Linus had no idea. “Ye-es?”
Talia nodded furiously. “Exactly! Just think! I can buy this, and we can go to the graveyard like Lucy wanted! I can dig up so many things with this!”
“Don’t say that so loudly!” Linus hissed at her, but she ignored him, proceeding to mime digging as if getting used to the grip and heft of the spade.
Even Lucy seemed interested. “It’s a little small,” he said doubtfully. “How are you going to dig up an entire grave with that little thing?”
“It’s not about the size,” Talia scoffed. “But what you do with it. Isn’t that right, Mr. Baker?”
Linus coughed. “I—that’s quite right, I suppose.”
“And I’m a gnome, Lucy. You know how well I can dig.”
Lucy nodded, looking relieved. “Good. Because we might have to dig up at least three or four bodies—”
“We’re not digging up any bodies,” Linus snapped. “So get that idea out of your heads right now.”
“We’re not?” Talia asked, looking down at the spade. “But then what’s the point?”
“The point? The point of what?”
“Going to the graveyard,” Lucy said, tugging on his hand.
“We’re not going to the graveyard!”
Talia squinted up at him. “But you said we could.”
“Oh no,” Lucy moaned. “Is he going senile? He’s so old, he’s losing his mind! Help! Please, someone help us! This man who is supposed to be watching us is going senile and I worry what he might do!”
A squat woman appeared down one of the aisles looking worried, a smudge of dirt on her forehead, gardening gloves on her hands. She held a pair of pruning shears. “My goodness, what’s going on? Are you all … right…?”
She stopped when she saw Talia with the spade. She looked slowly over to Lucy, who grinned at her, showing many teeth.
She took a step back. “You’re from the island.”
“Yes,” Talia said in a no-nonsense voice. “And I’d like to talk to you about the B.L. Macks. When did they come in? Are they as good as their rating suggests? They seem to be lighter than I expected.”
“We’re going to the graveyard,” Lucy added in an ominous monotone. “Do a lot of people die here? I hope so.”
The woman’s eyes widened.
“We’re not,” Linus said hastily. “Talia here has the most beautiful garden that is well cared for. Why, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen something so immaculate.”
It didn’t appear to do much to calm the woman, though Talia preened. “Thank you, Mr. Baker!” She looked back at the woman. “You can’t tell by the way he dresses, but sometimes, Mr. Baker has good taste.”
The woman nodded, head jerking up and down. “That’s … nice.” She cleared her throat. “A garden you say? On the island? I thought it was…” She blanched.
Talia cocked her head. “You thought it was what?”
“It … uh. Doesn’t matter.” She glanced quickly at Linus before very obviously forcing a smile on her face. “Tell me about your garden, and I’ll see if I can figure what would be right for you.”
“Oh no,” Lucy groaned. “Now she’ll never stop talking.”
Talia ignored him as she launched into a very thorough explanation of her garden. In fact, it was so thorough, Linus thought she was going over it inch by inch. And while he secretly agreed with Lucy, he remained focused on the shopkeeper, watching for any sign that she was just humoring Talia in order to get them to leave.
Though that certainly seemed to be the case at the beginning, the woman began to relax and interrupted Talia, asking questions about pH levels in the soil, and what kinds of flowers and plants she grew. The woman seemed impressed with Talia’s knowledge and what she had created.
Eventually, she said, “While the B.L. Macks are considered top end, I’ve found they tend to wear down quicker. Someone like you”—she coughed—“who knows what they’re doing, might do better with the Foxfaires. They’re sturdier and don’t cost quite as much. It’s what I use here in the shop and at home.”
Talia put the spade back on the shelf almost reverently. “Foxfaires? Garden Tools Monthly said they—”
“Garden Tools Monthly?” the woman scoffed. “Oh, my dear child, Garden Tools Monthly is now the Garden Tools Weekly of the garden tool world. It’s all about the Garden Tools Bi-Monthly. It’s what all serious gardeners read.”
Talia gasped. “It is?” She glared up at Linus. “Why didn’t I know this? What else has been kept from me?”
Linus shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
The woman squinted at him. “Are you all right, sir? Are you senile?”
Linus sighed as Lucy cackled.
* * *
The total, after being rung up, was astounding. Linus had never spent so much on gardening tools in his life.
Talia smiled up at the woman. “Can you excuse me for a moment?”
The woman nodded.
Talia turned away from her, smile disappearing. She looked frantic. She grabbed Linus’s hand and tugged on it, pulling him down. “I don’t have enough,” she whispered. “And we can’t push her down and steal it, right? Because that’s wrong.”
“We absolutely cannot push her down and steal it,” Linus said.
Lucy rolled his eyes. “I knew you were going to say that.” He frowned and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a handful of crumpled bills. He held it out to Talia. “Is that enough, you think?”
Talia shook her head. “No, Lucy. You can’t. Those are for your records.”
Lucy shrugged. “I know. But not all of them are broken. And the ones that did break were my fault anyway. You can have it.”
“Put your money away,” Linus said quietly. “Both of you.”
“But, my tools—”
He stepped forward to the counter, dropping their hands as he pulled out his own wallet. He smiled weakly at the woman as he handed her his Diners Club Card, something he only used in emergencies. She placed it on top of the imprinter and snapped the handle over for the receipt.
He heard whispering behind him and glanced back, wanting to make sure that they weren’t actually planning on robbing the garden store. Instead, he found Talia smiling, her eyes wet as Lucy wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The woman cleared her throat, and Linus turned back around. She handed him his card and started to bag up the tools. Linus felt Talia step beside him, reaching up to the counter, waving her hands as she couldn’t quite see over it. The woman handed her the bags.
She hesitated. Then, “This garden of yours. It sounds lovely.”
“It is,” Talia replied without a trace of ego.
“Would it—I like to take pictures of the gardens here in Marsyas.” She pointed toward a cork board on the wall with photographs of different gardens. “From the people who shop here. Every garden is different, I think. They reflect the personalities of those who care for them.”
“There are no dead bodies in our garden,” Lucy said helpfully. “But other than that, it’s pretty much exactly like Talia.”