“Look, we need to buy our food locally – we live next door to Fruitland Memorial Park, and if it doesn't grow there we really don't need it unless you know for sure how people are treated when they are growing bananas and pineapples and stuff.”
Eight-year-old Edwina Ludlow was gardening with her dark brown hair curling out from under her little hat, gardening after Zooming with Mrs. Della Scott, head of Lofton County's Heirloom Seed Society, and putting together what she had learned about from Mrs. Scott, “my new garden grandma,” with the things she knew … and the things she thought she knew … with Mrs. Maggie Lee, her big cousin.
“See, because the same way people like Gracie's family are not going to sit around and let you enslave them, other folks are not having it either, because there's this song called the 'Banana Boat Song,' and if you listen until like the last verse, folks are hiding big deadly black tarantulas in big banana bunches.”
“Wow,” Mrs. Lee said. “You really do listen to these songs, Edwina.”
“Well, that one is easy to remember because there was this movie talking about why people are afraid of spiders called Arachnophobia, and … .”
Mrs. Lee held a straight face with an effort, knowing Edwina was conflating fact and fiction, but marveling at the power of her little cousin's mind in connecting all these details together.
“... and so one of those spiders got through, and they had all this trouble because basically those things are like my brother Robert in big, big spider form, and so you already know they were taking people my size for a snack and you as a giant spider's lunch.”
“That doesn't sound like fun at all,” Mrs. Lee said.
“It isn't,” Edwina said, “which is why the work Mrs. Scott my new garden grandma is doing and the people at Fruitland Memorial Park are doing and the local farmers are doing and the work we're doing here is so important, because we can't tell if the people growing pineapples and bananas are being treated right, and I'm telling you, you just need one person like me to break bad and put one of those big spiders in there because she's tired, and then we gotta do all this stuff just to not be eaten alive.”
“Well, you know there are fair trade fruits and vegetables – we can check,” Mrs. Lee said.
“We can?” Edwina said.
“Yep,” Mrs. Lee said. “We just need to do research.”
“OK, I'm into that,” Edwina said, “because the thing is, if we don't treat people right, we're going to get more stuff like having a spider with Robert's attitude about food –.”
“Food? Where?” five-year-old Lil' Robert Ludlow said as he came running to his big sister and their big cousin.
“Can you imagine life with eight hollow legs to put food in?” Mrs. Lee asked her baby cousin.
“Sounds like a plan to me!” Lil' Robert said, “see, because, I'm doing all I can with two, but until I get tall next week, eight would be good!”
“Well,” Mrs. Lee said, “there's gotta be a spider out there with the same attitude, Edwina, so you're right: we need to source most of our food locally and do our research.”
“I'm trying to be a sweet and helpful little girl, I really am,” Edwina said, “so because I don't play about mine, I gotta make sure y'all know what's up.”
“Where do I get my other legs, though?” Lil' Robert said.
“Next week, though!” Mrs. Lee said brightly, and on hearing his favorite phrase for all things he wanted to do but couldn't do yet, Lil' Robert grinned and settled down with his big sister to pick zucchini with Mrs. Lee.
