The Clockwork Toymaker and Other Fables

The Garden

There was once a garden, filled with only the most exotic and beautiful flowers in the world. There were roses red as sunset and white as alpine snow. There were flowering orchids and lilies, fragrant beyond description, azure, pink and orange. Every hue, shape and pattern was represented, fertile and ripe. And in the middle of this garden was the most beautiful flower of all, a delicate, slender stemmed creation, with iridescent petals and a defiant and complex aroma. But this flower was tragic, for she had been born upside down, her roots splayed wide above the ground and her luscious, sweeping petals wrapped tightly in a ball and trapped inside the earth, surrounded by dirt.

One day during the winter months, a boy came venturing into the garden, looking for a flower to give to his true love. He was looking for something to comfort her during the short and cloudy days, to console her during the dark and empty nights. He was looking for a way to express his feelings, to tell her that he cared, that she was constantly in his thoughts.

He wandered through the garden, gazing at the multitudinous displays, gasping at each ever more wondrous sight, revelling in sensation. Several times he stopped, thinking he had found the perfect flower, ready to pull out his trowel and dig. But something drove him forward, in ever tighter circles, deeper and deeper into the garden, until at last he was standing in its centre, staring at the most beautiful flower of all. Her dark tangled roots twisted in a heap, curling out in all directions, disordered and chaotic. Her beauty was hidden below the ground, compressed, furled and encrusted. But somehow the boy sensed that this was the flower he wanted. He got down on his knees and started to dig.

As the flower felt the earth moving around her she gasped. At last she was being released, her beauty exposed. She felt vulnerable, filled with awe and trepidation. She was uncertain what would happen.

The boy continued to dig, careful not to damage the flower, to keep her protected and safe.

Soon he had freed her from the earth. He laid her on the ground and wrapped her carefully in linen. Then he put her in his knapsack and headed quickly home.

When he entered his house he was alone. His true love was out picking vegetables and herbs for dinner. He pulled the flower from his knapsack and placed her gently on the kitchen table. Then he headed out, in search of a vase, and perhaps some meat to cook.

While he was away, the boy's true love returned, carrying a basket of carrots and potatoes. She placed them on the table, beside the flower. She had in mind a winter soup, thick and hearty. She pulled her sharpest knife from the wall and started to wash and chop the vegetables.

When she had cut up all the carrots and potatoes, she saw the flower lying beside them, dirty and compressed. Her mind on other things, the boy's true love mistook the flower for a root vegetable of some kind. She chopped away the roots and raised her knife to cut the bulb.

The flower was confused. She started to weep and pray. She did not know what was happening. As the knife drew down upon her, she screamed, an unceasing wail of such anguish and despair it led all around her to cry in turn. It brought tears to the eyes of the boy's true love, which rapidly turned to streams.

As the boy's true love wept, terrible floods of tears, she realised too late what she had done. She cried and cried, lost in the tragedy of her actions. She had not meant to destroy a beautiful flower, only to prepare a warming meal for her and the boy. She did not want to cause suffering or pain.

The boy returned and found her weeping, the chopped remains of the flower strewn across the kitchen table. His eyes also welled with tears and he felt guilty to have left the flower exposed and vulnerable. He had not taken enough care of this beautiful and fragile thing.

He put down the vase he had found and took his true love in his arms.

"It's okay," he said. "Everything is okay."

Then he swept up the petals of the world's most beautiful flower and placed them in a pot with the vegetables and meat. The stew he made was wonderfully savoury and sweet.

They ate in silence, thankful to have been touched by this wonderful beauty, sorry it had been so short lived.

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I hope you also enjoy the other stories in this collection.