The Jungle of Neglected Lawns

We had finally gotten down to about eight hours and four days left till Christmas Eve.  That would be two hours a day if we pushed it.  And we were pushing it.  I wasn’t the only one who was exhausted.  The hours were getting harder to find.  As it turned out, the longer they remained corrupted, the harder they were to sense.

Chaz looked for them the same way I looked for a parking spot.  He just kind of walked and eventually found something that proved he was going the right direction.  It’s kind of a weird ability to explain, but I suppose things never needed to be explained in full.  At least not for me.  It’s amazing how a person only needs details on a few things.  How easily I accepted the Realm was a prime example.

“It’s like a cross between a ghost town and a prairie,” I observed.

“I was thinking more Amazon jungle with a paved road down the middle of it,” Mills suggested.

“The Homeowners Association’s worst nightmare,” Chaz chimed in.

The street was a typical suburban neighborhood, with cul-de-sacs and random loops.  It was the yards that destroyed the idea of typical.  If anyone ever had a neighbor who refused to take care of their yard, it was no doubt making an appearance before me.  There were no houses, just yards.  In cases where the grass was just dead, I could see the outline of where the house would have been.  Concrete driveways and sidewalks led to nowhere except to pitiful lawns.

“At least they’re grouped by type,” I pointed out.

The circles and lanes were all appropriately named.  Dead Grass Street stretched on as a row of nothing.  Junkyard Lane had anything you could imagine just sitting in the open.  We avoided Inconsiderate Pet Owners Court and finally ended up wandering down Weed Jungle Road.  Sleeping Beauty’s bush had nothing on these overgrown fortresses.

“Twenty bucks says it’s somewhere on this street,” Mills sighed.

“Why would I bet against something I agree with?” I questioned.

“What makes you two so sure it’s here?” Chaz asked.  “I don’t sense anything.”

“Because it won’t be easy,” Mills grumbled.  “Why can’t it be easy?”

“The first half were pretty easy,” I pointed out.  “Well, sometimes.  The socks and luggage definitely weren’t.”

“Either of them on the same level as the cell phone chargers that tried to strangle me earlier?”

“Possibly.”

I could see hints of Chaz’s personality in Mills; though it probably went the other way around since Mills help create Chaz.  Still, that was probably why I got along with Mills pretty well.  I never thought that in such a short time in December I would have two good friends who weren’t human.  Sometimes I even felt more at home in the Realm.  It’s not that I had any problems with my real home.  I love my family.  It’s just that operating in the Realm was so second-nature to me.

“I think it’s about five houses down,” Chaz said as he stopped in the middle of the empty street.

Mills raised an eyebrow as he studied the glass-like Ghost.  “You think.”

“Well, I can’t sense anything yet.”

“Then what makes you so sure?” I asked.

Chaz pointed and everyone looked.  Even if Chaz hadn’t told us it was five houses down, I’m pretty sure Mills and I would have spotted the yard.  It was the only one looking a little more alive than plants should normally be.

“It’s like the yard is on steroids or some other drug.”  Mills cocked his head as he stared at the jungle that must have belonged to the yard of a mansion.

“Too much Miracle-Grow,” I guessed.

“The logical answer is that there’s an hour,” Chaz inputted.

“Where’s the fun in saying that?”

“In that case,” Chaz said as he studied the jungle, “I would have to say it looks like the place is infested with the evil version of a Chia Pet.”

“Now that’s not funny,” Mills said.  “A cousin on my mom’s side made one.  It’s worse than a garden gnome.  Let’s go mow them down.”