THE HEALING OF THE GRASS
by
Margaret Marr
Lee Howell squinted up at the early September sun, shading her eyes with her hand. The sky was a perfect blue, no clouds, no haze.
We need rain, she thought, and looked at her yard in disgust. The lawn had huge patches of brown grass everywhere. One section was completely dead, no green in sight. She sighed. She'd still need to mow what grass was left, so it wouldn't look so shaggy.
The lawn mower roared to life after she gave the cord a couple of mighty yanks. She mowed a path along the edge of the bank and up by the basement of her two story house. The back yard was huge, and so was the front yard. It would take her close to three hours to mow the property. That was okay though. Since her husband worked day and night, the least she could do was keep the place looking decent; it didn't mean she dreaded doing it any less.
She made a few loops around the back yard, thinking about this and that. Her mind returned to the star she'd seen last night. A star ten times bigger than the norm. It had started zigzagging from one mountain peak to the other. Perhaps she hadn't seen a star at all. Not that she thought it was a ship from another planet. It could be, she supposed, but her mind tended to look for a solid explanation first.
Though the morning was cool, the exertion from pushing the mower caused sweat to drip down, stinging her eyes. She paused and wiped the sweat from her brow. She was almost through with the back yard when she saw them.
Two little gray men, with egg-shaped heads and big, black holes for eyes, cowered from the racket of the lawn mower. They ducked behind the storage shed. A few seconds later they peeked back out. Only their heads and long fingers, clutching the side of the building, could be seen.
Lee closed her eyes, then opened them. They were still there. No way! You're seeing things brought on by an over-active imagination, she told herself, and pushed the mower in the direction of the aliens.
The aliens screamed, though she didn't hear them over the sound of the mower. They stumbled over each other and clamored up the bank toward the woods. So much for imagination, she thought. Those things were real, and they were in her yard.
Lee realized the mower scared them, and quickly killed the motor. She stepped out from behind the machine and held up her hands. A scene from a western movie burst into her head, where the bad guy surrenders, and comes out holding his hands up. It made her burst out laughing.
The aliens had stopped, but they hesitated coming any closer. They looked at each other and then back at her, the laughing lunatic.
Lee motioned for them to come to her. "It's okay. I'm not going to run you down with this thing." She tapped the handle on the mower and giggled at the thought of chasing them all over the yard with it. She still wasn't so sure reality hadn't stepped out on her.
First one, and then the other, walked toward her. They moved slow and deliberate, like each step counted for something. They continued walking, and walked right past her without a second glance. She turned and watched as they examined the swing set her husband had built for their two boys last summer.
One hopped onto the swing seat and pushed himself ... or herself ... off. There was no obvious way to determine their sex. The other followed the lead, and they swung higher and higher until Lee was sure they'd fly in a complete circle, wrapping the chain around and around the wooden beam the swing was attached to.
Lee shoved the mower off to the side, out of the way. Grass cutting was on hold for the time being.
One of the aliens jumped from the swing in mid-air and landed on its feet in front of her. She held her breath, not quite at ease with these beings. She wasn't all too sure they meant her no harm. He or she dropped to its knees, and poked at a patch of grass, stroking a blade like it was in need of comfort from unspeakable pain.
Lee widened her eyes. "No. The machine doesn"t hurt the grass. It'll grow back. I'm not hurting it." She looked at the patches of dead grass and grimaced. The yard made her look like a liar.
The other alien joined its buddy, and together they stared at her, as if waiting for more words to spill from her mouth.
"I know. Wait here." She dashed into the house and after looking through several drawers, she found a pair of sharp scissors. When she came back outside, she noticed the aliens had not moved from their crouching position on the grass.
Lee pulled a strand of hair over her shoulder and snipped the end of it off. "See? The grass is like my hair. I can cut a piece of it off, but it doesn't hurt. It will grow back," she said and offered the aliens the piece of hair she'd cut off.
One of them rose and took the hair, examining it from all angles. It looked at her, and then reached for her hair and yanked it hard.
"Owww!" Lee grabbed hold of the alien's leathery arm and pulled its hand free from her hair. "The part attached to my scalp hurts." She rubbed her stinging head.
The alien dropped back to its knees and pulled a clump of grass up by the roots.
Lee sighed. "Yes, you will kill the grass if you pull it out by the roots. It won't grow back, like my hair won't grow back if you pull it out by the roots." She couldn't believe she was having this one-sided conversation.
They nodded as if they understood.
"We need rain. Lack of rain will kill the grass, too," she said.
The aliens looked puzzled again.
Lee pulled the water hose out and turned it on. Water gushed from the end, and she sprayed it in all directions over the fresh cut grass. "Water helps things to grow. Only it's easier if it comes from heaven." She pointed toward the sky.
The second alien took the hose from her and touched the flowing liquid. Suddenly, he turned the hose on her and drenched her head where the first alien had pulled her hair loose from the scalp.
Lee yelped and jumped back as the icy blast hit her. "No! My hair only needs water to clean it." She turned the water off. Jeez, they must be from planet stupid or something, she thought. Immediately, she felt sorry for thinking such an unkind thing. They were just different, was all. Maybe they don't have grass where they're from. Staring at their bald heads, she was also certain they didn't have hair.
She wrung out most of the wetness from her hair, picked the scissors up, and walked back to the house to put them away.
The aliens went back to stroking the grass, and humming, and rocking back and forth.
When Lee returned, the grass was up to her ankles, and one of the aliens was moving its hand up and down over the yard. Everywhere its hand swept, the grass grew ankle deep.
"No!" she screamed.
The aliens stopped and looked at her, puzzled.
"Don't make it grow back! I'll have to cut it again. Do you know how hard that is? Especially with a push mower?
Now the aliens looked hurt.
"I'm sorry, but..." She stopped and looked down at the grass. It was a deep-down, dark-green, the color of a forest green crayon. Everywhere it was that color.
Lee's mouth dropped open. "How?" was all she managed to get out. When she looked up, the aliens were headed back for the woods. "Wait a minute! I want to thank you!" But the aliens had disappeared through the trees.
She stood there in stunned silence for several minutes, and kept thinking that any second now she'd wake up. Finally, she shook herself and cranked the lawn mower and started over.
That evening she sat on the back deck, sipping iced tea. She couldn't get over how beautiful the lawn looked. It was the best she'd ever seen it, thanks to her morning visitors.
A large, silver object flew in front of the deck and hovered a few feet from her. She saw two alien faces peering out of a small window.
One pointed at the top of his head. Hair sprouted from what was once nothing but a huge bald space.
Lee fell back against the lounge chair and clutched her sides in laughter.
The aliens had used her lock of hair like grass seed. Each silent visitor had planted a lawn of hair on top of his bald head.
In exchange for the healing of the grass, she'd inadvertently given them the gift of hair.
The ship sped away, zigzagging back across the mountain.