Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope

Elias lowered the plant slowly into the center of the wide hole I had just dug.

I used the flat side of my trowel to push the loose earth back around the base of the thorny stems.

The wet soil smelled faintly of crushed pine needles and standing water.

The damp dirt felt cold and heavy against my bare fingers.

I set the trowel aside in the grass and used my flat palms to press the fresh dirt down firmly.

I packed the wet soil as tight as I could to get rid of any pockets of air around the roots.