The dandelion

Carefully I pulled up the carrot, making sure not to remove the leaves. They're more fresh when you keep them that way. At least that's what my daddy used to say. I put the carrot into the bucket, making sure I didn't let Chris see. He doesn't like those things, or so that's what he told me. Of course I know my fish can't talk, but since he's the one that keeps me company, I thought I'd give him some personality. Not like that Jonathan kid, who just sits on the bench like a mute. Staring at me like I was crazy, poor kid says he can't see my vegetables or my fish.

Planting my shovel into the ground hard to pull up a weed I can't help but look over at him. I'd think he was blind but it does seem like he can see me. Why then he couldn't ever speak or see what I saw I figured I'd never know. Seems all he's good for is to sit and stare. Makes me wonder what he does when I'm not here. Throwing the weed into the junk bucket I suddenly have a thought.

He thinks I'm crazy because he can't see the weed. My hand reaches down and I pick up the weed, holding it firmly in my hand. I think he's crazy because he can't see what's right in front of him. But should the weed come into contact with him, and then we'd know if it were I or he who was crazy. I turned sharply and let the dandelion fly.

I watched as the weed struck him square in the head and for a moment he looked puzzled. At that point I thought I might have just knocked some sense into him, that he'd finally realized I wasn't nuts. But something in the expression on his face told me he hadn't felt a thing. I watched as he began to look around as though he'd missed what had just happened. Then I knew I was crazy.