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Chapter VI

ALADDIN’S TREASURE

The Garden of Earthly Delights wasn’t much to look at. It had been torn up recently, trees and flowers and plants tossed here and there, yellowish brown and dying. And there was nothing yet planted in their place.

“Not much of a garden, is it?” Snotty said. At this, Snowflake only looked sad and nudged him forward, toward the edge of an enormous lawn that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

This was a remarkable lawn. It was even and green and each one of its individual blades was uniform in size and color. It was soft like velvet and expensive as all get out. There was not one weed—not a dandelion, not a clover flower, not a piece of plantain. Nothing but lush green grass. And it was brand new.

“This is more like it!” Snotty said. “This is more what a Garden of Earthly Delights should be!” And now he could see who made the Garden the way it was. A dozen Giant Garden Gnomes, in bright red jackets and black leather boots, tended it, rooting up everything that wasn’t lawn and tossing it aside.

Snotty approved. “If you’ve got a lawn like that,” he thought enthusiastically, “you want to keep it looking great in every way.” So he admired the Gnomes’ work. But he was also uneasy remembering his last encounter with a Garden Gnome, and, just in case his behavior toward that little Gnome might be misunderstood by these, its much larger fellows, he thought it might be best to admire their work from afar. So without another word he walked quickly in another direction, leaving Snowflake behind.

The sound of digging caught his attention, and he saw a Sheep burying things stacked high on a wheelbarrow. As he drew closer, he could see what these things were: old china dolls, pieces of colored quilts, broken arrows, pressed flowers and a French horn. He stood for a while watching the Sheep shovel these into a deep hole in the lawn.

The sight was so engrossing that he didn’t notice, behind him, two Giant Garden Gnomes march on Snowflake and demand of him something or other, to which the little horse, in his meek way, assented. Neither did Snotty see the Garden Gnomes peer at Snowflake’s head and then put a rope around his neck, leading him away. He didn’t even notice his friend was gone.

Instead he watched the Sheep. He saw there was a method to the way the Sheep buried things. It would spread a layer of them—a white and green glass bracelet, an amateur seascape, and a rocking horse—at the bottom of the pit, then shovel in more dirt before spreading another layer—this time a bouquet of dried white flowers tied with yellowing satin ribbons, three dead kittens, and a gold metal tree hung with bells—on top. And so on.