The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [65]
I sat in the same chair I had in February when she had practically begged me to become the orchard's "true heir." Now she was staring me down through a fake smile and telling me I should be happy with whatever crumbs she threw me. I had done more than she had ever imagined and now she was insulting me. She should be getting 20 percent. No! She shouldn't get anything! She hadn't lifted a finger in that orchard. I couldn't hold the anger back anymore.
"What if I just keep all the money?" I growled, narrowing my eyes menacingly.
Mrs. Nelson jerked back in shock and stared back at me with horrified eyes. "You wouldn't dare! I'd sue you for it! I'd ... I'd have you arrested for trespassing."
I wanted to reply with something clever about child labor laws and slavery, but my brain was too agitated to get any of that out. "I'd like to see you try!" I grunted, and jumped to my feet.
"You disrespectful brat! You stupid, stupid child!" she stammered.
I rushed to her door and then called back, "We've got a contract! You signed it!"
Once I got out the door, I realized my whole body was shaking. I stumbled around the corner of her house and bent over trying to control my breathing. After five minutes, I ran into the orchard and grabbed my picking bag.
"What did she want?" called Amy from atop a ladder ten feet from me.
"Just wanted to see how the picking was coming," I answered, trying to sound natural.
Amy looked at me suspiciously but didn't ask more questions.
Chapter 15
No Sleep until We're Through
It all came down to the apples. It was as simple as pulling them off the trees and putting them in the boxes. I convinced myself that if we could just do that fast enough, everything would work out. I would simply stick to the contract. Somehow the money and Mrs. Nelson would all work out. It was easiest to only think about the apples.
Amy and Michael picked at a steady pace, although Michael had slowed down trying to be careful with the stems. I borrowed a watch and figured out that between the three of us we could fill about four boxes per hour. There were about four hours between getting home from school and when it got dark. At sunset everyone automatically headed home for dinner comparing who deserved to be the most tired. During that second week of picking, I decided filling sixteen boxes a day wasn't going to be enough and I had better keep working after dinner. I was afraid to ask anyone else to help, so I grabbed the cheapest lamp I could find in the house and headed back out to the orchard alone. Michael's long line of extension cords was stretched between his house and the trees so we could listen to the radio. I unplugged the radio and plugged in the lamp.
Picking in the near darkness was hard. I had to constantly reposition the lamp to give myself some idea of where apples were on the trees. I lost track of time but could tell it was late by how much my neck and shoulder hurt from holding the picking bag. I filled up five boxes, then grabbed the lamp and dragged myself home. The clock said 11:30 when I walked in the door.
I felt that to have any chance of making the necessary money, we were going to have to pick twenty-five boxes a day. I made it my goal to produce an extra nine boxes every night. After dinner I would grab the light and head out. It took me until two in the morning to get nine boxes picked, and by the third week I had decided I would be better off splitting the extra work between morning and night. I would finish picking at around midnight and then wake up at 5:00 a.m. so I could get a couple of hours of work in before school.
I had never tried to survive on less than five hours of sleep a night before, and it began to suck the life out of me. I had always been smart enough in school that I could finish any homework assignments during class and very rarely had to take anything home to finish. With my new schedule, though, I found myself falling asleep during almost every period. The undone homework piled up, but I figured I would catch up with