Home

Friends Activities

Library Programs

Book Donations
and Sales

Gifts & Tributes

Join the Friends

Board Members

Palisades Branch

Contact Us

SUMMER CREATIVE WRITING CONTEST
2008 WINNER

A Rose With Lacquer Would Smell As Sweet

by Zoe Dutton

I suppose you’ve never thought about a plant’s feelings. No? Most people haven’t. It never occurs to them that when they pluck a leaf off a flower, it might cause the flower considerable pain. Well it’s occurred to me! I’m a Damask rose, and a very high quality one, not like those gaudy red roses with the freesia. I’m also an intelligent one. My main fear in life is that I’ll be picked for a bouquet. I live on several acres of rose farm, and I know it is only a question of time until I’ll be picked. All the other roses actually want to get chosen; whenever the gardener comes around to pick flowers for the bouquet they always preen hoping they’ll get picked! It never even occurs to them that after a week you’ll shrivel up and die because you don’t have dirt! That’s all picking leads to: death!

Of course, it was bound to happen. It was a lovely Saturday morning, and I was lost in thought about my latest dream. Then I was abruptly awakened from my reverie by stomping sounds behind me. The gardener was approaching! Taken by surprise, I didn’t have enough time to tuck myself under the Alba rose’s leaves, and thus was in plain sight when the gardener tramped into view. “Please don’t let me get picked, oh mighty rose gods, please!” I begged silently in my head. But apparently the rose gods didn’t hear me, because the gardener cut my stem and plunked me down along with a bunch of other flowers in his bag.

I don’t want to go through the horrors of sitting in that bag, waiting for market day. It was hot and stuffy, and I was tangled up with all the flowers, even the red ones that especially peeved me. The point is that when Sunday morning rolled around I was wrapped up in newspaper, along with a dozen other roses, and ready to be sold. I was not a happy camper. Who would be after having their roots ripped out? I waited to be bought in a glum silence. Finally, I was purchased by a family of three: a mother, son and her teenage daughter. They dumped me in their trunk, where I spent the ride jostled by a basket of freakishly large strawberries. When they reached their house I was trimmed, and stuck in a vase of water along with some gardenias. The mother bustled out to do some laundry, the daughter chatted with her friend on the phone, and the son went through his Pokemon cards. In short, I was forgotten. Until…

“Mom!!! Where did you put my mascara?” Chelsea, the daughter yelled “I’m going to be late! And this is my very first date!” Her mother entered the room, and immediately started to fuss with the flowers decorating the neckline of her daughter’s dress.

“Honey, don’t you think you’re a little young to be wearing mascara?”

“Maybe you’re right. But I need to get a move on. Where’s Matty?” Chelsea’s little brother immediately scampered into view.

“Chelsea’s got a boyfriend! Nah Nah!” he teased gleefully.

“Ha ha” Chelsea said sarcastically “Just give me a kiss and wish me good luck, it might help to settle the butterflies in my stomach.”

“One second! I wanna show you my new secret Taba-Taba Pokemon formula!” Before his sister could protest he dashed into his room and grabbed a plastic cup full of some blue liquid.

“Isn’t it cool? It has healing powers to cure the Guba serpents!” Chelsea smiled indulgently at her brother’s fantasies.

“Wow! Do you think it’ll help me on my date?”

“Oh I’m sure! I just have to rub it on you!” Matty leaned forward and slathered it all over his big sister’s neck.

“Ayeeeee!!! What have you done!!!” Even as she spoke the mixture dribbled down her chest and onto the flowers that decorated the dresses neckline.

“No! I’ll never be able to get that spot out!”

“Sweety, he didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t care! What’ll I tell Michael? That my dorkus brother ruined my dress?” Matty’s lip quivered.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. But I can fix it. Just snip off the stained rose and replace it with one from the bouquet.”

“And how am I supposed to attach it, Mr. Genius?”

“Just pin it. No one can tell the difference.” Grudgingly, Chelsea pulled me out of the vase, and pinned me to her dress. I have to say, I really did add some color to that gown.

“This doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you” she warned as her beau rang the doorbell “It just means I’m postponing you’re punishment.” So I went off, riding on the neckline of a girls dress. It really is quite an experience viewing a date from a dress. And Chelsea was so appreciative of me! She actually said, “That beautiful rose really saved the day!” When she worried that I didn’t match the rest of the dress, her boyfriend assured her that I “set off the dress very nicely.” As for me getting shriveled and dying, Chelsea decided when she got home that I looked so good on her dress that I was lacquered and attached permanently! So now I’ll never dry out. She actually thanked Matty for spilling on her because now I made her dress more attractive! I don’t know why I was worried about being bought; now I’m lacquered (which means I’ll never shrivel) and I’m extremely chic looking on that fashion statement of a dress. What more could a rose want?

THE END