Asarum Comes to Summer

One crisp April day, the mailman came striding his usual route in the small town of Summer. He deposited a bundle of letters along with two small parcels at the little home of Ned and Ursula Anderson. As he disappeared around a corner, the smaller of the two packages shook slightly in the darkness of the mailbox.

A faint glow emerged from the parcel’s upper corner, accompanied by a light scraping. At last a little finger poked through the box. The finger pulled and poked until a tiny hand emerged. The hand, in turn, ripped the wall open wide enough for a small head of curly brown hair to thrust out. Squirming and kicking, the rest of the body emerged. Asarum stepped out of the package and stood there sneezing for a few moments in his brown shirt and green leggings. He flexed his wings open and closed and then made a little somersault in the air. He dug back into the package to retrieve a small knapsack and a little flute. Then he set to work tap-tap-tapping against the mailbox door until it swung open.

Slowly, Asarum poked his head out to survey the surroundings. Where was everyone? His cousins were supposed to meet him! He ducked his head back into the mailbox to check the address on the package: Ned and Ursula Anderson, 684 Green Avenue, Town of Summer.

Yes, that was the address his parents had given him. He looked around again. This time, Asarum noticed a mossy patch under some shrubs near the home. He took a deep breath, then flew quick as he could from the mailbox to the moss, landing a little roughly due to the unaccustomed weight of the backpack. He burrowed far underneath the shrubs to a cozy wind-sheltered cubby. Just in time! An old woman came briskly out of the house to collect the mail. She let out a little note of joy upon seeing the larger package, then shook the smaller one with a look of confusion.

“Ned, our seeds came today!” she exclaimed as she re-entered the house. What did this mean? How could seeds arrive in a package? Asarum’s family always gathered them off the forest floor.

He set down his backpack and flute and was about to zip up to the window to see if he could investigate further, when he noticed a rusty, miniature version of the Big People’s mailbox. It sat tucked next to a little blue doorway that had been hidden from his view by the angle of the shrubs. Asarum jumped up to open the box. Inside a letter bore his name. He tore it open to read. “Dear Cousin, so sorry we have been delayed for a day. Please make yourself at home. We can’t wait to meet you! Love, Dicentra, Levisticum, and Nymphaea.”