“If we plant them deep enough.”

Benji tore open the edge of the packet with his fingers and shook six black-and-white-striped seeds into his open palm.

He looked down at them, his eyes wide in the bright light.

“How deep do they have to go?” he asked.

Clay knelt beside him and picked up a smooth wooden dibble stick from the grass.

“Make a little hole with your finger, buddy.

About two inches deep.”