"Put that out dad, it's terrible for your health," said a young woman with light hair, holding a small child. Everett put the cigar out on a brick laying next to him and placed it discreetly in his breast pocket. Everett, his daughter, and his grandson, Andrew, were sitting on the roof of Thallow Flats.
Belinda put Andrew down and he ran over, his little face pressed up against the cages holding all the pigeons. The three had decided that on this unusually warm day, they would enjoy the roof. Down below, the streets were stirring as most had decided to take advantage of the warm day as Everett and his daughter had. She and her son had been visiting for a couple of days now and Everett couldn't have been happier. Andrew ran over to Everett sitting in the lawn chair and placed his hands on Everett's knees.
All of a sudden, the building shook violently. It seemed like an earthquake until the noise caught up with the vibrations. Instinctively, Everett leaned over and covered Andrew's head. Belinda screamed and fell to her knees. Everett noticed that the explosion came from the lot next door. After a few seconds, he looked up and saw the dirt, ash, and fine jewelry spilling onto the roof.
"We need to get to a lower floor. Let's hurry," Everett said brusquely. Belinda quickly picked up Andrew and the three headed down the stairs and out the front door.
There was a crowd forming around the entrance to the lot. Karen and Jimmy were standing at the entrance to the lot. Jimmy bent down and picked up a fancy necklace and put it around his neck. Karen ordered him to take it off.
As the dust cleared, it seemed every occupant of Thallow Flats was standing, waiting for some kind of explanation. The next moment Eros emerged bejewled. He screamed.



Thallow Flats returned to order. While the police had ordered that no one was to touch the jewelry, inevitably, everyone returned to their apartments with thick pockets. Mr. Wok took days taking inventory of damage to the building, which there was none. Roots had an upsurge in business, selling a post-trauma anti-anxiety root remedy. And lastly, Everett spent the next week spending time with his daughter and grandson.

Everett had spent the entirety of his morning running his usual errands: the diner, the post office, the pharmacy. He ran into many of his fellow inhabitants of Thallow Flats and it had occurred to him after he saw the young teenage girl and that Roots fellow that he was of an entirely different generation. He was no longer as immersed in the current culture that he lived in but in an extension of another culture. He was open but he would never quite understand the practice of healing roots or fortune telling functioning in his everday life. Hands in his pockets, Everett laughed to himself thinking that he was just as angsty as most of the young people he lived with.
Once he had returned to his apartment, Everett remember that it was the night of the poker game. He sat down in one of his leather chairs to rest before the game and realized that he was far more tired than he had realized. Deciding not to go to the poker game he went to bed instead.
He quickly fell asleep but the night was filled with dreams and he woke up multiple times, disoriented and dazed. One of the most vivid dreams he had had was one that he had quite often. In the dream he would wake up, believing it to be an average day only to find that Connie, his Iguana was dead. In the dream, he never knew what to do next and always felt overcome with grief. Once Everett was awake he felt heavy and dazed. It was later than he usually woke up which was strange as he had always been an early riser. Drinking his coffee, he read parts of the newspaper but simply couldn't focus.
After pondering over his dream from the night before, Everett walked over to visit Connie only to find that she had died. Stunned, Everett went and got a shoe box, placed Connie inside, wrote her name on the top of it. He slowly left his apartment and went to knock on Artie's door. She answered the door mid-laugh but looking down at the box, her expression changed.
"Oh no. Did it happen last night?" Artie asked, wrinkling her nose and forehead.
"It did. I just thought you might want to pay your respects seeing as the two of you were friends." Everett looked somber but what was different from the dream was that he wasn't so paralyzed with sadness. He was sad of course, but no more than any person would be about losing a pet reptile.
Letting out a sigh Artie said, "So where are you going to have the service?"
"What?"
"The service. You have to have some kind of ceremony. Let's bury her in the vacant lot. We'll say a few words. Have you never lost a pet?! You have to have closure!" Everett nodded in agreement and the two headed downstairs together. Outside, it was a gorgeous day but very cold. Everett and Artie went to the community garden to borrow a shovel and headed back to the vacant lot. They chose a spot in the corner which was unpaved. Everett took the shovel and started digging.
When Everett was almost ready to put the shoebox in the hole, Eros walked past the lot and did a double take. His eyes wide, he walked towards Artie and Everett looking puzzled and anxious.
"Digging for treasure?" Eros asked trying not to look so uneasy.
"Everett's iguana, Connie passed last night. We're holding a service." Artie said matter-of-factly.
"Well then I guess I should pay my respects as well," said Eros, his expression looking serious.
Once they had put the shoe box in the ground the three stood over it. Artie said a few things about Connie's dazzling personality and good looks and the two men nodded occassionally. Once it became too cold for anyone to bear, the three left together to return to Thallow Flats.

Everett tentatively pushed open the door. He stepped in the door, looked around, and wondered if there was some proper etiquette for a Root Emporium. A man behind the counter looked up at him, seemingly shocked by the presence of another in his store. He practically leapt from his chair to greet Everett.
"Roots! Welcome! Can I help you, what's your name?" the man said making wild gestures with his arms.
"Ah, Everett's my name. Just wandered in...out of curiosity I guess," Everett replied, carefully shaking his hand. "I uh, I don't think I caught your name."
"Roots."
No, your name."
"Yes, confusing I know. Roots is my name." Everett looked puzzled and nodded.
"So, do you have anything in mind?" the man said, continuing his bizarre, jittery movements.
"No, no roots for me please. I really just wanted to familiarize myself with some of the additions to the neighborhood." In his hands, Everett had a container of cous cous from Ya-ya's and Madame Fouquois' business card. On this particular afternoon, having read the entire newspaper and completed all the crossword puzzles inside his apartment, he decided to go browse the root shop for some variety. Everywhere he went, the people were friendlier and far more open than he expected. All and all he felt it was a successful afternoon.
As Roots chatted with Everett about his interests and any ailments of his, Roots gave him something brown for his achey joints and sent him on his way.
"Yes, I promise, I will come straight to you for all of my roots needs." Everett left the shop, smiling, glad he had ventured from his usual stops in town.
Returning to his apartment, he opened his mail box and inside was a thick envelope. He opened it on the spot. It was a bound copy of one of his manuscripts from the publishing company he'd sent it to. He chuckled out loud and trotted up the stairs.