Care and feeding of the roots

 There she is. Out from beneath the trees, unearthed from the protection of a cloister, the golden wagon is exposed. "Pirates in the public," Sal said. She felt an echo saw a blank stare Sal recognized from too many other times. Invisible, and worse 'disappeared.' She promised herself she would never tolerate that in herself, or from others.

"Roots uncovered need to be tended gently. A soft moist bit of familiar. Such effort to get from here to there, just here to there ... ha." T.F. greeted Sal in the morning with his soft croak, and the woman always returned the call. If she noticed it might be enough to keep her, tend to her.

Six years had not made the pair immune to vulnerability. Sal and Sam deal with upheaval differently. Sam escalates. Sal withdraws.

 No hiding, no turning back? More will be revealed. Rather than restful sleep the remedy is still the story expressed like a pimple or goat's milk from a teat? Sam sleeps. Sal writes. Body and mind are mumbling and tumbling.

The answer is there, like Jack's magic bean stock. Sal did mark the spot with beans now rooted giving her a role model. Even closer than the Puerto Rican-Jewess activist who wrote the book entitled Medicine Stories: Essays for Radicals, the beans, the beans know how to grow even in gravel.

Sal, remember to water.