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eBook Category: Alternate History/Fantasy
eBook Description: It's a very different USA, where necessity has provoked a very profound change in technology. And yet many things are still the same. Being a teenager is always tough, and there are many choices ahead. One of which is "how and where do you grow your very first car?"

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Analog, 2002
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2002

41 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [48 KB], eReader (PDB) [22 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [8 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [9 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [61 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [79 KB], hiebook (KML) [53 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [39 KB], iSilo (PDB) [7 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [10 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [37 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [16 KB]
Words: 2568
Reading time: 7-10 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Tangent Online Webmaster Tobias S. Buckell has a story in this month's Analog, and I'm impressed. Not because it's a good story--it is, but I've seen him be good before. Not because he's in Analog--that's where a Campbell Award nominee like Toby ought to be seen. No, I'm impressed because Buckell somehow snuck a fantasy past Dr. Schmidt into these pages. "A Green Thumb" is a nice Silver Age story about a teen-age boy, his dad, and technology. The tension in the parent-child relationship is taut in a very modern way, but the fantastic element hinges on the technology--plant-centered, as one might think from the title. Buckell gives us a couple of throwaway lines of frightening alternate history (Hitler died of cancer in the 1970's, for example), then uses that to lightly sketch the technology. In the sense that the technology is fantastic, improbable and unexplained, it's fantasy--of the contemporary suburban variety, and a nice, crisp story ready for harvest."--Jay Lake, Tangent Online (Learn more about Tangent Online, the Internet's leading SF&F short fiction review website)

When Jerry walked out across his lawn to catch the morning bus to Effendale High, he stopped to admire the new car Mr. Atkinson had growing in his lawn. Jerry could see the doors stretching up towards the roof, small branches of metal trying to reach their stringy edges up and around the rough frame. It looked like a regular car had melted, but in reverse. Every day Jerry stepped out, he could see more of the car's gray paneling filling in around the rough frame. Mr. Atkinson tended towards planting larger luxury cars, like any other retired old man. The half-finished Cadillac sat in between the rose bushes and posies that Mrs. Atkinson cared for. Both car and bushes glinted with a fresh coating of morning dew.

Jerry looked at the Caddy and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. There was no way in hell he would get on the bus with tears. Dad had flat out told him "no" before, and this morning's argument certainly didn't change his opinion.

Damnit, he was old enough to grow his own car. Maturity. Jerry bet he could do a better job than Mr. Atkinson.

The large yellow school-grown bus rolled around the corner, and Jerry hurried out to the sidewalk.

No matter. He had other plans.

Kids wandered through the halls and corridors, and Effendale echoed with adolescent energy. Jerry pushed through, finding his own particular group of familiars. Andy and Nathan looked up from an intense debate on cafeteria lunch. Hamburger, or hockeypuck. No one could present evidence on either side.

"Jer-ay! What's up?" Andy grinned. He did it perpetually. Sometimes it got annoying, but this morning Jerry found himself picking up a little.

"Nothing much."

"Watch out for Government," Nathan added. "Rumor has it Mrs. Newfield's going to lay down a pop quiz."

Andy looked at him wide eyed.

"Shit. A quiz? I haven't studied. I gotta run." He abruptly weaved off to go and look for someone, anyone, with the appropriate notes.

Nathan waited for a second. Then, "Did you ask your dad?"

"He said no. Again. At this rate I'll probably end up a senior on the bus." Nathan grimaced. Jerry waited expectantly.

"Well. I told you he would. I have it with me." As Jerry hoped. He looked at Nathan's worn-out denim bag.

"Really?"

"Really." Nathan reached into his bag. "It's not the greatest seed, but it should be all right if you play real close attention to the growing and prune the bad sections."

Jerry reached for the packet, but Nathan pulled it back.

"Money?" He asked. Jerry handed him a wad of bills. Everything he had in savings. Nathan handed it over, and Jerry flipped the small packet across his fingers. A small sub-compact with a hatchback glittered on the decal.

"Wow," said someone from behind. Jerry froze. Allison. He felt tunnel vision fall into place, and the usual vague sense of panic. "Is that a car-seed?"

"Um..." Jerry began.

"Of course it is," Nathan said. "Jerry stepping up." He put a proprietary arm on Jerry's shoulder. "He already has his temps. Once he grows this car he'll be able to take people all sorts of cool places."

"Yeah," Jerry said. "I'm trying to grow a car."

And that was pretty much it for conversation. The three of them stood there for a minute looking for something to say.

"Well, I'm going to go study for the Government pop quiz. See you around." She bobbed off.

"She wants you," Nathan said.

"Dude, shut up," Jerry felt his face flush.

"Have you asked her out to the dance?"

"Uh ... no." Jerry played with the zipper on his bag.

"You should. Where are you growing the car?"

"Far enough away that Dad won't find it."

"Always a good idea," Nathan said.