show you this."

She was developing a small tick above her left eye that he had come to notice. And with good reason. It was an early warning sign.

"Then show me already so I can go home."

"Ok. Watch."

Jerry rubbed his fingers nervously, reached down and touched a rose bush. Nothing happened.

"I'm waiting."

"Just hold on," he said, hoped something would happen. It worked on the head of lettuce last night. It had developed roots that intertwines all over his refrigerator. It had taken him three hours to clean up the mess.

Then the rose bush shivered slightly, which could have been attributed to a gust of wind by most people, but Jerry knew better. Then it shivered again more violently and Laura gripped his arm.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know," he said. Because he didn't.

Unopened buds slowly flowered and new buds appeared where there were previously none.

"How did you do that?" she whispered. "Is this a trick?"

"No. And I don't know."

The next day, visitors to the Botanical Garden found a fifteen foot high rose clinging to the side of an elm tree. Its flowers were the size of an open palm and its leaves as large as palm fronds.