The Rightful Owner

The hedges were tall and mostly bare except for a few small green leaves on top. There were gaps between the leafless branches so the backyard next door could be seen in full view. Mary peeked through the branches and saw a garden in its early stages--rows and stakes and green stems and leaves popping up from the ground. And on the far side was a row of tulips just beginning to blossom. There were yellows and purples and pinks, but the one that caught Mary̕s eye was a red one on the end. Its closed petals were like velvet and its strong blue-green stalk and leaves cradled it tenderly. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“MairEEEE!“ her mother yelled from the kitchen window, “DINNER TIME.”

Mary ran into the house obediently with a vision of the flower in her head.

For the next week, immediately after school, Mary went straight to the hedges to behold the beautiful emerging tulip that she had discovered. She watched each tiny increment of change and, when the flower had fully blossomed, she felt an ache in her heart. The next day, in an impulsive explosion of energy and excitement, Mary searched for the largest opening in the hedges. When she found it, she slowly placed one leg through and then the other, biting her lip against the pain in her arms and legs from the scratching hedge branches. The tall deck in the neighbor's backyard blocked their back windows and prevented them from seeing her trespassing. Her heart was beating fast as she nimbly crept through the garden directly to the red tulip.

She hesitated in front of the precious flower for an instant taking in its glory from a close vantage point. Then, in a determined and almost impulsive movement, like a sparrow yanking a worm from the ground while keeping a keen eye on its nest, she snapped the tulip off at the bottom of the stem, her eyes darting around her to be sure no one saw what she was doing. Her hands trembling, she raced carefully through the garden, and plunged back through the hedges, protecting the flower with one gently curved hand. Once back in her own yard, Mary breathed more slowly, put her face into the tulip's opening, and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating.

Going into the back door of her house and up the back stairway, Mary made it to her bedroom without being noticed. She placed the flower gingerly on her bed and went to the kitchen for a glass of water to hold her precious treasure. Mary put her face directly over the flower's opening and inhaled deeply once again to experience the flower's potent and heavenly scent, and placed it in the homemade vase, observing its yellow and black markings inside, more evidence of the flower's wonder and value. She placed it on her desk where she could steal glances at it, and then began working on her fifth grade geography homework, glancing up at the tulip from time to time, smiling ear to ear at her acquisition.

After a while, she heard footsteps outside her bedroom in the hallway.

“MairEEEE!” her mother yelled, and Mary's bedroom door immediately opened.

Mary gasped, not having expected her mother to arrive at home from work this early; she had hoped to find a suitable hiding place for the flower before her mother got home.

“Where did you get THAT?” her mother shrieked.

Looking down at the floor, Mary answered, “from the next door neighbor's yard.”

“You HAVE to give it back!” her mother screamed. "Go over there right now and give it to them! I hope they'll accept it now that you've damaged it. What a terrible thing for you to do! To steal a flower from our neighbors! I'm so disappointed in you!" Mary looked at the floor while her mother talked. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. When her mother left the room, Mary immediately grabbed the glass with the flower in it, tears falling from her eyes.

Slowly Mary made her way outside into the cool afternoon. She nervously trudged along on the slate sidewalk, noticing the fire hydrant, its red base and yellow top. The bright red color mimicked the color of the tulip, but lacked that smooth, soft, velvet texture of the flower.

Mary arrived at the neighbor's door in a few minutes. Ringing the doorbell, she held the flower-filled glass in her two trembling hands. When the door opened, Mary's heart sank and she said in a shaky voice, “I took this from your yard. I'm sorry.” The neighbor smiled, put her hand to her chest and said, "Oh my goodness!" She then added, "You can keep that tulip, we have so many and we can hardly enjoy them since we can't see them very well out of the back windows. We planned to give your family a few anyway."

Mary could hardly believe what she was hearing. Tears fell down her cheeks in streams. "Thank you Mrs. Gentry," Mary said, her voice cracking. The spring came back into her step as she left the neighbor's house. She brought the flower back home and held it high, smiling widely. This time she did not sneak into her room. She went straight to the kitchen and presented the flower to her mother as a gift, a perfect red tulip.