My stubborn gardener, who probably isn't an assassin
A conversation plants and children
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I’ve always thought gardeners would make good assassins. Gardeners are ubiquitous in the San Fernando Valley, so they can hide in plain sight. Their jobs take them to dozens of homes each day. And they carry sharp tools that easily double as weapons; or, if they prefer guns, a leaf blower would mask the noise. But the main advantage of the gardener-assassin is that most people don’t talk to their gardeners, allowing them to come and go without suspicion. Once, I explained my theory to our gardener, Raphael, who told me writers have too much time on their hands. Then, with a laugh that was a little too diabolical, he added, “We would make good assassins.”
I like talking to Raphael, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s not an assassin. So when he knocked on our door this week, I put my work on hold and went outside for a chat.
“We need to talk about the Mexican sage bush,” Raphael said.
“What’s it done now?” I asked.
“It got big.”
“It’s beautiful. We love the purple.”
“It’s killing the thread grass plants next to it, robbing them of their sun.”
“That bastard!”
Raphael laughed at my joke. Did I mention I like our gardener, even if there’s a one percent chance he’s an assassin?
“We can cut the sage back, but it’ll look like we hacked it to pieces until it fills in, then we do it all over again. Or, we let it grow, but it’ll kill the thread grass.”
Murdered thread grass on the one hand, a mutilated Mexican sage plant on the other hand. Both options seemed brutal. I didn’t like either one.
“You choose,” Raphael insisted.
Either way I’d have plant blood on my hands, unless…
“Let me run it by Christina,” I said.
“Smart man.”
With business out of the way, Raphael and shifted gears. He asked about my family, and I told him that things were good. Then I asked about his family.
Raphael’s youngest daughter was pregnant again. His third grandchild was on the way. Happy news! But his other daughter was trying to get pregnant, and it wasn’t going well.
“What do they call it? IVF? Science is amazing, but it doesn’t always work. My daughter is too old. I wanted to tell her, don’t wait. But my wife said, don’t be an idiot.”
“What did you do?”
“I listened to my wife. I’m not an idiot. My wife was right. I held my tongue, and that kept the peace. So I have a good relationship with my daughter. But I was right, too. Life is short. Some things are now or never.”
I knew what Raphael meant. Christina and I chose not to have children. Christina’s parents held their tongues, but I’m sure they disagreed with our choice. My father told me we were making a mistake, then of all things, he blamed our dog, Mortimer, for depriving him of grandchild. My mother just blames us and lays on the guilt whenever she gets the chance. But Christina and I made our choice with eyes wide open. Knowing that we had a limited window, we made it a point to check in regularly. Our decision not to have kids wasn’t a choice, but rather a series of choices we made over the course of hundreds of conversations that spanned a decade. Even then, this was difficult stuff—adulting for keeps, big life decisions with no do-overs.
“That’s rough,” I said. “But you never know. Maybe your daughter will get pregnant.”
“I hope so. Now, my son…”
Raphael grimaced. In the past, Raphael has told me that his relationship with his son is his biggest regret. When he was a teenager, Raphael fled a civil war in El Salvador for the American dream. By his own account, he obtained that dream. He’s a citizen. A small business owner. A grandfather. But the dream didn’t come easy. Without an education or language skills, Raphael worked his butt off night and day to put food on the table.
“He still blames me because I wasn’t there when he was growing up.”
“Have you told him why?” I asked.
“I tried to, but it never comes out right.”
“Maybe you’re bitter. You worked hard for him, but he can’t appreciate your sacrifice.”
“Yes, I think that’s it.”
“Why don’t you try and tell him again?”
“He’s too stubborn to listen. And maybe I’m too stubborn to apologize. What do they say? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“So you’re both stubborn. Like father, like son.”
“We’re both stubborn. But he started it.”
“You sound like a kid,” I teased. “He started it.”
My comment would’ve been a risky one if Raphael was an assassin. Thankfully, he’s just a chatty gardener.
“I know, I know. It’s like he knows how to push my buttons.”
“Of course he does,” I said. “Kids are designed to test us. I have a friend, great guy, but he’s really stubborn. Guess what? His kid is the most stubborn kid I’ve ever met. Drives him nuts.”
“It’s a test.”
“Exactly. We make these tests for ourselves, but we know our weaknesses, so kids are the only test we can’t pass.”
“Is this why you don’t have kids?” Raphael asked. “You don’t like tests?”
“Actually, I test well. And I like kids. But I prefer being an uncle and a godfather.”
“Good choice.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Someone is going to come along and test your son. Then maybe he’ll get it, and you two can talk.”
“That’s why I’m worried,” Raphael said. “He’s not stupid enough to have kids.”
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Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.
Should we mutilate the Mexican sage bush, or murder the thread grass? Wrong answers only!
Would gardeners would make good assassins, or do I have too much time on my hands?
Why are kids so good at testing us?
Are you a parent? Explain yourself.
Are you child-free? Explain yourself.
I used to hate it when parents used to say, "You won’t understand X until you have kids." Now, since I've become a parent, they were totally right. There are some things that you can never understand until you have one. I say this like I have as many kids as Raphael, but I only have one who’s 9 months 😂. I understand fully why people choose now why not to have kids. But I wouldn’t trade this up for the world though.
Love the way you put the choice to not have kids -- the only sane thing a person can do. No, wait, that wasn't you. You said it was a series of conversations over the past ten years. Love that way of framing it.
When we first got together, I wanted kids and Brent most definitely did not. Over time, I came around to that point of view and haven't regretted the choice. On the other hand, since we're two men, the vasectomy was pretty pointless. But why take chances!