Old Albert walked into the house at an easy pace, bringing several perfect new potatoes for the evening meal.
"Here you go, Mary. A couple of beauties.'
"Thanks, dear' replied Mary, his wife of forty years. How are the carrots coming along ?'
"Ready to pull in a couple of weeks, I reckon.'
Mary rarely went out into the garden, preferring to spend her time reading or visiting her large circle of friends. The circle, however was shrinking.
"Mrs Hubbard passed on last week' said Mary. `Remember old Elsie Hubbard ?'
"Dear old stick. Peacefully ?'
"In her sleep, dear.'
"It catches up fast when you get to our age. You can't hang around forever.'
"No, dear. You certainly can't.'

Albert liked nothing better than to potter around the garden. He was inspecting the carrots, now only a few days from full size. Pulling out a weed here and there. Some grass had strayed from the lawn. Isolated patches of kikuyu, couch and buffalo. He came upon a patch of wireweed. It had probably been there for a while, he thought. My eyes aren't what they used to be. He gave it a sharp tug. It did not budge. Another tug. Still it remained. Strange, he thought. A few sharp tugs usually do the trick. Wireweed comes out, roots and all, when pulled hard enough, unlike couch or buffalo, which simply snap off, piece-by-piece.
He looked closer. Maybe it isn't wireweed. The leaves were more bluish than the characteristic dark green of wireweed. And were the leaves larger ? Probably nothing. Can't trust the old eyes.
"Hi, Alby !' a familiar voice said, from behind him.
"Jim. Come on over !'
"Is Mary in ?'
"Out for the day.'
Jim was several years younger, and in excellent health. Visits from Jim never failed to Albert feel younger. Over a leisurely cup of tea, they discussed their mutual passion.
"You must come around and see my Wormwood hedge' suggested Jim. `It's come up a treat since I re-trimmed it. How are your gourds ?'
"Coming along fine. Say, you know your weeds pretty well.'
"They just keep coming back' chuckled Jim. `They know me as well as I know them.'
"Got a really funny one. Just spotted it yesterday. Come and have a look.'
He had to agree. `It's a new one on me. Looks like wireweed, but also a bit like couch. Think we've discovered a new species.'
"As if the world didn't have enough weeds.'
The two avid gardeners chuckled.
"And you couldn't get it out ?'
"Tougher than an Ironbark.'
"Right. Let's have a go.'
Albert looked on as Jim pulled hard at the green strands. They strained. Jim's muscles flexed. He grunted.
"Don't overdo it, old boy.'
"Just had my heart checked last week. It's fine.'
The weed began to move. Slowly, its' underground structure revealed itself.
"Got a large root system' remarked Albert, as Jim continued to pull, though with less effort. The weed came out easily now. As more of its' enormously long root system came up, Albert could swear he saw other clumps of weeds vanishing below ground.
Something else, which neither man noticed, was where the weed fell, as it yielded from the ground. The strand Jim had pulled was now about thirty feet in length. It lay in a curling heap, just behind Jim. And it seemed to be getting closer ...
"Nearly got it all, I reckon. There !'
The last section lashed from the earth with the final tug, and Jim fell back onto the pile of weed. Albert stood and stared for a moment. The weed seemed to be curling around Jim like a slow boa-constrictor.
"Get up, Jim !'
"I'm OK. Just lost my balance for a moment.'
Albert helped him out of the tangle. `Let's burn this dratted thing' he said.
"But you might have discovered a new species. Could make you famous.'
"World doesn't need any more weeds.'
Twirling the weed around a large stick, he carried it to the incinerator and threw in a match. The incinerator began to shake. Or is it just my eyes, thought Albert.
Then something very odd happened. Albert did not doubt his eyes on this one. The lid leapt off the incinerator ... ahead of a small explosion. The weed was propelled high into the air. As it fell, Albert could clearly see where it would land.
"Get out of the way, Jim !'
He tried to push him away but was not fast enough. It landed on Jim. Albert watched in horror as it curled around him. Helpless, Jim cried out `What's happening ?'
It began to unwind and re-enter the soil. Albert breathed a sigh of relief. `Good' he thought. `It's going away.'
But his heart missed a beat as the weed began to take Jim into the soil. Jim no longer knew what was happening. He was unconscious.
Albert was helpless to prevent Jim's legs, waist, chest, neck sink into the fertile earth. As the last hair on his head disappeared, he grabbed a shovel and frantically dug at the spot where his friend went down. One foot deep. Nothing. Two feet, three feet.
Still nothing. Albert, not a fit man, had to stop.

"Have a nice day, dear ?' asked Mary, returning from a day-long visit.
"No, darling. Remember Jim ? I lost him today.'
"Just today ? Where ?'
"In the garden. Just like that.'
"Happens to us all at this age. Can't hang around forever.'
Albert never disturbed the wireweed again.

(C) Aris Jade 27/3/87

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