I watched the procession of cars disappear the same way they had come, and then, however shaken, I went back to my work—my work, after all, which was no more and no less than dutifully tending to the frail and exhausted plants that had journeyed from far and wide to take their place in the illustrious park, designed by the great botanist and landscape architect who had taught people to see exquisite beauty in the native species of his country. That night, a bright blue spring night, I rode home on my bicycle and took a bath and watched the dirt swirl away down the drain, where it would join all of the other sediment making its slow way back to the sea, floating down league after soundless league. I wanted to call someone to tell them what had taken place, but who was there to call? I thought it was possible that I might never see him again, which, looking back, shows just how naive I was about the way the generals worked.

That night I didn’t sleep. The following day, when I arrived early at the park, he was already sitting behind his desk. He looked terrible; either he’d slept in his clothes or he hadn’t slept at all. But I was relieved all the same. I boiled the water for tea. When I brought in the tray, he insisted on pouring the steaming liquid for both of us. His hand shook ever so slightly, and the tea splashed into the saucer. There are things you should know, he said quietly. Should I? I asked, and dropped a heaping spoonful of sugar into his cup. I stirred, and we watched the sugar dissolve. These are not ordinary times, he whispered. To build a park like this, one has to sleep with the devil. I folded my hands in my lap, the hands of a simple gardener, and studied my nails. A garden is an arrangement of light. One has to think from which direction the sun will shine, how it will set and how it will rise, which leaf will reveal and which will obscure. I unrolled the plans for the park, and wordlessly—yes, with a trace of my finger—I drew his attention to this or that detail, until his vision returned to him. Then I stood and put the tea things away. God dwells in your gardens, I said, and walked out the door to begin the morning’s work.