and bore attractive solitary flowers with a purple bell-shaped corolla. It grew lushly in the loose forest loam and dappled sunlight of the clearing, and it was only after he straightened up from his examination that Grover realized that he was standing beneath the oak limb where the unfortunate student had hanged himself.
In some agitation, Grover hurried back to his house and began to search through his various reference works. While he was a fair amateur botanist, he was a noted medieval scholar, and it required only a short time to interface legend with scientific observation.
The mystery plant was clearly a mandrake— Mandragora officinarum— found in southern Europe and northern Africa, not to be confused with the May apple, native to the United States and also called mandrake. No matter: exotic plants often adapted to other climes, and this could easily be a stray from the university’s botanical gardens or someone’s flower bed.
On the other hand—and this fascinated Grover—according to legend, mandrake was commonly found beneath a gallows—supposedly grown from a hanged man’s final ejaculation as the rope wrenched out his breath. A plant spawned of the earth and a dead man’s seed. A plant whose root was shaped like a human—legs, torso, arms, its head hidden beneath its foliage. A plant said to hold all manner of magical properties. A plant that uttered a human-like scream when pulled from the earth.
A deafening scream that brought stark madness and death to those who heard its cry.
Darren Grover paged through his books throughout the evening, learning more. Formulating a plan.
It took rather less time than Grover had anticipated. The workers at the local animal shelter were curious as to why Grover wished to adopt a deaf dog. Grover explained that his recently deceased dog had grown deaf during its final years, and that this was a blessing of sorts in that the dog then no longer barked at every odd noise. This kept the neighbors from making complaints and made for a more pleasant companion. Besides, he had grieved so over his pet’s passing that he wanted a dog of familiar habits and behavior to replace that loss.
The animal control officers had been prepared to put down the aged bulldog immediately after she was brought to them, but someone remembered the eccentric professor and phoned him. And so Grover acquired a deaf dog.
Her name was Precious, and she was a white English bulldog. Her elderly owners were moving to a retirement condo in Florida (no pets or children allowed), and they had tearfully left her for adoption, not realizing that euthanasia was the usual policy of the local APS. Grover prided himself on her rescue from her politically correct executioners.
Although aged and deaf, Precious retained the ungainly strength of her breed, and the years seemed only to have increased an already voracious appetite. Grover found that his new pet would readily eat anything he offered her, from expensive dogfood to leftovers of any sort. Beef bones or boiled carrots—their fate was certain once dumped in to her bowl. Precious quickly took to her new master and made it a point of honor that the cushions of his favorite chair should not grow cold during his absences. When not eating, the dog usually plopped down and slept close to where her master might be. Grover formed the opinion that Precious’s snoring was the cause of her deafness.
More to the point, the bulldog was incredibly strong. On their walks, Grover was virtually dragged along by the panting bulldog as she strained at her leash. Grover was by no means a small man. Once again, fate seemed to have provided him with the proper tool.
And on one moonlit night...
Darren Grover had already soaked the earth about the mandrake. Gingerly he made fast a nylon cord to the base of the plant, scraping away as much loam as he dared. He had not fed Precious all day, and this bothered his conscience.
The bulldog regarded him with curiosity, as he fastened the nylon cord to her leash. Was she meant to stay here? Then why had Master placed her food dish several feet out of reach? That mixture of barbecued chicken and cat food—her very favorites—smelled awfully good. Precious barked loudly as her careless master hurried away. Perhaps he also was growing deaf?
Well, clearly the food was intended for Precious. She dug in her stubby legs, hunched her massive shoulders, and kicked some eighty-five pounds of bulldog into gear. At first there was some resistance. Paws