Estimated reading time — 23 minutes

The chirping of a blue bird woke Robert out of his blank eyed stare. His eyes refocused, as his old hands went to rub them back into reality. Their disappointed scowl still staring bluntly ahead. Robert found himself sitting on his porch. He was fatter and older than he ever wanted to be. At a point in life where looking to the future meant buying his casket, and reflection made him worriedly angry and thirsty for a beer. His wife was dead, his son Joe called him once a year and his daughter Carol was addicted to heroin. She lived out of town and never bothered to visit unless she needed money. Robert had very little to get up in the morning over. And now he had officially lost the last thing he really cared for, right here in front of him.

Something he loved more than most people loved their closest family. It wasn’t the lord. Robert was a staunch atheist and held very little pride in his Pentecostal upbringing. It wasn’t money. He lived off a monthly social security check and barely had enough to eat despite what his pot belly claimed. It wasn’t even pride. Robert was fat, out of shape, he had no money, no respect, no woman, his friends were all dead, with a lifetime of work at a factory that moved to China. He raised two ungrateful children, and his penis hasn’t worked in years. And now he lost the last thing he really had.

Robert lost his lawn. Something most people consider a chore to be gotten out of the way on their one day off. The lawn was more than that to him, it was a visible sign of prosperity, respect, and work. A man’s lawn is what you see before you walk into his castle. The real first impression. It shows who he is deep down, whether he’s a good worker, whether he’s too sorry to take care of himself, whether he cares about anything. It matters extremely to Robert, whether a man has enough pride to care for his own lawn.

When Robert bought this house out of a sears catalog back in his day. He built it on a patch of dirt where nothing grew. Once the house was up the yard was still as he bought it. Barren, dry, cracked, and riddled with ant hills. It was his late wife who asked him to do something about it, and from then on, it was history. Robert watered the ground daily until it was just soft enough to plant. He bought fresh sods of fescue in several large rolls that he laid over the barren yard. Which took root on the first go, turning the yard from a lifeless scruff of dirt into a respectable lawn in one weekend.

Robert was proud. He watered it daily, replaced patches when needed. Carefully plucked each weed by hand, root and all. Though everything in his life was gone now, his lawn had been there through it all… but not anymore. Robert didn’t know exactly what started it. The lawn had been declining for some three years now. It started slow, with seemingly random patches drying out and dying occasionally. Shot gunned throughout the yard. Once the color changed the patches would die quickly, in less than a few days. Robert first thought it was due to a lack of water but his expensive sprinklers worked as they had for 10 years. Then he thought they were getting too much, though turning them down didn’t help either. Possibly bugs? He couldn’t find any, no mounds or hives he could see. Robert finally arrived that some fungus or disease was ravaging them and he was right.

Using what little savings he had, Robert bought the appraisal of a botanist. Who told him that his grass was suffering from a host of parasites, one being Pythium Blight and another nasty one called “take all root rot.” The botanist recommend someone for treatment and Robert paid. Like the rest of his life things did not work out like he had hoped they would. He’d like to have thought that the first treatment helped a little, even though he couldn’t tell.

According to the botanist the lawn needed multiple rounds of different pesticides. Treatments Robert couldn’t afford after the first three. They weren’t expensive; that’s what hurt his pride the most. He was too poor to afford anything above dirt cheap. So his lawn, like the rest of what he had, was now gone, dead. Looking over the barren yard which had no signs of the years of work he put in disgusted him. Made Robert think of an old bible phrase he once heard at a funeral.

“Ashes to ashes dust to dust.” Robert cracked a cold beer to quench his thirst and honor the fallen. Staring at a depressing mirror image of his life’s work.

“What a life!” Robert spoke, drinking some to calm his anger, pouring the rest out of respect for the dead. He wanted to yell, to shout, to blame a God he didn’t even believe in. However, he was too old to raise a fit. If he had the energy he did 10 years ago, no, 5 years ago he’d torch the whole lawn.

“Just like everything, it’s all gone to shit. I hate my fucking life,” his quiet mutters were followed by two teenagers riding their dirt bikes haphazardly around the old road passing his house. He could hear laughing as one turned too tightly and scuffed the edge of his lawn to break his stop. Tearing a hunk of dead grass and dirt from the border. Robert felt his hands clench, clutching the beer with a shaking anger, he wanted to scream at them. Hit them, even kill them if he could catch one. He was so angry that he couldn’t think of anything else besides violence. Luckily for the boys, Robert was still too old, barely able to raise his voice; he watched in quiet desperation as the two teens rode off without looking at him. Leaving a nasty dirt chunk of ripped up yellow grass laying on the road by his mailbox. A nasty hole now sat at the edge of his yard. It was a true sign, even below the surface of the lawn, it was all dead.

“Fucking ingrates…” Robert tossed his beer and felt calmer, still deeply angry but calm. Letting simple rage fill him while seething madness retired for the day. Wanting to take his mind off reality, Robert spat as he stood up. Taking a few steps off his porch, he started to walk around the yard as he had many times before. In the past the old man used to box and work outside to keep his health. Nowadays walking was about the only thing he was confident enough to do without hurting himself. If he did a few laps around his house his doctor would tell him he did a good job when he saw him next time.

Robert watched the front porch disappear as he turned the corner wall and looked over at the brick side of his home. Devoid of anything aside from two windows. He always wanted to put something there but never got around to it. Robert looked ahead, past the wall and more decayed yard. He was surprised to find a mess of healthy green vines draped down the rocky cliff off the mountain behind his house. It was about 50 yards away, but he suddenly found the energy to hobble faster towards them. Passing a barren desert of backyard he’d already given up on, the sight of living healthy green was hopeful. Something he craved to have any crumb to hold on too.

“What the hell?” Robert said aloud. Not caring who could hear him. Especially since he lived 30 minutes from town and had no close neighbors.

“What? Where did this shit come from what is that?” Robert marched closer to the vines and took hold of them by hand. They curiously hadn’t been here a week ago, no just days ago these weren’t here he would’ve noticed. Examining them closely with a pair of highly judgmental old eyes. A stark contrast between the thriving green vine and dry dead grass surrounding Robert pleased him.

“Shit at least somethings not to sorry to grow out here,” Robert said, almost proudly as if he had something to do with the prosperity of the plant. Rolling the thin vines between his fingers. He squeezed and pulled a little, not enough to break them but enough to test their mettle. The leaves and skin of the vine were smooth and soft, yet strong. Robert felt perverted at the comparison that first entered his mind however, he could recall no other thing which was similar.

Despite his love of profanity, he didn’t dare to speak it out loud for this. Cursing like an old sailor was one thing, however, his thoughts were too personal for his lips to comfortably tattle. This plant reminded him of late wife’s… vagina. They were soft, very soft, and tough for how it looked. So thin and delicate, yet it would take a lot of his strength to rip these vines down, it was like his Nancy.

Robert and Nancy struggled back when they were young; she with the children and he with working to support them all. It was how things were done in the old days. Robert was not like the men from his generation, who had no respect for their woman. His Nancy was a fighter, strong, beautiful, and thrived in the harshest conditions. She was a true treasure, his other half, the pillar of the family. When Nancy died that’s when things got bad. Their little Carol got on dope, then Joe left and never looked back. Robert hated to admit it but he couldn’t handle the kids without her, she was his rock. Back when they were starting out, even when things were at their lowest she never denied him either. Nancy would let him play in her soft folds as soon as the kids went down. Making sure he felt that all those 16-hour shifts were worth every second. These vines were like her; they were worth a damn.

Robert let go of the vines and stepped back to get a good look at them. They were far longer than he initially thought. Stretching down the full length of the vertical bluff of the mountain behind his home. Robert figured from eye balling it, that they must be at least 100 feet. With the root draped over the cliff side, he couldn’t see their start. So God only knew how large they really were. Robert racked his brain trying to think of what on earth these were called. He knew of them; they’ve grown all over place since before he was born. Always around where wild plants grew. Robert recalled someone telling him once, that the government introduced them to help the mountains fight off erosion. It was on the tip of his tongue.

“Kai, Ko, Kuu, what the fuck was that word? Ku Ku Kudzu, Kudzu, that’s it!” Robert practically shouted, he was excited for the first time in years. He felt it was the beginning of something. Seeing nothing else to do, Robert started back to the house where he kept his wallet and library card. Planning to use the chance to get his steps in and to go learn more about this strange vine which was strong and soft, and so reminded him of the woman he loved and lost.

The Library

The old town library was one of the few things about Robert’s life that never really changed for the worse or at all. It was as when he was a child. The same basic principles still applied now, exactly as they did in the 1960s. You take out a book or even a cassette, you enjoy it and bring it back. Pay a fee if you drag your feet too much. Though now instead of logging them in and out in a great big book like some medieval accountant, it was all electronic. He also enjoyed the quiet, the lack of any action outside of occasional books being shelved.

Robert walked in with the familiar chime of an electronic bell overhead. He saw a few people using the computers, and a young lady stationed at the counter that he thought was dressed like a witch. Robert wouldn’t have thought someone so unprofessional looking would be allowed to walk in the door, however, a name stag reading “My name is Rebeka how can I help you?” Proved him wrong.

“Hello young lady, I’m looking for a book on Kudzu, could ye help me?” Robert asked. As the girl, old enough to be his great granddaughter looked up from a screen.

“There’s our book database over there, you can search through our entire collection and have them delivered here.” She said, almost cheerful. Robert gave one glance towards the black machine and then back to the girl, ready to speak from the heart.

“I don’t want to use that, help me find a book on Kudzu.” Robert’s voice was monotone and implied that she was stupid for even suggesting that to him. The girl focused her full attention on Robert, who was now known as “old fart” in her mind. At first she wanted to just repeat what she said before but more firmly. However, one glance at the old man told her that she was going to either do it for him or get in trouble with her boss.

“Yes sir,” she said as she began to search from a computer at the front desk. Once she found something that looked like what he wanted. The girl walked around the desk and started towards the worldwide section of the library. Picking out a book titled:

“The Various plants of East Asia,” holding the book out for a surprised Robert to look over. He held it in an old, calloused hand. Examining the book as if it might have some mystical power he didn’t understand.

“What is this?” Robert asked.

“It’s the book about Asian plants,” she said.

“I want a book about Kudzu, this is a book about oriental nonsense,” Robert retorted raising his shaking old hand to point at the book for emphasis. Tapping the cover with a thick sausage finger that stunk of beer and dirt.

“Look sir, this all we have on Kudzu, you can look through the glossary in the book and find the section about it, also Kudzu is a Chinese plant,” the girl’s tone was tired, she had enough of old fart for at least a week. Robert suddenly felt embarrassed that he forgot Kudzu wasn’t native. He thought about it earlier, so why didn’t he remember? He felt his pride rearing again like a mighty old stallion.

“I know what I know,” Robert gruffed. “Where do I find a book that tells me how to grow it?” Robert asked, making the girl sigh.

“Dude listen, I am not in the right headspace to deal with… all of this,” her hands made wide circular motions towards Robert. “I’ll get you a book on gardening, however we’re a small-town library and we don’t have that many books on Asian plants. Take it or leave it.” She was straight forward. It reminded Robert of his Carol before she fell off the wagon.

“That’ll work miss,” he said as she guided him to the home and garden section.

The Oak Tree

Robert learned a lot from his trip to the library. Particularly on the history of Kudzu in the region, its physical properties, along with basic gardening. The more he learned the more he liked the plant and the more it reminded him of his late wife. Kudzu thrives best in temperate forests with decent amounts of rain. Robert was stunned when he learned that coast of eastern China and Japan were nearly identical to his old Kentucky home. Places so far away were identical to his backyard. It was essentially the perfect plant for this climate. If it could do much with so little, how much more could it grow with the help of a man?

Robert set out and began a routine of daily watering. Turning the dial on his garden hose to mist and spraying as high as his hose would go so as to coat the 100 feet of hanging vines. Taking all the love and care he had for his dead lawn and giving it to the Kudzu. It said in the book that Kudzu can grow up to a foot a day in the right conditions. Robert tested this over a few weeks and found it inaccurate. It can grow two feet if you properly take care of it. Robert’s love and care helped the vine grow even farther until it extended to the ground. One day he noticed the vine drooping into a bunched pile at the foot of the cliff. He felt sad at seeing something so tough lose to simple gravity.

“That just ain’t right… she don’t deserve that,” Robert didn’t catch himself saying it. But still, it stuck like a thrown axe into a hunk of wood. The vine was no longer prized as his new project, it was now closer to a dear pet. It was she and her at this point. He set out to help her at once. Robert worked the rest of the afternoon hammering little wooden stakes throughout the backyard, which he would wrap the vine around to keep it from laying directly on the earth. Giving her points to extend further. This combined with the consistent watering and some fertilizer he mixed in, allowed her to cover half the entire back yard. In just over a month.

The former barren wasteland was looking green again, at least in the back. Controlled by something tougher than fescue. It extended further and further every day. Robert worked hard to keep ahead, hammering new steaks, watering where needed, dowsing with fertilizer until she reached around the house and into the front yard. In two months, he had given life back to the dead land, he had something to be proud of. It was a reason for him to live again.

At times, Robert would just stay outside and watch the vines grow in real time. He’d kneel in the dirt and watch her creep towards him, around, past. Being able to notice length changes every hour. This became more common by the day. Soon she wasn’t just her, she was his lady, she was large and beautiful. On the third month, Robert saw her finally take the entire yard. And he felt guilty that her only seat was those pathetic little stakes, she deserved a throne to sit on. That was when Robert remembered his old grow oak tree. It controlled the side of his front property overlooking the road. The mighty tree had been there long before Robert was born or even when his town was founded.

He would’ve chopped it down had his Nancy not liked it… it only made sense that his new lady could desire it as well. Robert began tacking several iron nails into the base of the tree. Preparing it for his lady’s arrival. He made sure there were no other plants in her way, such as poison oak who also liked to creep on trees.
“Nothing will soil you me Lady,” Robert muttered as he chopped away any stray parasitic weeds while cleaning her new throne. Once it was properly fit, with a tired hand Robert took the closest of the vines. Gently unwrapping them from the stakes, he placed them at the foot of the old oak with the same love and care that he gave to his children when he put them to bed. Once the vines were ready. Robert began spraying them with a good mix of fertilizer.

“It’s all yours… take whatever you want my Lady.” Robert spoke quietly, so no one would hear him. Even though he was alone in the woods, with only an occasional car or side-by-side. It was precaution he felt he had to take. They wouldn’t understand how important this time was to them. As the vine was properly soaked. Robert felt himself tire and went inside to sleep the rest of the day away. When he woke, he groaned in pain, sore from hammering all those nails into the tree. He hoped he gave his lady enough of a start to at least be a creeping up the foot of the tree now. Walking through his front door, Robert gasped at what he saw.

“Holy s-“ he didn’t want to curse in front of her, it was disrespectful.

“Oh my, goodness.” Robert said instead. As the vines of his lady had grown over half the length of the tree and were firmly wrapped around its trunk. She had taken fully, only lacking the top branches. It frightened him at first, as nowhere in the book said Kudzu could grown several feet in one night. His did though… because he took care of her. His beautiful strong Lady Kudzu.

Over the next week the Vine seemed to grow faster by the day. Fast enough that Robert could see them having extended in as little as five minutes. It wasn’t long before his lady had completely swallowed the titanic oak. Strangling its upper limbs, covering its leaves with her own. Until nothing could be seen but a sea of soft green leaves. Robert stood under the shade of his lady’s tree, watering her, careful not step on the vines, even though there was less and less room to walk every time he saw them.

“There you go Lady, sit proud, it’s all yours,” after the tree was fully conquered. Robert didn’t know what he would do next, however he wasn’t satisfied. His lady was growing more and more by the day. She deserved more… he didn’t have the money to buy more land or the knowledge of what he could do to improve. All he had left was his own home. His lady only grew yet she seemed to stop just short of his porch. Somehow her growth didn’t extend beyond the edge of the house. She was considerate, he would have to invite her. Robert knew exactly why.

“A lady never demands,” it’s what his wife said decades before. Days passed with little rest for him. Robert tossed and turned in the dead moments of the night. When he tried to sleep, the guilt of depriving his lady ate at him like cancer. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t even use the bathroom. Robert couldn’t take it anymore. After three days of no rest or relief. Robert walked out to see his lady beginning that hung over the cliff, who covered everything he could see. The trees, the yard, the entire 100ft mountain bluff, it was all nothing but Kudzu, nothing but her. Robert kneeled and swallowed as he spoke.

“I want you to have my house… it’s yours, I’ll even leave if you want.” Robert hugged a stretch of vine and cried. For the first time since he was a boy, he cried and held her soft folds which so reminded him of Nancy. Once he was out of tears, he stood back up, expecting an answer though he didn’t receive one. A piece of the oak tree fell somewhere in the yard and startled him. He knew his lady was already taking the life of the tree… he was in her hands now. Robert went back inside and laid down to rest. He slept easy without guilty continence for the first time in days. Robert woke the next morning and saw his lady had taken the entire home that night. The roof, the front porch, even extending into two open windows she covered the walls, part of the floor, and grew even into his bedroom. Vines creeped over his bed as he slept. It was all Lady Kudzu now.

The Sorry Ghoul

Due to the change Robert had to make some new ones of his own. He could no longer simply walk around his lady to do his chores of watering her. The Kudzu was vast, green, and thickly sprawled over every inch of the property, with only the general shape of the house indicating that a man-made structure was even present. To compensate, Robert thought of a new method, apology, with every step he would say he was sorry. His lady’s soft leaves, he would regretfully step beneath his toes.

There were other changes as well. Her new size required more water and more fertilizer. She deserved it more than him, so Robert began to do without. All the walking destroyed his old shoes; even his washer quit from constantly cleaning dirt and fertilizer from his clothes. Robert ate less to pay for more for her. He was skinnier, his pot belly gone. His face was gaunt looking. His eyes bulged from his head with a blank devoted expression. Robert took to wearing only what would cover his privates to honor his Lady’s dignity.
He existed this way for months. A thin corpse like man that had become a local legend among teenagers.

Unknown to Robert, he was the “Sorry Ghoul,” who you could hear apologizing from the front of the abandoned house deep in the back woods. It was a story no one took seriously. So nobody bothered to check if Robert was even alive. This didn’t bother him though, he had his lady and that was all that mattered. However, like with all the things in Robert’s life, they were destined to end. One morning Robert opened his back screen door and brushed away his Lady’s vines which prevented any sunlight from seeping through. Apologizing as he did.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I only step as much as I have to, I’m sorry.” The quiet muttering of Robert continued as he trekked through the yard and reached his shed. His days were usually blended and numb, he could not tell you the date or time. They didn’t matter to him anymore; there was only her. At the same time as Robert began his daily duties, two young boys creeped over the mess of vines and silently came around the corner of the brick structure of Roberts house. Having parked their dirt bikes by a vine covered mailbox.

“Holy shit it’s him,” one of them whispered.

“Damn right, now cough up my twenty bucks,” the other boy chimed. The first boy watched in shock as what was surely a walking corpse moved through the mess of vines, repeatedly chanting how sorry it was while watering by its feet. As Robert walked, he noticed something concerning. Ahead, there was a dead patch of Kudzu by the shed which wasn’t there yesterday. His pure disbelief nearly killed him right there. Frantically Robert ran towards it, he got to his knees, kneeled, and cradled the dead leaves in his boney hands as if he had lost a child.

“Who did this? Who did this to you?” His breaths were small and frantic, his gaunt eyes scanned around until he saw two boys staring from a distance.

“Hey! Hey you! You did this to her, what did you do?” Robert screamed and began sprinting towards them, lunging his frail legs over his lady’s vines with unbelievable speed. The boys turned back, but he caught up to them quicker than they thought he could. As one rode away down the back road. The other struggled and pulled at his dirt bike as hard as he could. A thick mess of vines clung and matted in the wheels, keeping him trapped. Robert grabbed the boy by the arm before another boney hand gripped the child’s neck, his tone was murderous and accusing.

“What did you do to her? what did you do?” He questioned the frantic boy who nearly cried.

“Get off me you fucking psycho!” The boy punched the ghoul in the face, trying to get him off. Robert didn’t move or budge at the strike, his hard unblinking stare didn’t change as a drop of blood dribbled from his nose. This brat had defiled his lady. Robert’s thin hands both gripped around the boys throat with surprising strength and began wrestling him to the ground. A boney knee on his sternum to pin him. Already abandoned by his friend, it was just him and Robert the ghoul. Who leered over as he strangled the boy, his windpipe was as tight as the eye of a needle, he would die soon.

Robert had every intention of murdering the boy… before he could kill him however, Robert suddenly stopped when he felt a chill. A small breeze which should have been relieving was not. It was a biting; it was a nip of winter. Robert’s grip eased and he let the boy go, who ran, leaving his bike behind he wheezed as his tattered sneakers carried him down the empty back road. Robert knew it wasn’t the boy that had hurt her, it was the weather. He realized then that it was probably now September, fall was here, soon his lady would die.

Winters coming

Robert reread the book he kept about Kudzu. Kudzu isn’t an evergreen plant; it would survive but all the vines would die during the fall. He couldn’t allow it after all this work, he would not lose everything again. Robert put on a filthy pair of clothes and then went out to save his lady. Back at the library he wasn’t recognized by the girl from before, he didn’t acknowledge her, nor she him. Assuming he was a random drug addict. Finding a book on greenhouses, Robert quickly left without checking it out. Reading on how to build his lady’s sanctuary, then it was onto the dump. Taking what he could from the trash and stealing what he lacked where he could; Robert began to gather materials. In a week he had a pile of wood, nails, clear plastic sheeting and the will to do whatever it takes.

The building started off well despite the cold becoming more frequent. Robert knew he had to be quick, efficient, he had to at least be done before Halloween, which was weeks away now. The initial structure wasn’t hard to figure. He couldn’t do as big as he wanted because of the strain on resources, he hoped and prayed his lady would not be disappointed. Robert set up the initial foundation of wood and nails together into something that reminded him of a barn, all within just under a week. Having to take frequent breaks to keep up with the work. Robert began to feel his age as he pushed his health over the coming weeks. His devotion was absolute, his body though, just wasn’t what it used to be. After two weeks, in one searing moment, his foot slipped and his thin arms hung on a latter, his breathing was ragged. Sweat covered his scrawny, starved, naked form.

“I… I can’t… oh god… I… it will kill me if I keep going…” Robert climbed down just enough to collapse on the Kudzu covered ground, curling into the fetal position in a mess of vines for support. The dirt was cold, just like the days were now. His lady was dying in several spots. Brown and yellow were spotting just like with his lawn. He was ready to close his eyes and meet his denied God right there. If it wasn’t for something gleaming just a few feet away.

Robert didn’t recognize it. It was something new and it smelled sweet. Robert’s nose pulled him, on boney elbows he crawled towards it. A vine coming down from his house held a yellow ball, colored clear in honey sparkle. It was a solid orb of some kind of jelly. Pouting his lips out, Robert took it into his mouth, severing it from a budding vine he began to chew. It had the consistency of a large white grape and it splattered sweet juices into his mouth. It tasted like every berry he loved at the same time.

Robert chewed and swallowed, feeling a sudden burst of energy. He was able to stand then. The message was clear. His lady approved his plan, she wanted him to keep going. Robert used his newfound energy to build in earnest, having all the clear plastic siding and windows ready just a few days before Halloween. The strange honey sparkle orbs becoming his only nourishment, he had done it. Now all he had left was the task of transporting his lady’s heart and all her remaining length into the green house.

The Heart of a Woman

On the eve of Halloween, it was very cold, the air nipped, and his breath steamed in the air. Robert had set out to complete this herculean task and was being overseen by old man winter himself. He first noticed the quiet, as the forest which surrounded his home lacked its usual chirping of songbirds. Even the ones who hung late in the year had either deserted or conserved their energy by remaining quiet. Most of his lady had died with the forest, which brought a tear down his sunken face.

The ground was barren, littered with dried leaves and dead brown lengths of vine that reminded him of corroded copper wiring. His eyes found the old oak tree, which was now firmly dead. Its wood dried and hollow, smothered too long. The vines which constricted it still encased the mass in a shriveled cage. It was a husk, a natural corpse; a wooden structure with leafless limbs that arched out like lightning bolts in the sky. Robert sniffled, it was a painful sight, to see his lady so weak. Compared to her former strength. He had to save what was left of her right now. As he stood at the base of the newly constructed greenhouse, his gaunt eyes looked up 100 feet towards the cliff edge, where he knew her heart to be. The book told him that Kudzu plants all had a main root that could sometimes reach several yards and could weigh over a 100 pounds.

“I’ll see you soon my Lady,” he whispered, quiet as the dead woods and so tired he could die. Trekking over the yards of his dying lady, Robert got to see more of her than he ever had prior. The old path up the mountain was surrounded by more dead Kudzu than even his home. Every tree, rock, and square foot of space had her touch. She had killed everything around them. Her power was absolute and it made him respect her more. The trail itself, strangely, was devoid of vine. Bald, barren, it was frosted dirt that painfully bit at the bottoms of Robert’s exposed feet. She had left this space for him.

It was tough on his body, however he was persistent. He reached the top of the cliff in only an hour. His brown eyes peered over the edge and looked on at miles and miles of small amounts of orange and mostly brown woods. He couldn’t help but smile at it all, thinking on when spring comes. How beautiful it would all look with her soft feminine touch. Robert followed the dead vines with his eyes, seeing some leaves right before he came upon the heart of his lady. Which sat some few yards from the cliff edge.

“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined.” Robert nearly dropped to his knees, he couldn’t believe he was seeing her heart. He had never felt more love for anything in life. A bulbous mass of thick dirt colored root. The top was covered in the last of the living leaves. More had dug deeper into the ground however what Robert could see was easily the size of a car. A mess of thick vines bored into the earth. Any rational reason as to how he could get this massive root down the mountain had no place in his thoughts.

As he was overwhelmed with love, he felt a rush and a need to touch his lady right now. Stepping closer, he raised an outstretched hand and placed it on the side of the massive root. Feeling a burst of euphoria better than any sexual encounter or drug he could think of trying. Robert bent forward and took the mass of still living vine and began wrapping it around himself. Kissing and groaning.

“I love you so much… I love you… do you love me?” Robert asked. Placing his lips against a living stretch of vine wrapped around the main root. Robert suddenly felt a prick at his bottom lip and pulled back. Feeling blood rush down his chest. His lip had been cut, by none other other than a thorn. Robert recalled then that Kudzu didn’t naturally have thorns. It was like the fruit, she had to have made it. Kudzu did not naturally have anything aside from vines and main roots. Like before with the fruit, she made a thorn… what was she trying to say to him? That she didn’t love him?

“What… what? My Lady? What did you do?” His gaunt face dropped in horror as looked deeply into the mass. He saw that his lady’s heart was covered in layers of razor sharp thorns that only got thicker the deeper her looked. To his horror, the lady he loved will all his soul, had a heart which was unobtainable, encased in a cage of impenetrable thorns that no man could ever hope to touch. She had led him here, built a path, pushed him to build her salvation, and in that moment. Robert realized that it was all for nothing. Was she just playing with him? Blood continued to flow as the shock pulled at him.

“How could you? You don’t love me?” Robert pulled at the vines he had tangled around his body and found them strongly bonded. He pulled and felt panic taking him as his feet kicked, trying to break the bonds. He couldn’t budge them; it only seemed to get tighter and tighter. Until he lost balance and stumbled to land on his back in the dirt.

“Let me go! Let me go you bitch!” Robert shouted at the top of his lungs, angry and betrayed. A final betrayal after a lifetime of them. He could feel the vines seeming to poke and jab at him all over. As if she were stabbing him.

“You’ll kill me! You’ll kill me my Lady!” Robert cried and thrashed with blood and vigor until he tumbled near the edge of the cliff. Knocking some pebbles over the edge, dropping a hundred feet below. The cold had been fully replaced now with searing red-hot pain as Roberts body was covered in red streaks of blood with scratches and marks from his thrashing. His throat quickly becoming hoarse from his pleas.

“My Lady please! I love you!” Robert finally wriggled too much and started to fall over the edge. His body was weightless. And in his final moments just before the vines wrapped around his neck went taunt. He saw his life, his wife, his children, and his Lady Kudzu. Robert hoped his son was doing well and he hoped his daughter would get off heroin. It was his last thought, as the vines held at his neck with a loud crack that nobody heard. Lady Kudzu will sleep for now, until spring. She will dream, as she does every year, of killing more of the forest, and smothering the land in her embrace. Her heart obtainable for no one.

Credit: Bryan Holly