by Angelina Sandoval
“Loretta! What’s growing up the side of the house?” Garth stomped in from the front door, dropping his fishing gear against the wall.
His wife’s ever-present smile was beaming at his return. “Just some old vines,” she said. “I think they’re rather lovely. But don’t mind that. Did you and the boys catch anything?”
“Why didn’t you tear them out when you noticed them?” Garth pushed past her to look out the nearest window. He could see the end of the vine peeking over the sill. That hadn’t been there when he left on his fishing trip. “We’re not even going to be able to see outside before long.”
Loretta’s smile shifted into a look of bewilderment. “It’s just a vine, darling.”
“Well, I ain’t going to sleep knowing it’s there.”
“Wha—but you just got home,” said Loretta. “Don’t you want to rest?”
But resolve had already settled into Garth’s bones as he stomped away from her, heading to the shed outside to find the right weapon. Garth pulled his keys from his belt, unlocking the door and storming inside.
A rack of gardening tools against the wall shone under the sunlight, only dimming from leftover dirt and well-worn wooden handles. Garth scanned the rack before snatching up a long, sturdy gardening hoe.
As he headed back outside, he could see the vines curling up the walls of his house. He could see a future of them left unchecked. It would choke his family out of their home, out of their lives. Images flashed through his mind of a vine-covered forest floor. He remembered the life-altering suffering such vines could cause. He would not have that, not in his own home.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of Loretta pulling the children away from one of the second-story windows as she shook her head unceremoniously. Garth paid them no mind.
Trudging through Loretta’s hydrangeas, he finally reached the stretching menace that pulled across his painted white walls.
“You have no business being here,” Garth said before taking the hoe in both hands and raising it high.
Garth brought down his weapon with all the force he could muster. Wet crunching filled his ears as the blade tore hairy stems apart. Clusters of large leaves rained down onto the ground. The vines’ fleshy roots became visible with the upturned soil. Like outstretching appendages, they reached deep into the ground to steady themselves against his barrage of attacks. But Garth would not let them escape his blade. He hacked downward, tearing up every trace of them he could find left in the soil.
When he was finally sure the last of the roots were ripped out, Garth lowered his weapon and went to grab a large trash bag. He began stuffing the remains inside, studying the ground to make sure that nothing was left behind.
The sun was setting by this point, and in the dimming light, Garth noted that mud had splattered against the white walls and windows during his attack. He knew that Loretta wouldn’t be happy to wake up to the mess in the morning, but he was exhausted from the day and knew he could clean up the mess before his wife even got out of bed. She wouldn’t even notice.
With his plan solidified in his mind, Garth tied off the end of the thick, plastic bag and threw it into the garbage can before heading back to the shed to lock it up for the night. Now he would be able to sleep. And Garth headed inside the house.
***
Garth awoke the next morning to the early orange beams of sunlight starting to enter into his bedroom. Loretta and the kids were still fast asleep, so as quietly as he could, Garth began getting to work, gathering a bucket and rags to clean up with.
But what he saw when he made his way outside made him stop dead in his tracks.
The vines were back. They had climbed farther up the window and wall than they had yesterday, and they were even fuller and more imposing than the day before.
Garth dropped the bucket. It fell on its side, spilling over. Garth rushed towards the shed. His hands, shaking from the boiling blood traveling through his veins, took an extra moment to unlock the shed door. He tore through box after box before reaching one that held what he was looking for: a bottle of chemical herbicide.
Grabbing the bottle, Garth went back outside to face his foe. It towered over him, but Garth didn’t waver. He opened the bottle, tossing the cap behind him, and began to pour. The chemicals sloshed out and all over the ground. But it wasn’t enough.
He rushed over to his truck, rushed over to the nearest supply store, and bought as many different bottles of herbicides he could get his hands on.
Once back home, he began pouring the different bottles into the bucket, creating a reeking chemical concoction that had to be lethal.
Out of the corner of his eye, Garth saw Loretta peek through the vine-covered window. He soon heard the front door swing open and saw his wife rushing towards him, her usually soft features twisted into an upset shock.
“What is going on out here?” Her brows furrowed as her head whipped back and forth between him, the bucket, her hydrangeas, and the vine-covered wall.
“It’s back.” Garth turned back to his bucket, grabbing another bottle and dumping its contents in.
“What?”
“That vine.” He spat out the words as if they were made of the poisonous mixture he was creating. “It’s back. I tore it out yesterday, and here it is today, covering even more of the house.”
Loretta looked baffled. “And my hydrangeas?”
“What?”
“My hydrangeas,” she said, pointing to her trampled flowers. “What did you do? Lawn-mower the whole flower bed? They’re crushed! And half of them look like they’re drowning in who-knows-what.”
“I’ll buy you new ones once I’ve gotten rid of this infestation,” Garth said.
“New ones? I’ve been raising those shrubs for years.”
Garth threw the newly empty herbicide bottle on the ground so hard it bounced over a yard away from him. “And now you’ll get some new babies to spend years fussing over.”
Loretta shook her head in disbelief. “You know, you’ve always been finicky over your plants, but this is crazy, even for you. They’re just vines, Garth.”
“Vines that I need to stop from covering the whole house,” he said, pulling up the filled, discolored bucket of chemicals. “Unless you want to be choked out of your livelihood by just some vines.”
“I don’t have time for this,” she said, throwing up her hands and turning back towards the house. “I need to get ready for work. Don’t destroy the whole yard while I’m gone.”
Garth ignored her. He had a more important mission to carry out. He went back over the fallen flowers and shrubbery and made his way back to the vines.
“I’d like to see you come back from this,” Garth said, pouring the bucket onto the ground and flooding the plant’s base. Lifting the bucket up, he swung it upwards, sending the remaining herbicide to coat as much of the plant as possible.
Some splashed onto him. It stung and caused his skin to redden, but he ignored it. The herbicide would at least take a few hours to penetrate the skin of the green intruder. But Garth was willing to wait to watch the destruction.
Going back to the shed, he grabbed a folding chair out of one of the storage boxes. He set it up on the front lawn and sat and waited.
A couple of times the kids came out of the house asking about lunch or if they could all go fishing. Garth’s eyes never wavered from the vines.
“Daddy’s busy today,” he said. “You’ll have to sort yourselves out.”
When Loretta returned home, she looked furious but said nothing as she rushed past him and into the house.
Hours after the poison had been placed, after hours of waiting, Garth saw it. Leaves were wilting. Parts of the vine were turning a sickly yellow, especially near the base where the chemical mixture was bubbling and mixing with the dark soil into something black and tar-like. And with those pieces of proof, Garth knew he had won.
Getting up from his chair, Garth saw Loretta open the front door, looking around at his progress disapprovingly before heading back inside.
He knew everything would be alright though. She’d realize he had done what he’d had to. Now that the vines were destroyed, now that his family and home were safe, he would be able to sleep. And Garth headed inside the house.
***
The next morning, Garth went downstairs as soon as he woke up. Looking out the front window, he saw the withered remains of vines slouched against the bottom of the window sill. He had done it. He rushed outside.
Elation quickly dropped into what felt like a hard rock deep in his gut. The area surrounding the window was mostly cleared. But the rest of the wall was just about covered in vines. Garth could feel his heart beating loudly in his ears.
He didn’t want to think about it, but the images refused to stay buried any longer.
No one talked about it anymore. Everyone knew how his mother’s reactions were too volatile after. He had never even told Loretta that he was the one to find his brother’s body all those years ago, tangled up in those vines in the forest. Garth’s older brother had a habit of running away and coming back home days later. No one expected this incident to be any different. Garth was barely six.
The blood rushing to his ears was too strong to bear. He would not let these vines take his family from him again. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and headed over to the flower bed where it all started. The soil was still soaked in herbicide, and yet, some shoots of the vines were rising up the walls from that same bed of soil.
Hands shaking, Garth leaned down and began setting the leaves ablaze. It didn’t take long for the twisting, hairy vines to catch on fire. Dark smoke began rising quickly.
Garth soon heard the front door open with a jerk and Loretta’s quick footsteps close behind.
“What are you doing?” she said in a panic.
“I need to get rid of them.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Loretta’s voice shook, and when Garth looked back at her, he saw the flames’ dancing reflections shining back at him from her eyes.
She didn’t wait for him to answer before sprinting back into the house, shouting for the kids.
She didn’t get it. She would once he got rid of the weeds though. If they wanted to choke him out of his own house, then they could try. He’d burn them into ashes for trying.
Garth continued setting various individual vines on fire, coating the ones that weren’t coated in herbicide to help them light easier.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Loretta scooping the kids into the truck before taking off down out of the driveway. He’ll have to give them a call when it was safe to come back home.
Soon all the vines were completely engulfed in fire. Faintly, Garth briefly thought he heard the distant sound of an emergency siren. But if he had, the sound was quickly overtaken by the roaring crackle of flames.
He had done it. He had defeated the dangerous plague that threatened him and his family. Now that the vines were destroyed, now that his family and home were safe, now that every trace of them was nothing but ash that could never come alive again, he would be able to sleep. And Garth headed inside the house.
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