The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [58]
I picked one green apple and one red apple and put them in a paper sack. I spent a whole hour walking the orchard to find the biggest ones we had. After Sunday school, I took my sack up to the front and displayed the apples to Brother Brown.
"Could you take a look at these?" I began. "Couple of average apples from our trees."
Brother Brown looked down at them. "Where are the stems?" he asked abruptly.
"The stems?" I replied in surprise. "I guess still on the tree. I just pulled these off."
"You never pick an apple without the stem. Goes bad faster," he said gruffly.
I blushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
He grunted in return.
"Can you tell me what kind of apples they are?" I asked, trying to move beyond discussing stems.
He looked at me in disbelief. I turned even redder. "Golden Delicious," he said, pointing at the green apple, and "Roman Beauty," pointing at the red.
"Roman Beauty," I repeated. "I've never heard of those."
Brother Brown gave another little grunt as if to say he wasn't surprised.
"So, are they ready for picking?" I asked eagerly.
"Nope," he said without hesitation.
"Will you tell me when we can start, then?"
"Yeah, I'll let you know."
That was the end of our conversation, but for the rest of the week, I wished I would have asked him to call or something when it was time. There was only a week left before school started, and it was torture to just sit around during the day. I practiced wearing the picking bag and climbing the ladder to reach the highest apples. We also kept up the watering and spraying, although I figured those activities would be abandoned once we started picking.
***
Brother Brown didn't say anything the next Sunday, and we started back to school without having sold or picked a single apple. As much as I usually hated returning to school, that year it was even worse. I didn't even feel that excited about seeing my friends again. My classes seemed like a waste of time, and everyone around me acted so young and immature. By my final period, I had to hold myself into my desk. I wanted to jump up and scream, "I've got real work to do!" and run home to the orchard.
It made me angry that my cousins and sisters didn't share my frustration. When we got off the bus, Amy went on and on about how great high school was.
"The lockers are so much bigger than in junior high, and everyone just seems cooler. The teachers aren't as strict either. My English teacher, Mr. Rodrique, he..."
I let her keep babbling without really listening. Lisa had just moved up to sixth grade, and I also had to endure her descriptions of how great that was and how much responsibility the kids were given. I didn't waste my breath correcting her. Plus, I knew I had to stay on her good side.
In the middle of the week, I went into her room after dinner for a serious talk. I tried to make it clear it was serious by closing the door.
"What are you reading?" I began as I sat on her bed.
"Just reading ahead a little in my social studies book," she replied without looking up.
I shifted nervously on the bed. "Are you excited to start getting some of the apples sold?"
"Sure," she said, looking up in suspicion. She could already tell I wanted something. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"No reason. I'm just glad you're so enthusiastic, even making the sign. I just figured you'd be in charge of all the sales and counting the money and stuff."
She closed her book. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too. I was even planning out a system."
"Then you can definitely be in charge."
She smiled and looked thoughtfully out the window.
"The only thing is," I said reluctantly, "I don't think we have a lot of time to get them all picked and sold."
"Yeah, so?"
"It's just that we're probably going to have to sell on Saturdays and after school. I know that before the summer you didn't like to work after school, but we really, really need you now. And it will only be until we finish picking."
Her mouth