| Horror and Thriller Script posted May 18, 2017 | Chapters: |
...7 8 -9- 10... 
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Prose Potlatch Challenge-Garden
A chapter in the book Scripts
How Does Your Garden Grow?
by michaelcahill
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
Act 1 Characters: Astor Rot der Daumen: The gardener. Called "Astor" or simply, "gardener". Mary: It isn't established exactly who she is. Her son: We only know he is Mary's son. Neighbors: Revealed as the story unfolds Fade in We open with a wide shot of a small cottage which resembles a castle in style. The camera pans over a colourful garden with a mad variety of plant, tree and floral growth. It is Spring and everything is vibrant and in bloom. An older man brushes the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and lays his shovel down. He picks up a hose and adjusts the nozzle to a fine spray. He begins to water the fruits of his labor, a small apricot tree covered in white blossoms. A mother and a little boy, her son, appear a few feet away and watch him. Astor I see you like to watch. You're welcome to assist young man, with your mother's permission of course. Son Mum, may I? May I help the gardener? He does look weary, Mum. Mary I don't know, son. What do you suppose he's planted there? Is that a fruit tree of some kind? I wonder if he's expecting fruit this season. Are you expecting fruit this season, gardener? Astor I've fertilized it with a special blend. I expect rapid growth and perhaps some fruit this year, perhaps. It is more likely that my labors will come to fruition next Spring though. The young lad seems anxious to assist. I will teach him with your permission. There's much to be learned by the toil of one's own hand. Son May I, Mum? Mary's son begins to crawl on the ground sniffing like a dog. Mary smiles broadly while Astor looks on with no expression. Mary I guess it would do no harm if the gardener finds you to be no trouble. Astor doesn't respond as Mary's son bolts on all fours towards the newly planted tree. His nose is nearly in the small puddles that have accumulated around it. Son Is it a rat? Is it a rat you've used for fertilizer? Or something bigger? A squirrel perhaps or Old Lady Dieter's Collie dog? It's the dog, no? Quite the stench it is. Yes, the dog no doubt. Or ... something bigger than that perhaps. The son begins to sing and his mother joins in. "Oh, you've cut off me head and I am quite dead but you've planted a tree and you'll grow it with me said the fair young maiden" They both fall to the ground tickled with laughter. Astor ignores them and continues to water his newly planted apricot tree. A group of neighbors comes upon the scene and one of them speaks. Neighbor man Apricot then is it, Astor? That would hit the spot this Summer. Plenty of blossoms. Any chance for an apricot pie this year? Astor I'm hopeful for an apricot or two. A pie I fear will have to wait until next year. Astor glances at Mary and her son still doubled up on the ground with laughter. He has no reaction and continues his conversation. Astor However, there are several trees that will produce a wonderful bounty this year. There will be pies a plenty I expect. The neighbors all nod in approval and make small talk amongst themselves. Mary's son crawls among them sniffing and laughing. He addresses Astor. Mary's son You could kill every one of these people here and plant a dozen apricot trees. Wouldn't that be nice? Astor continues to water with a slight furrow to his brow. He eyes each neighbor slowly considering the young man's words. Several bodies in varying states of decay begin to approach from throughout the garden speaking to Astor. Female Corpse A nice cherry pie would be delicious. I haven’t eaten a thing since you ... well, since that day. (She smiles a bloody toothless smile) Dontcha love the way the red just oozes out when you cut into it? The red ... the red flowing ... sooooo lovely ... Astor smiles and speaks to the neighbors. Astor Gardening is an art and a love. You must be devoted to your craft and be willing to sacrifice for it like you would to a lover. You nourish the garden and provide it everything it needs to flourish. Yes, just like a lover. Neighbor Woman You make it sound so romantic. There's no denying the beauty surrounding us. You're a marvel of dedication, gardener. Yes, an artist indeed. I feel a part of this ... you make me feel a part of it. Astor I'm pleased you feel a part of it. I want nothing more than for you to be a part of it, for your admiration and love to help nourish it. How lovely of you. Astor eyes her with a piercing gaze that causes her to blush. She vows in her mind to find him alone and away from this crowd. She trembles with a bit of fear mixed with an excitement she's never felt before. She looks around at her neighbors blushing and sure that they read her mind. They pay no attention to her. She looks off into the overgrown wisteria vine that acts as a tent covering the copse of apple trees nearby. It is a purple blanket and it is dark beneath it ... dark and just the place to cover a moment's abandon. Astor Of course, you are all welcome here anytime. I cherish the moments I can share this garden with you and have you be a part of it. Come back anytime. Astor is looking only at the woman who contemplates the darkness 'neath the wisteria. She looks up and breathes deeply as their eyes meet. Only Astor hears the screams and moaning emanating from the dark. Only Astor notices the blood stains on his gardening tools or the rich ruby tint to the soil throughout his garden. It is a well fertilized garden indeed. The neighbors nod as they take their leave. Neighbor Woman I am Annabelle. I will return soon. Your garden intrigues and pleases me. Annabelle extends her hand and Astor takes it to his cheek pulling her gently closer. He kisses her hand and then her forearm. Astor I work well into the evening. It is never more lovely when basking in moonlight stars peeking through through the wisteria's canopy. Til we meet again. To be continued...
So... Prose Potlatchers... let's make today's topic Gardens in tribute to Debbie on Mother's Day. Not sure this is quite in the spirit of Mother's Day. LOL! 
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