Behold what I have done; I’ve made a better world for everyone!
As the sun, a crimson ball of fiery hope, settled towards the darkening horizon, the sweating man stood, leaning on his shovel. The small boys gathered around in awe. One, their leader, the one with the leg caliper, lazy eye and scabby knees, spoke first.
“It’s amazing, Mr Idiot, amazing!”
“Thank you litle Johnny.”
“Actually, my name’s Nigel … but you can call me little Johnny if you want. You can call me anything; just call me! That’s what my Mums says!”
“Yes, little Johnny, we’re all well aware of what your Mum says. Take a word of advice from me. Don’t use that line on any retired teachers that you meet in the woods. Anyway, back to this. What do you think then?”
“It’s fantastic, Mr Idiot. You’ve actually gone and done it.”
“I have done my best, little Johnny.”
“It’s brilliant. You’re like God, Mr Idiot. No, you’re better than God.”
“Some have said so, little Johnny. Still, my work is but a humble effort for the children of the world.”
“Oh great, is it for us kids then?”
“Don’t be a moron. If you touch it I’ll cut your hands off. But you can stand on the other side of that tall fence and imagine what it looks like. Let it inspire you.”
“They laughed at you, Mr idiot, they laughed, but you went and done it.”
“That’s right, little Johnny. Never be afraid to dream. They can take your money, your house, your health and your life. They can take your freedom, your dignity, your self-respect and sometimes your sanity. They can take your teeth, your hair, your eyes, your ears and even your testicles. They can take your breath from your lungs, your blood from your veins, the beat from your heart, but they can never take your dreams. Dare to dream, boys, dare to dream, and never lose sight of that dream. One day, even you little Johnny, might reach that dream, and get that job washing dishes that everyone said was beyond you.”
The boys cheered.
“You showed them good and proper, Mr Idiot!” shouted one fat ginger-haired one.
“Yes boys, I showed them, and wherever there are gardeners with not enough space, wherever there are vegetables with no plots, wherever seeds lie ungerminated, I am there too!”
“So, Mr Idiot, you’re going to help other gardeners?”
“Don’t be soft. Of course I’m not. It’s just how people talk during historical moments! Let those lazy basatrds help themselves. They’re mostly tree-hugging flower-sniffing goat lovers anyway, like that Titchmarsh gobshite. Now boys, remember this day, and whenever the world is closing in, whenever you are condemned or ridiculed or told to sit down and shut up, dare to dream. Dare to dream! Now fuck off and let me get finished!”
To be continued…
Tagged Raised Beds