Chapter Forty-Four
The Greenhouse
“An Odyssey is just a fancy word for journey.”—Hilda
The greenhouse was large and filled with smells of hemp, tomatoes and the sounds of rustlings leaves. Prudence said it was the mice.
Pope, unconvinced, spent a fair amount of time jumping at each rustle—until Pot called him paranoid and should cut back on the hemp sugar.
Vegas stared at the miniature eco gardens dotted about the place. Platforms of old shoes filled with plants and long unpronounceable names underneath. Pope pulled a slim book from a shelf of manuals, blew the dust from the cover and handed Vegas the book.
“Here this will help.”
Vegas looked at The Greenhouse Guide. She flicked through a few pages—riveting recycling. “What has this to do with spark plugs?”
“The intro explains how
