THE NIGHT GARDEN

“What in the world?” said Winifred, sitting down on my bed. “Zebediah, what were you doing in the night garden?”

“I wanted to see the hermit,” said Zebediah. “He told me that he would be weeding all night because it would be a full moon. I wanted to help him the way Wilfred helps Old Tom.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Winifred. “Listen, Zebediah, did you have to go into the garden, the one place Old Tom told you not to go?”

“I figured that if the hermit was in there, it had to be okay,” said Zebediah, sniffling.

“Well, it’s not,” I said.

“I didn’t know Old Tom would get so mad and yell,” said Zebediah. “I thought everyone was asleep.”

“Why did he get so mad?” whispered Wilfred, turning to me.

Old Tom hadn’t yet come upstairs, but we didn’t want to be heard banding together and talking about him if he did.

“Old Tom got so mad,” I began, “because the night garden was planted magically a long time ago, so long ago that nobody really knows how long it has been here. Old Tom said that it may have been here since the dawn of time.”

“What? Do you mean cavemen planted it?” asked Zebediah.

“No, before that. And family lore says that if you wish for something in the night garden, the wish will come true. But you only get one wish. And that wish can’t be undone.”

“Old Tom believes this? This wishing stuff?” asked Wilfred, looking skeptical.

“He believes it with every fiber of his being,” I said. “He has the hermit working in the garden because Old Tom hasn’t used his one wish yet. He says he’s waiting for something spectacular and life-changing to wish for and so far it hasn’t come along, but he says he will know it when it does. He is terrified of going into the night garden and thinking accidentally ‘Hmmm, I wish we were having soup for lunch’ or something and blowing the whole thing. He also says in the past people have wished for things that seemed innocent but turned out terribly for the wisher or innocent parties. He thinks children should not be allowed to wish in case they do damage to themselves and others and maybe the whole world; who knows what happens when wishes can be granted so easily and not undone afterward? And Sina has always said she will have nothing to do with it. She’s said she’s not saying it is true and she’s not saying it isn’t, she’s just staying away from the whole issue. We avoid the whole subject if we can. We always have. And don’t any of you bring it up either. But, listen, a few nights ago Sina told me something else about the night garden that Old Tom’s aunt Bertha had once told them—a story Old Tom didn’t want me to hear.

“‘More than likely it’s an old wives’ tale,’ Old Tom had said to Sina, ‘and no point scaring the child by repeating it.’