The Mystery of the Rainbow Flowers

Chapter One

"Yard work stinks! I hate Saturdays. I hate being outside. I bet I have 50 texts by now. All my friends are at the mall without me."

You think your job stinks? I have to pick up the dog poop this week. That stinks, bad. Super bad. And there’re little things crawling in it. Ick.

Lucy and Matthew were standing in the backyard of their parents’ house. It was a sunny spring day with puffy white clouds in the sky. Birds chirped as they flew overhead and butterflies fluttered from flower to flower in the garden, but the children noticed none of those things. They could only think of the fun their friends must be having while they were stuck doing chores.

Lucy, the oldest of the pair at 12, wanted to be at the mall sipping a soda, trying on clothes, and discussing which of her girlfriends got asked to the spring dance; the theme was Fairy Tale and she was hoping Connor would ask her to go so she could wear the sparkly blue dress she had seen in one of the stores. She was only in seventh grade so she couldn’t invite someone to the eighth grade dance, but she was optimistic she would be invited. Matthew was 10 years old and could only think about playing online video games with his friends. He had saved his allowance from chores to buy the games and a headset with a microphone, and now that he had what he wanted he didn’t think he should have to do any more chores until he was ready to buy something else. He threw his work gloves in the grass next to his shovel and the garbage bag containing one single piece of dog poop and walked to the back porch for a sip of water. Lucy threw her gloves to the ground too; she wasn’t going to work if Matthew wasn’t working. Hers landed on a bright red tulip and knocked the petals off into the dirt.

They sat on the back step staring off into the distance with matching scowls on their faces wishing they were somewhere else doing anything else. Their father interrupted their thoughts of what their perfect day might include, which neither of them considered to be yard work.

Done so soon? he asked as he stepped through the door. He looked at his watch. You’ve only been out here for 10 minutes; I find it hard to believe you’ve picked up after Harley, raked up the dead leaves in the garden beds, and mowed the lawn. You’re free to take as much time as you like, but neither of you will be leaving this yard until it’s finished.

"Why do we have to do this?" Matthew glowered.

Lucy sighed. She’d mistakenly asked that question before — a few times — and could almost recite the answer from memory.

Well, let’s see, Mr. Anderson began, sitting next to Matthew on the step and putting his arm around him. You get free room and board, clothes, a good education — everything you need and nearly everything you want as well. But you’re at an age where you want to buy your own stuff, video games and candy bars and little things that aren’t necessary for you to be happy and healthy.

Matthew interrupted. I wouldn’t be happy without video games; those should be included, and I could be playing right now. I’ll do without candy bars.

His father hid his grin with the back of his hand; he remembered what it was like to be a 10-year-old boy, even if it seemed like a million years ago.

Video games are not part of the deal, sorry to inform you. And to be healthy you need sunshine and nature and exercise, and I am required to keep you as healthy as I can. Therefore, some outdoor chores are mandatory for both of you.

Mr. Anderson got up from the step, picked up Matthew’s gloves from the grass, and threw them into his lap. You’re also earning good behavior points for our vacation this summer. Do a good job at your chores and we’ll go somewhere fun with rides and all-day junk food; complain all day and your mother will drag you through art museums for a whole week straight.

That made Matthew smile a little; his mother was an art teacher and he knew it wasn’t an idle threat. He secretly liked art museums but didn’t mention that fact; he would rather go to an amusement park.

Now get back to your jobs, and if you work steadily I bet you’ll be done in under two hours.

He walked back into the house, only to stick his head out again a moment later. Lucy, in case you’re wondering, you’ve got 42 texts; I’m happy to help you get the lawn mower started now if you’d like to read these messages any time soon.

Lucy jumped up and ran to her father, who held the phone above his head, laughing as she tried to grab it from him. She was not very tall yet and couldn’t reach.

No dice, sweetie. Lawn first. He put her phone in his back pocket. Let’s get that mower running now. Remember, always check the gas and oil first.

They walked to the shed together; Lucy picked up her gloves along the way, guiltily kicking some leaves over the mangled tulip petals.

No! That’s not fair! Matthew yelled as he watched Harley, their old black lab, leave another pile for him to pick up. I have enough work to do, he mumbled as the dog lazily walked back to the shade to lay down.

Both children got back to work, Lucy mowing and Matthew shoveling. All the neighbors were out doing their own yard work on the warm spring morning and a mechanical chorus of mowers and trimmers sang from up and down the street. The fragrant, sweet smell of fresh-cut grass eclipsed even the smells that Matthew was complaining about. With a quick look around, he decided the worst part of his job was complete and fetched the rake to clean out the garden beds — more work than shoveling, but not as unpleasant, in his opinion. He looked around and decided he could be back in his room and on his computer in half an hour if he hurried, and hoped Lucy would be done by then. If she was still mowing, his father would find more tasks for him to do until she finished. But if she finished first, he would still have to rake; he wanted to finish exactly when Lucy finished so no more chores would be assigned to either of them and they could get on with the best part of their day. He wished she would hurry up, but he didn’t really want to rake any faster; it was hard to decide what to do.

Matthew knew from experience that he had to be careful how he raked; if he got his mother’s daffodils or iris entwined in the rake and pulled out the leaves, she would see the flattened plants and his day of chores would count for nothing. Plus, he would be subjected to a lecture on the beauty of flowers and nature and that would take at least as much time as the chores themselves. He liked the flowers — the purples with yellow throats, the golden bell shapes, the red bowls of the tulips, and soon the orange lilies and all the different colored roses would be on display. His mother had a huge variety of flowers, and the best part was they were perennials and came back every year — he didn’t have to plant them over and over to enjoy the colors. Matthew made an effort to be careful around the bases of the plants, even going so far as to get on his knees and pull dead leaves from the crowns with his gloved hands, not only to please his mother but so he could enjoy the flowers as long as they lasted.

A strange sight caught his eye as he was kneeling in the dirt — a small flower blooming in a mix of red and yellow and pink, the colors mixing like the top of a rainbow; he wasn’t sure where one color stopped and the next began. He had never noticed this particular flower before, and he was sure his mother wouldn’t have planted anything so beautiful in the middle of a clump of bushy hydrangeas where it couldn’t be seen. He got off his knees and yelled toward the house as loud as he could.

Mom! Mom — what is this? Come out here and look!

After a long moment, Mrs. Anderson walked out the back door and down the porch steps. She was dressed in scrubby clothes as well, which meant she was probably cleaning the house; everyone did chores on Saturday morning. She had a book in her hand, which she tossed toward Matthew. It landed in the grass a few feet from where he was standing.

That book has all the plants and animals and bugs you’ll find in our neighborhood, she said. Flip through it and see if you can find it. If you can’t, I’ll come back out when I’m finished with the carpets. She tossed his water bottle next to the book, Don’t forget to drink water; it’s hot out here.

Matthew had no intention of reading a book on a Saturday, no matter how curious he was about the flower. He stared at the book but made no move toward picking it up. His mother knew exactly what he was thinking.

Your sister is nearly finished mowing; have her help you. She walked back into the house to finish her chores — Mrs. Anderson didn’t want to be stuck in the house on a beautiful Saturday any more than her kids did, and hurried back to complete her work. She had assigned the task of washing windows to Mr. Anderson, and wanted to keep her eye on him as well.

Lucy! Matthew screamed to be heard over the roar of the lawn mower’s engine. Luuuuuuceeeee!

He caught her attention and waved frantically for her to come over. Harley was intrigued as well, and ambled toward where the book lay to give it a sniff. Lucy shut down the mower, walked to her little brother, and picked up the book.

I’m nearly done with the yard; what do you want? She flipped through the pages quickly, not reading or caring what information it contained — she was only thinking of her friends and the mall and the sparkling blue dress she had been saving her money for. Lucy liked the flowers too, but she had more important things on her mind at the moment.

Find this flower and tell me what it is, Matthew demanded. He pointed into the shrubs. He grabbed his water bottle and unscrewed the top for a sip.

Matty, I have places to go and things to do. Why can’t you find it yourself?

That book has so many flowers! Help me. He added, Please? in a whiny, pleading voice he knew would work on her. Their parents had taught them to help each other when they could, and Lucy usually helped her little brother.

She tucked the book in her back pocket. Where is it? she asked, a bit impatiently.

Matthew pointed toward the hydrangeas and saw Harley nosing toward the exact spot. Harley, no! he yelled, afraid the dog would step on it or eat it before they could identify it. Harley liked flowers, too.

Lucy and Matthew got on their knees and crawled the short distance toward the dog and the mystery flower. The three of them reached it at the same time and paused a few inches away, amazed at the beauty of the colors. It was shaped like a daisy, with a round center and a dozen petals emanating to complete a circle; each separate petal had its own rainbow of red, yellow, and pink, smoothly flowing one color to the next, and the spherical center seemed to be a mix of each color although they couldn’t tell where one was separate from the other. It was a flower that neither had ever seen before. Harley snorted at it, as confused as the kids were.

I don’t think mom planted this, Lucy said in a hushed voice. The flower took her breath away with its brightness in the dark space it grew. The shiny green leaves, shaped like hearts, attached to a single glossy green stem and radiated light as if they were glowing. The plant stood only a foot tall, easily lost in the three-foot bushes that surrounded it, and Lucy was surprised that her brother even noticed it when all he was thinking about was playing games.

Where’s the book? Matthew asked. What’s its name?

Shush, Lucy said, still talking softly as if a loud voice might make the petals fall to the ground. It looks like it smells good.

They inched closer to the flower, each intending on sniffing it first; Harley crawled on his belly, seeming to know what they were doing. As one, the three approached the glowing flower and inhaled deeply, and it was the best smell that any of them could imagine.

Lucy smelled new clothes in the store, and soft pretzels, and the squishy orange drinks she loved so much.

Matthew smelled the scent of a new computer when it gets hot, and potato chips.

Harley smelled rabbits and chipmunks and the fresh beef he sometimes got for dinner.

The instant they got a whiff of the scents they loved the most, the three had a dizzy sensation of falling out of control, straight down like they were on a steep water slide and catching air, making their stomachs lurch with the free fall.

"Where