CHAPTER 14

Clare and Dante

As February drew to a close, Clare and Dante spoke often of the arrival of spring. The onion seeds had sprouted exactly ten days after being planted and were greening up nicely. Dante hoped (and not at all secretly) that the sprouts would reach ten centimeters before they could be transplanted so that he could snip them back to seven centimeters. For some reason, the idea of giving the onions a haircut had rattled his funny bone. He had even been inspired to draw a goofy face on the pot so that the sprouts resembled green hair growing straight up. There was nothing he wanted more than to give “Onion Bob,” as he had nicknamed their pot, a flat top.

But even though the children were ready and eager for the warmth of spring, the weather did not comply. The days remained overcast and cold, and it seemed like it might yet snow. Not that the children hadn’t enjoyed the snow. It had been wonderful. They’d had snow back home in the winter, but not as much as here. And having been confined to life in the city, they hadn’t had the opportunity to enjoy it in quite the same ways. This year, many weekends had been spent sledding and building snow forts with other children in the area. It was a peaceful time after the busy fall and long journey.

In class they were learning about plant disease and weeds. Clare was very interested in this, and the teacher made it fun by bringing in samples. The students worked in groups, using their mini-Monitors and books to determine the disease or identify the weed. Even Dante had actively taken part. On the third day of the unit, the lesson was on edible weeds.

“You may recall,” the instructor,Tom, said, “that in the introduction we had a definition for weed. Who can remind the class of the definition?”

Clare raised her hand.

“Clare?”

“A weed is a plant that is unwanted where it is growing. It is often aggressive and sometimes dangerous. Weeds are a problem when they compete with the crops we have planted.”

“Very good, Clare.”

He scanned his audience. “Today we are going to think about when a weed isn’t a weed … so much.”

Dante laughed. “When a weed is not a weed,” he repeated. Clare elbowed him.

“So, when,” Tom asked, “is a weed not a weed?”
Minnie’s hand shot up. He ignored it and kept talking; it was a rhetorical question.

“What if it isn’t harming anything and can be used for food? Thomas Fuller once said, ‘Many things grow in the garden that were never sown there.’ What if you didn’t have the opportunity to plant a garden, and you were hungry and had no food? If you could find a weed growing somewhere and were able to identify it as good for food, wouldn’t that be great? Would you dare give it the unsavory moniker of weed?”

“Moniker,” Dante giggled.

Clare’s mind had wandered. That phrase “good for food;” wasn’t that in the Bible passage Ana had them read back when all this had started? She found herself daydreaming about those early days—nearly a year ago—when she first found out about seeds and growing food. Dante’s silliness brought her back to the present.

“ … so although you learned the names of many so-called weeds in the last class, before you move on with how to remove or, gasp, kill them, I’m here to tell you why you might want to let them live. Which ones you might actually want to eat.”

The wall-sized Monitor at the front of the class shimmered and the first slide took shape, forming the title of the presentation: Edible Weeds.

Again, Clare drifted back—back to the first time Ana had told the children that food came from plants, how shocked they were at the discovery people once ate the stems, leaves, even roots of plants. Eating weeds didn’t seem all that outlandish in this context. If a weed was just a displaced plant and not hurting anyone, it was still a plant, after all, and fair game for food.

Despite her internal reasoning, however, she joined the class in an astonished and collective gasp as the next slide took shape: dandelions!

“That’s right. If you’ve been here long, I’m sure you have already spent a lot of time plucking these from your host’s yard or garden; probably you’ve even seen them back home. Dandelions—the scourge of many a lawn perfectionist—are a wonderful vitamin-packed edible weed. The leaves can be added to your salad greens and the bright yellow flowers brewed into wine. Anyone heard of the twentieth century novel, Dandelion Wine?” A few hands raised.

Dante turned to Clare and mouthed “dan-de-li-ons,” his eyes round with pleasure and delight. 

Tom clicked the control.

“Ooh,” a murmur of admiration swept through the room as bright, pink flowers on rich, green leaves filled the screen. 

“Red clover. Both the flowers and the leaves can be eaten in salad. The flowers can also be steeped in hot water to make tea. Any of you ever pluck the petals out one by one and bite off the white sugary ends?” Silence. “Not even as kids?” Everyone looked around, hoping to see that just one person in the crowded classroom had known about this. “Pity.”

The next slide was wild garlic, then sorrel, watercress, chickweed (which gave Dante the giggles again), purslane … Tom spoke briefly about each and reminded the class that more information was available in the folder marked “edible weeds” in their mini-Monitors. 

“And now,” Tom said, when the slideshow had ended, “we will head on out for some hands-on experience. It’s early in the year, but I think you will be surprised at how many specimens you will find growing. I suggest someone in each group pack along a mini-Mon to practice identification.”

It was cold, but Tom was right; Clare and Dante were surprised, yet pleased, at how many weeds were already flourishing on the edges of the raised beds where the compost or cover crop hadn’t reached; dandelions gleamed even between stones in the walkways.

“Hey, wait up!”

Clare turned, recognizing the familiar voice. “Jason, hi. I didn’t think you were here today.” 

“Came in late. Had to sit in the back with the Guardian Veterans.” 

Veterans, that’s how they referred to the Guardians who were long-term. Some had even been refugees, like them, who had decided not to go back. A lot of the trainees often discussed this among themselves—the idea of staying on in Canada; many of them didn’t agree. They believed that those who slipped over the border and received the free gardening education owed it to their country to return home and work to make things better.

“Who are you?” Dante asked.

“Name’s Jason.”

“I’m Dante.”

Jason smiled. “Nice to meet you, Dante. Clare and I pruned blueberry bushes together a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ohhh.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“It’s okay with me,” Dante said at the same time as Clare was saying, “Sure, as far as I know there were no instructions—” Jason laughed as their words fell and stumbled into each other.

“Good,” he said.

Dante ran ahead, pointing and calling out every green patch he encountered. The two teenagers, meanwhile, crawled along, deep in conversation that hadn’t anything to do with weeds.

“Come on you guys!”

“Wait, Dante.”

He pulled the Monitor out of Clare’s hand and began flipping through the photos. “Aha! Chickweed! Look at this.” He pointed to the photo and back at the plant with the tiny pointed leaves and white flowers.

Clare and Jason stopped talking and looked from the Monitor to the plant near where Dante squatted.

“Wow, good job,” Jason said. He turned to Clare, “And here I thought you were so smart. Maybe your brother’s been doing your homework for you.” He winked at Clare, but Dante missed it.