The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [2]
"Wouldn't you want to spend more time with your mother if she only had a year to live?" asked Mrs. Nelson in a voice dripping in self-pity.
I squirmed nervously in my chair. "Yeah, I would," I replied weakly, and nodded my head.
"I've even asked him to help with my will, but he doesn't care about that either. Says I should just sell this house and all the land around it. Acts like he hates it out here."
There was a long pause that signaled my turn to say something. "Maybe he just likes living in town. My mom always wishes she did." It was the most profound thing I could think of.
"Tommy's father would roll over in his grave if he heard that. He moved us out here to get away from the city. Planted that orchard in front because he wanted to act like a farmer. It almost kills me to look at it now in a shambles."
Between Mrs. Nelson's house and the road was an apple orchard that had been abandoned since Mr. Nelson had died. Since as far back as I could remember, it had been a part of my landscape, but mostly off-limits according to my mom.
Mrs. Nelson sat up straighter in her chair, and her voice got a little higher. "Oh, he loved being in that orchard. He always said there was something about being close to the earth that was spiritual and primal. I always loved those blossoms breaking out in the spring. I'm always begging Tommy to get it going again, put some water on the trees at least."
I kept nodding my head and trying to seem interested.
"You know, when Tommy was about your age, his father tried to get him to help out with those trees, but he was always happier doing something else, anything else." She shook her head. "How old are you now, Jackson? Fourteen, fifteen?"
"I'll be fourteen in a few weeks," I mumbled.
"In a lot of ways, you remind me more of my husband than Tommy does. The way you always like to be outside and working with your hands."
I gave her a halfhearted grin to acknowledge the compliment. Being outside all the time was mostly due to my mother's policy on not overcrowding the house rather than a conscious personal choice. As for working with my hands, Mrs. Nelson was probably referring to all her yard work she had cornered me into doing. She looked above my head like she was trying to see something off in the distance. Then she began talking quietly to herself as if I weren't in the room.
"I just hate to see it neglected like that. It breaks my heart to think that Tommy would just dig up those trees. Probably put a trailer park over it or something. Serve him right if I gave it to someone who'd keep it up." All of a sudden she lowered her eyes and stared me into blushing. "How about you? How'd you like that orchard?"
"Uh ... m-me? What would I do with it?"
"Raise apples, of course. That's the whole point. If you do it right, you can make plenty of money too."
That last part caught my attention, and I sat up a little straighter. "But why me? I don't know anything about apples."
"I just need someone willing to learn. Someone who can prove they'll take care of the place when I'm gone."
"How would I prove that?"
Mrs. Nelson leaned back like she was thinking. "You could work on it this year and give me a chance to examine the results. Then I'll decide."
The idea of her giving me the orchard sounded pretty meaningless to thirteen-year-old ears. Why would I want the thing? The interesting part in what she was saying was the possibility of making some money. "What about the money, if, you know, there were some apples that were sold?"
Mrs. Nelson got a distasteful look on her face. "Money. Well, yes, I guess you could have some of the money, depending on what kind of job you did. The same kind of arrangement we make when you work in my yard."
My heart sunk. The "arrangement" we had with her yard was that she would promise me $5 for something that supposedly took only a couple of hours. After an entire Saturday of breaking my back for her, she'd hand me a dollar bill and say my work wasn't up to $5 standards. Once she even sent me home without