The Apple

            Warmth.

            Luxurious, rejuvenating warmth.

            The apple became aware of the bright warm ball in the sky. A cool breeze fluttered the leaves around him, its breath sharpening his perception. A leaf brushed his skin. There were many more leaves rustling all around him. Other apples hung among them. He came to realize that he, too, was hanging, suspended in a tree high above the ground. But he felt no fear. From his stem he could feel a sweet fluid flowing into him. A voice came from there, also.

            “Little One,” the kind voice said. “Are you awake, my Little One?”

            “I think he’s waking now, Mother Tree,” another voice said.

            “Little One. Can you hear me, Little One?” the Mother Tree said.

            “Mother?” Little One said.

            “Ah, my precious Little One, I’ve been waiting for you. Do you know who you are?” She paused, and then answered for him. “You are a Washington Red Delicious apple.”

            “The best apples in the world!” the other voice said.

            “You have a wonderful purpose. You will make someone very happy one day.”

            Little one contemplated this, but said nothing. The idea of making someone very happy filled him with a new kind of warmth, not unlike the warmth of the sun. He drifted contentedly back to sleep.

            The next morning the warmth of the morning sun slowly pushed away the night’s chill. The air was still and Little One sensed that he hung a little heavier on his stem. He felt full and content. He also felt something at the center of his being that he could not describe. It felt small, yet important.

            “He’s waking up again, Mother Tree,” the nearby voice said.

            “Look after him,” Mother Tree said. “Mentor him.”

            “Hi, Little One,” Mentor said. “How do you feel?”

            “All right,” Little One said. “I feel full.”

            “That’s good. Mother Tree is preparing you. Soon you will carry her love and goodness to someone special.”

            Little One nodded thoughtfully.

            “You’re growing fast. I’ve been watching you since your petals fell off. You’re going to be a fine apple.”

            “I am?”

            “Oh, yes. You are a Washington Red delicious apple. The best in the world! You will go out to make someone very happy. Apples are sometimes given as gifts. People are grateful to receive them. Grateful to receive US! Think about that.”

            “Someone will be happy to have me?”

            “Oh, yes. You will make someone very happy.”

            “When will I go to see this person?”

            “Soon. You might go when the next round of the harvest comes. I was too small during the last harvest, but I’ll definitely go this time.”

            “He’ll be too small to go this time,” a lumpy apple said.

            “Maybe,” Mentor said. He glanced at Little One and smiled. “He’s growing fast. He might make it.”

            “It would be better if he waited for the one after. A small apple might not be appealing enough,” Lumpy said.

            “It doesn’t matter what we look like,” a perfectly shaped apple said. “It’s what’s inside us that counts.”

            “That’s right,” Mentor said. “A small one would be good for a kid’s lunch box.”

            “Yeah, but if he were skipped, he might grow big enough to be graded for juice,” Lumpy said. “That’s the best ticket.”

            “Why do you say that?” Mentor asked.

            “Because you’re a guaranteed hit. You don’t have to worry about how you look. And you never have to worry about bruises.”

            “You shouldn’t worry,” Perfect Shape said, “anyone would be happy to receive you, bruises or not.”

            “Thank you,” Lumpy said,” but still I’m hoping for juice.”

            “We’ll just have to see,” Mentor said, with a wink to Little One.

            The warm days and cool nights passed in succession. Little One grew larger, but the other apples around him grew also. After several days had passed some men arrived and placed some scaffolding and ladders around the trees. Little One watched them with wonder. After they left he spoke to Mentor.

            “What was that all about?”

            “Another round of harvest is about to get started in our area.” He smiled at Little One. “Some of us will be going tomorrow.”

            “Will you be going?”

            “Probably so.”

            “I want to go with you,” Little One said. “Will I get to go with you?”

            “I don’t know,” Mentor said thoughtfully. “You’re right on the borderline.”

            “But I have grown a lot.”

            I know you have, but it wouldn’t hurt to stay here a little longer. It could go either way. We’ll see.”

            “He’d be better off to wait for the next round,” Lumpy said. “He’d have a better chance at being graded for juice. Or at least he’d have a better chance at being eaten. Better hide yourself in the leaves, Kid.”

            “I don’t want to hide. I want to go this time.”

            “Well, either way it will work out for the best,” Mentor reassured him.

            Little One looked down at the scaffolding. “Those people that were here, are they the ones who are going to eat us?” he asked.

            “They might eat one or two, but most of us will be sent far away. Red Delicious apples are the best in the world. People from all over want us. It is a great and mysterious adventure to wait and see to whom you will go. That will be the one who will smile and be happy because of you. It’s exciting, isn’t it?” said Mentor.

            Little One pondered quietly as he tried to imagine the face of the happy person who would receive him. He thought about the manner in which he would be received. What events would surround it? Would there be a ceremony? Would Little One be the first apple the recipient had ever eaten? Or if not, would Little One compare favorably to the previous ones? Then another thought occurred to him.

            “How do I look?” he asked Mentor.

            “You look fine. Why?”

            “Well, I just want to make a good impression.”

            “You’ll make a great impression,” Perfect Shape said.

            “He should be a little bigger,” Lumpy said.

            “Oh stop with the talk about size,” Perfect Shape said. “Inside he is everything that you and I are.”

            “My Little One, you are beautiful!” Mother Tree said. “Your size is exactly as it should be for the person who will receive you. They will smile in anticipation and thank God for you. If they are hungry, you will bring nourishment. If they are ill, you will speed health. If they are bored, you will bring excitement. If you are given as a gift, that person will know that they are truly loved for the treasure they have received. You will color their life with sweetness. Remember the great privilege that is yours, to be the bearer of joy and goodness.”

            Mother Tree’s outpouring of praises silenced the apples with reverence. They had heard those words before and knew they were true for each of them.

            Mentor broke the breeze-rustled silence. “That’s right. It doesn’t matter if you go tomorrow, or the next round. You have a purpose, a calling. Trust in that calling. You will see it fulfilled.”

            Little One silently pondered Mentor’s words. He glanced over at Lumpy. Lumpy looked as though he wanted to speak, but said nothing and looked away.

            Little One awoke the next morning to a bustle of activity on the ground below. Even though the sun was not yet high enough to warm him, men were moving about through the trees carrying ladders and baskets and scaffold boards. Some had already climbed up into the nearby trees. He looked around his own tree and saw the other apples watching the activity with silent interest. He sensed a growing excitement as the work went into full swing. He thought he could also sense a little fear mingled with the excitement. Mother Tree’s voice suffused the scene with clarity and intent.

            “My children, in a short while some of you will be leaving. It is true that I will be with you no longer, but I wish to send you with a hope and an understanding of your purpose. This day is the beginning of your true destiny! You are Washington Red Delicious apples! You are the finest apples in the world! Some of you will travel far, and some of you will remain near, but each one of you carries with you the heritage and reputation of this fine land. Each of you carries the high expectation and reward of your genus and species. And each one of you carries the wholesome sweetness and satisfying crispness that I have given you. Carry it with you proudly. I also send you with my own hope for you, that you will be anticipated and received with joy! It is your destiny! Revel in it! It is about to begin! Remember all that I have told you. It is written in your core for the ones that may come after. Are you ready to go forth? Are you ready to bring happiness to the world?”

            All the apples in the tree shouted out their unanimous answer in joyous affirmation. Little One spoke excitedly to Mentor.

            “Wow! This is exciting!”

            “Yes, it is,” Mentor said, smiling.

            “I was starting to feel a little afraid, but now I feel like I’m ready to go! I want to call out to them and say, ‘Hurry! Take me! Take me!’“

            “I feel the same way. The reason is because Mother Tree spoke the truth to us. The truth is powerful. You remember that if you are ever afraid or discouraged. You remember the truth she told you.”

            “I will!”

            The scaffolding had been placed between the trees and workers were already plucking apples from the row opposite Little One. Ladders went up on the face of the trees where the apples hung out of reach of the men on the scaffolding. A ladder clanked hollowly as one worker stamped his foot on the lower rung to drive it into the dirt, then climbed up the metal rungs. Little One could hear the intermittent murmur of voices as the workers plucked the apples and placed them quickly but carefully into the baskets. The full baskets were handed to other workers on the ground. These covered the full baskets and handed up empty ones. A light breeze rustled the leaves around him. Little One could now just feel the sun’s warmth as it continued to rise above the trees beyond the orchard. A worker carrying a ladder stopped in front of Mother Tree. He looked up and studied the tree for a moment, then stood the ladder up and positioned it so that it leaned against the upper branches. He called out something to the nearby workers, took a basket, and started up the ladder.

            “Goodbye, my children!” Mother Tree cried. “Carry my love to the one who will receive you!”

            The worker stopped a few feet below Little One and began to gather apples.

            “If I go now, will I be able to stay with you?” Little One asked.

            “I don’t see why not,” Mentor said with a smile. “We’ll see!”

            Once he had gathered all that he could reach, the worker climbed up a few more rungs until he was level with Little One. He positioned the basket against the ladder and started plucking apples again. He was so close now that Little One could feel his own branch jerking slightly in a quick and steady rhythm. He looked down and saw the apples crowded in the bottom of the basket, their numbers growing at a quick, mechanical pace. He looked to his right just in time to see the strong, ruddy hand pluck Mentor from his branch. In an instant Mentor was passed to the other hand and placed into the basket. Then the fingers closed around Little One.

            But there was a hesitation. The man turned Little One back and forth for a few moments, studying him. Then the fingers closed and the hand plucked down sharply and Little One was severed from Mother Tree. With dizzying speed he was passed to the other hand and placed in the basket atop other apples. One of them still had a leaf on his stem. The basket filled rapidly and within a few minutes, with more apples crowded around him, Little One felt the basket being carried down the ladder. Once on the ground, a cloth was placed over the basket and soon it was being carried again. The worker placed it on a hard, flat surface where there was an unfamiliar humming noise. The noise grew and Little One was bumped and jostled around for what seemed like a very long time. When the jostling stopped, he felt the basket being carried again, very brief this time, and when the basket was placed down again, the unfamiliar noise faded away and the basket grew dark and quiet. A coolness began to creep into the basket and around him he could sense the other apples just beginning to stir.

            “Little One? Where are you?” Mentor asked. The voice was very close.

            “I’m here.”

            “Good. I thought I saw you getting picked. How are you doing?”

            “Okay. A little scared, I guess.”

            “Yes. It’s hard when we don’t know what’s going on.”

            “What will happen next?”

            “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Try to rest while you can.”

            Little One remained quiet and listened. Around him he could hear whispered conversations as the other apples checked in with one another. The coolness and dark of the basket made him think of night and he soon fell asleep.

            Little One has no idea how much time has passed before he was abruptly awakened by bright light and a mechanical humming noise. He was cold all the way through now and the light overhead was not warm like the sun. The humming noise, very much like a muffled clamor at times, frightened him.

            “Mentor, what’s happening?” he asked.

            “I don’t know, but don’t be scared. I’m right here with you.”

            “They’re probably going to spruce us up a bit, Little Fella,” said an apple with a very long stem. “That way we’ll look our best for our receptions.”

            “Some of us won’t need as much sprucing us as others, of course,” said an apple with the leaf still attached to his stem.

            “Oh, do you think so?” Long Stem said

            “I do,” Leaf Stem said.

            “And I suppose that all they will have to do for you is pluck off your ornamentation?”

            “They’d better not!” Leaf Stem said, feigning great indignation. “This leaf gives character. And it’s unique.” He glanced around quickly at the stems of the other apples, satisfied that no one else had one.

            “Hmm.” Long Stem studied the leaf. “Yes. I think you’re right. It gives you a dashing flair.”

            “Some of us need any advantage we can get!” said a dimpled apple. Some of the other apples chuckled.

            The conversation was cut short as a worker came by and abruptly scooped up the basket. The apples were carried over to a long conveyor that led to another part of the building. She tipped the basket over and the apples poured out onto the moving black rubber belt. In a moment they were whisked away, tumbling and rolling about. Each time they passed over one of the rollers under the belt they would gently jump up and shift around. The edges of the belt were turned up and the apples began to spread out along it.

            “Hey, this is fun, isn’t it?” asked Mentor.

            Little One laughed as he rolled around. Mentor’s voice seemed to come from many directions at once. Despite the rolling around he could tell that he was in a different part of the building now. Here the noise grew louder and soon the apples tumbled off the belt and onto various trays and devices. Sometimes Little One was stopped in a group and other times he was briefly alone. At one point, as the apples traveled slowly in a group, several were plucked out. A large one that had settled up next to Little One was picked up.

            “Hey, this is it! I think I’ve been graded for juice!” he called out excitedly. All of the apples cheered. “Good luck, everyone!” he shouted before he disappeared from sight.

            The apples passed through a refreshing bath, and were then air dried and misted with a fine wax. A few moments later, after some stop and go movement, a large group of them were sent down a narrow chute into a bag. The top of the bag was bound and a worker removed it from the machine, placing it in a box among other bags of apples. Little One’s bag was near the bottom and several more bags were placed above him before the box was full. Soon the box lid was shut and the box was placed in a truck. Little One could feel the hum of the motor through the box as the truck drove away.

            “Hey, kid!” Mentor called. “Hey, Little One, are you still with us?”

            “Yes, I am,” Little One said, somewhat relieved. “I’m glad we’re in the same bag. Toward the end I got so turned around that I couldn’t tell who was with me.”

            “How are you feeling?”

            “Okay. Kind of squished, though.”

            “I’ll bet. I think you’re pushed down into a corner. I wish I could help you out somehow.”

            “That’s all right,” Little One said.

            Occasionally, a hard bump would break the gentle hum and vibration of the engine and tires as the truck drove over a pothole or railroad track. Every time this would occur Little One felt the other apples above shift and settle, pressing him harder into the corner. He tried not to think about it.

            “It feels like it’s getting colder in here,” he said aloud.

            “It is,” Leaf Stem said. “It must be to keep us fresh.”

            “You’re fresh enough!” Long Stem said.

            “Yes,” Leaf Stem said. “I suppose that’s why I’m going to get eaten first. I’m fresh, I’m beautiful, and I’ve got my fine leaf still intact!”

            “I don’t know,” Long Stem said. “I’m thinking that I’ll be the first to be taken.”

            “Are you trying to say that my leaf isn’t beautiful?” Leaf Stem said in mock indignation.

            “Oh, no. Your leaf is just capital! As a matter of fact, I would say if it weren’t for my presence, you would definitely be the first one chosen, you and your fine-looking, leaf-topped self!”

            “Quite complimentary,” Mentor said in an amused whisper to Little One.

            “Well, my friend,” Leaf Stem said, “while I admit that your long stem is a credit to you, I don’t see how it can put you up front, in a manner of speaking.”

            “Oh, my faith is not in the stem at all!” Long Stem said. “In fact, I consider it a most unnecessary accoutrement.”

            “Well then, what makes you so sure about being taken first?”

            “I just have a lucky feelin’!” Long Stem said, rapturously. The other apples in the bag chuckled.

            Little One smiled to himself as he listened to the playful banter. It took his mind off of the load pressing on him and once again filled him with a heady excitement of the great things that surely lay ahead for him.

            The next day the apples listened intently as the truck was parked and its engine shut down. A sudden clattering broke the silence as the rear door flung open and a flurry of movement whirled inside. Boxes were being unloaded and soon Little One felt his box being tipped sideways. They were rolled through a place of much activity, with mechanical noises and close voices. Then they passed into a place that seemed more open. The voices were few and there was light music playing. The box was set down and the top was cut open. The bags of apples were taken out and arranged on an inclined shelf. Then the stock person rolled the empty box away.

            Little One looked around at the grocery store. It was brightly lit and colorful. There were people walking around with carts looking at items and making selections. The apples began talking in hushed tones.

            “Hey, Little One,” Mentor called, “can you see all this?”

            “Yes, I can.”

            “This is pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

            “Uh-huh,” Little One said. “It sure is a pretty place.”

            Little One watched the different people go by. At the far side of the produce section, next to the dairy aisle, Little One saw a man with a cart walking slowly and looking over the cheeses. He carried a list and next to him walked a blond boy of about seven. Two children of about ten years walked quickly up to the cart. The girl held a jar of pickles and the boy carried a bottle of catsup. The man stopped the cart and the children placed the items inside. Then he read something off of the list and pointed to another part of the store. The two children quickly scurried off again.

            Little One regarded the little blond boy. The child was pointing toward the apples on the produce rack and speaking to his dad. He had a smile on his face and wonder in his eyes. His father glanced down his list, then smiled and nodded. Little One’s excitement grew as he watched the little boy walk toward the apples. The child’s face was beaming, proud to be sent on an errand like the bigger kids. Little One thrilled when he realized the boy was looking right at him.

            Suddenly, his view of the boy was obscured. A cart had imposed itself between the boy and the apples. A woman’s hand swiftly picked up the bag and placed into the cart. The cart was already full and the apples rested near the back and against the side. Then the cart quickly moved away from the rest of the apples on the produce rack.

            “Whoa!” Leaf Stem said. “That got my attention!”

            “Me, too,” Long Stem said, “I saw it coming and it still startled me.”

            “We’re definitely on our way!” a dark red apple said.

The cart sped along until it reached the end of the aisle, then turned and headed for the checkouts at the front of the store. As it turned the corner Little One caught a glimpse of the boy lifting a bag of apples off of the rack. He was standing exactly where Little One’s bag had been. With a joyful look on his young face, the boy held the bag up like a prize and turned toward his father. Then he went out of sight as the cart continued toward the front of the store.

“I think it’s a good sign,” a very shiny apple said to Little One. “We’re the first bag taken! That’s got to be a sign.”

Little One nodded politely as he directed his attention to the other apples in the bag. He noticed Mentor and Perfect Shape looking toward the front of the cart and speaking to one another quietly. Little One strained to see where they were looking. At the very front of the cart he could see the upper edge of a box of cookies.

The cart rolled to the checkout and the apples were one of the first items to be placed on the belt. There was no one to help bag the groceries just yet so the apples watched as the other items were lifted out of the cart. Soon they saw that not one, but two boxes of cookies were placed on the belt.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!” Leaf Stem said.

“She’s wasting her time with those,” Long Stem said. “Doesn’t she know we’re Washington Red Delicious apples?”

“Yeah. The best in the world!” Leaf Stem said.

“Perhaps she’s picking them up for a neighbor,” Perfect Shape said.

“We’d better hope so,” Lumpy said.

“Huh! You mean they’d better hope so!” Leaf Stem said. “Those cookies will rot people’s teeth.”

“And expand their waist line,” Long Stem said. “No one ever got fat eating apples.”

“They MUST be for the neighbors,” Shiny said.

A bag person appeared and quickly put away all of the items. Soon the apples were on their way to the car. The grocery cart jiggled and rattled noisily as it rolled across the parking lot. The ride in the car was much smoother by comparison, but the trunk was not cool. Once at the house they were among the first items carried inside. The apples were placed on the kitchen table next to a wide, shallow basket. The table was small and sat against one wall of the kitchen. The apples eagerly studied their new surroundings as the woman made her subsequent trips to the car.

“Wow,” Long Stem said, “this is some kitchen. Look at all this space.”

“And look,” Leaf Stem said, “we’ve got a window. We can see outside!”

“I’ve really got a good feeling about this place,” Shiny said, smiling with confidence.

“I bet a lot of good cooking goes on in here,” said a creased apple.

“This lady is a natural born cook!” Leaf Stem said.

“And now she’s got some real material to work with!” Long Stem said.

“I’ll say,” another said.

“Pay attention, all you kitchen items,” a lop-sided apple said, addressing the room, “the Washington apples are here! Ha!”

Although Little One felt some of the infectious excitement of the other apples, he remained quiet. His side of the bag faced the basket and he studied it with interest. The wicker basket had been woven flat like a plate and measured about fifteen inches across. The edges of the plate rose to form a rim three inches high. Here some extra weaving had been added for strength and decoration. Two handles were woven into the rim at opposite sides of the basket.

Inside the basket Little One could see three old apples leaning against the rim on the far side. They seemed weary and they studied the new apples with a sad resignation. Each one of them was bruised, but the one on the left was bruised the worst. He was not small, but he was the smallest of the three. The apple turned his attention toward Little One and the two apples stared at each other quietly for a few moments.

“Hey!” one of the apples in the bag called. “Clear those old apples out of there! You need to make room for us!” A few other apples laughed.

Little One glanced at the other two apples in the basket. He could tell that they had heard the remark and it embarrassed him. His eyes again met the gaze of the apple on the left and there he saw the faintest hint of a smile on the bruised apple’s face. To Little One it seemed a warm regard and he returned a weak smile.

The bruised apple’s gaze left Little One as the three apples looked upward. The woman’s arms came into view and her hands grasped the two handles of the wide, wicker basket. She lifted the basket from the table and it passed overhead out of Little One’s view.

“Okay! Now we’re talking!” one of the apples in the bag said.

“Soon we’ll be out of this crowded bag,” Shiny said with a wink. He was next to Little One in the bag. Little One made no reply.

A few moments later the basket returned and was back in its place on the table. Little One saw that it was empty, but before he had time to think the bag was abruptly stood upright. The top was opened briskly and the bag was pushed over into the basket, some of the apples tumbling to the far side. The bottom of the bag was lifted and Little One rolled out with the last of the apples. There was indeed a lot of space in the basket. There was so much space in fact that all of the apples were lying freely on the bottom, touching one another only slightly.

“Ahh,” Leaf Stem said, coming to rest against the rim of the basket, “that’s much better!”

“I’ll say!” Long Stem said. “But you didn’t mind too much being jammed up with the rest of us, did you?”

“Never in life!” Leaf Stem said. “It was cozy, to be sure, but I hate the thought of my having a CRUSH on someone else.” A few of the apples chuckled.

Little One had come to rest near the center of the basket. For the first time he could see all of the apples that had been in the bag with him. He thought that most of them were from the same tree, but he couldn’t be sure. The center of the basket bulged up slightly and from this vantage Little One could see a window. Outside the window he saw a yard with some bushes that ran to a road. Beyond the road was another house with a yard and a big tree. The sun was shining brightly and a breeze fluttered the leaves on the tree. It seemed like a pretty neighborhood to Little One.

“You know,” Dark Red said, “this basket really is a great idea.”

“I’ll say,” Dimple said, “we’re right in the center of the room, clearly visible to anyone who comes in the kitchen.”

“This lady is very smart,” Shiny said.

“And check out this view,” said a tall apple. “It reminds me of Mother Tree.” Several of the apples directed their attention toward the window. A few grunted in agreement.

“It is a nice view from here, isn’t it?” Mentor said to Little One. He was leaning against the side of the basket that touched the wall.

Little One turned toward him and smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“I think this is the first sunlight we’ve seen since the day we were picked.”

Little One nodded as he looked out of the window again. He watched the leaves fluttering in the breeze and this time the branches swayed also. The swaying made the leaves dance with the wind.

“I wish we could show Mother Tree this place,” Little One said. “I wonder how far we are from her now.”

“There’s no telling,” Mentor said.

“Do you think she still thinks about us?” Little One asked.

“I’m sure she does,” Mentor said. “Someone told me once that Mother Tree will always remember every one of her children.”

Little One smiled to himself as he watched the dancing leaves.

The woman came to the table and took some items out of one of the grocery bags. She moved swiftly to an open cabinet and put the items on a shelf. She worked quickly and as the apples watched, she emptied two bags and started on a third. Out of this bag came the two boxes of cookies. The woman set one of the boxes on the table next to the basket.

“Boo!” Leaf Stem said.

“Boo, and hiss,” Long Stem said.

The woman took the other box and went to the window where an empty glass jar stood on the sill. She opened the box, poured the cookies into the jar, and then replaced the lid. She put the empty box into the trash and put the unopened box into a cabinet. Then she continued putting away the rest of the groceries.

“Cookies,” Long Stem said. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah,” Leaf Stem said, “those guys are just going to have to wait their turn!”

“I’ll say!” Lop-side added.

“But why did she buy two boxes?” a fat, ball-shaped apple asked to no one in particular.

“That’s a good question,” someone nearby murmured. Little One glanced around and saw the lumpy apple staring at him, apprehension on his face.

The apples watched as the woman put the rest of the groceries away. She cleared away the empty bags, took some cleaning materials out from under the sink, and went to work in another part of the house.

Early afternoon brought the first of the children home from school. A young boy of about ten years old came walking up to the house with a book bag on his back. As he walked past the front window, a ripple of excitement raced through the apples. They watched him until he passed out of view, then listened as he came through the front door.

“Mom!” the boy called out. “I’m home!”

“Hi, Honey!” the mother returned.

“I’m gonna go outside and play with Josh, all right?”

“Do you have homework?”

“Yes, a little. Can I do it later?” The boy stepped into the kitchen and there paused to hear his mother’s answer.

“Do your homework first, then go outside,” she answered. “It won’t take long if you get right on it.”

The boy grimaced and set his book bag down next to the table. Going to the refrigerator, he filled a glass with a fruit flavored drink and set the glass down on the table. He briefly looked over the apples.

“Right here, kid!” Long Stem called out. But the boy turned and then went to the cookie jar at the window. He took out two cookies, replaced the lid, and then sat down at the table. He munched on one of the cookies as he rummaged through the book bag, producing a math worksheet and a pencil.

“Hello!” Leaf Stem yelled. “Excuse me, kid, but I think you’ve missed something here.”

“I’ll say,” Dimple said. “We barely got a look.”

“At least we got a look,” Shiny said.

“Yes, that’s nice,” Long Stem said, “but you don’t get very far on a look.”

“Maybe it’s, uh,” Perfect Shape started, “maybe it’s the newness of it all.”

“Maybe he hasn’t seen a cookie in a long time,” an apple with a crease said.

“I’m sure the weight of the attributes WE possess,” Mentor said, “will begin to overwhelm the other choices.” A few other apples murmured their assent.

“Yes,” Dark Red said, “after all, we’re Washington Red Delicious apples!” Several of the apples cheered.

“The best apples in the world!” Lop-side said. This time all of the apples cheered.

“Full of vitamins!” Crease called out. Another cheer rose.

“Crisp and sweet!” Little One shouted through the noise. He glanced up at the boy.

“We’ll even clean your teeth!” shouted another and some chuckling rose up with the cheer and the apples settled down, satisfied that their case had been stated so well.

“Those other guys will rot your teeth,” Perfect Shape said.

“And spoil your dinner,” Long Stem said.

“You let us down, young fellow,” Leaf Stem said, “but we’ll give you another opportunity to redeem yourself.” The other apples agreed.

Little One looked up at the boy. By now he had put the last of the second cookie into his mouth and was chewing it quickly. His blue-green eyes were fixed on his math problems and he held a pencil in his left hand. He would tap the pencil eraser against his cheek as he concentrated, then write numbers with quick determination. Occasionally he would furrow his eyebrows and erase, and then rework the problem. As Little One watched the boy, a sense of wonder and tenderness began to fill his mind.

“Maybe he has never tasted an apple,” he said aloud. “Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“You know,” Mentor said, “that may be true.”

“At his age?” Lumpy said. “I doubt it.”

“It’s not so far-fetched,” Perfect Shape said. He glanced at Little One. “Who knows? One of us may give him his first taste of Washington grown perfection.”

“Yes,” Mentor added, “and I wonder who that lucky apple will be.” He smiled at Little One, but the small apple was still watching the boy in admiration.

A little over thirty minutes after the boy arrived home, the older brother appeared on the walkway. He smiled and nodded to someone as he gazed up the road and he raised his hand to wave. He had orange hair and a stocky build and he stepped through the front door as the woman returned from the back rooms. They greeted each other and the woman said, “Bring your clothes hamper into the laundry room, I’m doing jeans.” She went through the kitchen and into a utility room.

“All right,” the older boy replied. He came into the kitchen and spoke to the younger boy. “Hey! How much homework have you got?”

“I’m almost done now.”

“Do you want to go out after you’re done and try to beat me again?”

“TRY to beat you? If my blade hadn’t broken, and I hadn’t been using my back-up stick, I’d have dusted you!”

“All right. Hurry up and finish and we’ll go out and see!”

“You aren’t going out until that hamper is in here,” the woman said as she carried a basket of clean clothes back through the kitchen and into the living room.

“I’ll get it right now,” the older boy said. He stepped over to the table and looked into the basket. Then he reached down and picked up Perfect Shape. A cheer rose up from the apples.

“Good luck, everyone!” Perfect Shape called. “Follow your destiny!” The apples cheered again.

The older boy carried the apple to the window to where the cookie jar sat. He put the apple into his mouth and held it with his teeth. Then, with his hands free, he reached down and took two cookies from the jar. He held them with one hand and ate the apple with the other. “I’ll get our stuff out there.” Then he left the kitchen for the back of the house.

“That kid will be our champion, I think,” Long Stem said.

“A veritable Hercules!” Leaf Stem said.

“He did take two cookies,” Lumpy said.

“True,” Long Stem said, “but he took the apple first!”

“And he ate it first!” Leaf Stem said.

“He sure did,” Mentor said.

The older boy reappeared a few moments later carrying a laundry hamper. As he passed through the kitchen one apple with an uneven base which caused him to lean to one side, said, “He sure is strong.”

“And athletic,” Shiny said. “He’ll need to eat a lot to keep up his strength.”

“The younger one is athletic, too,” Little One said.

“Yes, he is,” Mentor said.

The younger boy put down his pencil and stood up hurriedly, gathering his things into his book bag. Then he and the older boy headed to the back area of the house. They reappeared a few minutes later carrying their hockey sticks and inline skates.

“Be careful,” the mother said.

“We will,” the boys answered in unison. They went through the front door just as the older sister was coming up the walkway. They walked quickly around her and headed for the street. The girl, a teenager, came inside the house and stopped in the living room.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, Honey.”

“When is dinner?”

“We’ll eat in about an hour. There’s fruit in the kitchen.”

At this the apples attention perked up. They watched attentively as the girl came into the kitchen and looked into the basket.

“Did you buy any pears?”

“Pears?” Leaf Stem said. “She wants pears!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Long Stem said.

“No,” the mother said, “but there are apples in there. They look good, too.”

“Especially me!” Dark Red called out. The other apples laughed, then collectively held their breath as the girl looked at the apples again. But she turned away without taking one.

“Was it something I said?” Dark Red asked. No one answered him.

“I’ve got to finish typing a paper for a project,” the girl said as she walked back into the living room. “If no one else needs it now, I’m going to get on the computer.”

“All right,” the mother answered. The girl disappeared toward the back of the house.

“Well,” Lumpy said, “I doubt if you could say that she has never tasted an apple.”

“We don’t know that,” Mentor said.

“Oh, come on. You can’t prefer one thing over another without having tasted both.”

“At least she didn’t have a cookie,” Shiny offered.

“Well,” Lumpy said, “I guess that’s something, isn’t it?”

As the afternoon grew late and the sun traced its arc down low toward the horizon, sunlight came in through the window and filled the whole kitchen with a glow of orange warmth. The apples were quiet now and most of them watched as the mother prepared the evening meal. Little One studied the sun and noticed that although its brilliance was diminished, he could still feel some warmth radiating from it. He was surprised when the glow was suddenly eclipsed by a figure coming up the walk to the door. It was a man in a work uniform and he carried a metal lunch box. He opened the front door and stepped inside.

“Hey, I’m home!” the man said.

“Hi, Hon!” the mother said. “I’m in here.”

The father stepped into the kitchen. “Boy, that smells good! How long before dinner?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Good. I’m famished.” He glanced around the kitchen and noticed the basket. A ripple of excitement went through the apples. “Maybe I can just have a little something to tie me over.”

“Right here, Pops!”  Long Stem said.

“Yeah, come on, Dad!” Leaf Stem said. “Take the edge off!”

“Actually, this’ll be ready in about fifteen or twenty minutes,” the mother said. “Would you mind calling the boys in?”

The father stood looking over the apples for a few moments longer.

“Come on, Dad. She won’t mind,” Dimple said. The other apples held their breath, their attention on the man leaning over them. But the father straightened and turned away.

“Yeah, I’ll go call them in,” he said. He left the kitchen and went back outside.

“Man!” Long Stem said. “So close!”

“It looks like that’s how it’ll be around here,” Mentor said. “Lots of close calls.”

“I don’t think my nerves can stand it!” Leaf Stem said.

“I think we can stand it as long as someone is taken now and then,” Crease said.

“Well, we didn’t do too well on that score,” Lumpy said.

“But this is just the first afternoon,” Shiny said. “Tomorrow is a whole new day.”

That’s right,” Mentor said. “We need to get into the routine of things to really see how it will go.”

“I think it looks pretty clear already,” Lumpy said.

“Oh, lighten up,” Dark Red said. “Why are you always so negative?”

“I’m a realist.”

“Did he say ‘zeal-less’?” Leaf Stem asked.

“I think he did,” Long Stem said, smiling.

“What about lunches?” Shiny asked.

“Yes,” Mentor said, “that’s a possibility.”

“Of course!” Long Stem said. “With five people, each taking one apple for lunch.…” He paused and looked around to make a quick mental calculation.

“There won’t be enough of us to last the week!” Leaf Stem said.

“Everyone will have a chance!” Shiny said. A murmur of excitement went through the basket.

“So you see, Mr. Gloom and Doom?” Leaf Stem said. “We’re not out of this yet!”

“Yes,” Mentor said, “I think it’s too early to make predictions. We need to watch and see.”

“After all,” Long Stem said, “this is only the first day!”

Later that night, after the family had all gone to bed and the house slept in quiet darkness, the moon rose and painted the yard with soft, cool light. The tree outside stood frozen in a ghostly, upward stretch in the still, night air.

The apples, too, reposed in quiet stillness. The predictions and calculations and possibilities feverishly discussed earlier in the evening had emotionally exhausted them. Most sat in quiet rumination while others dozed fitfully. A few, respecting the quiet, whispered to each other in hushed tones.

“You just wait,” Long Stem said, “any moment one of them is going to come out for a midnight snack.”

“It’s inevitable!” Leaf Stem said. “And what better snack than an apple?”

“You know,” whispered Shiny, “we haven’t talked about the possibility of lunches. If the dad and each kid take one for lunch…”

“That’s four taken every day!” a pale-sided apple said.

“There won’t be enough of us to last a week!” Lop-side said.

“Ka-ching!” Leaf Stem whispered.

            Little One listened to the quiet chatter for a little while before turning his gaze to a point out beyond the window. Earlier, he had watched patiently as the sun went down, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stars coming out, but a nearby streetlamp came on and its light blanked out the darkening sky. Little One stared at the tree glowing in the moonlight.

            “What are you thinking about?” Mentor whispered.

            “I was thinking about those apples that were in this basket when we arrived.”

            “What about them?”

            “What happened to them? Where did they go?”

            “I couldn’t see them from where I was in the bag,” Mentor said. “I’m not sure.”

            “They were in the basket one moment,” Little One said, “then the woman took the basket away. When she came back, they’re gone.”

            “Hmm. I don’t know,” Mentor said. “We have always focused on being chosen and being eaten. No one ever mentioned going to waste.”

            “I have an idea about it,” Crease said. “Once I saw an apple fall from Mother Tree that landed nearby on the ground. It took some time, but it turned brown all over, then it rotted into mush. It was nasty.”

            Little One gasped. “I don’t want that to happen to me! I don’t want that to happen to any of us!”

            “Well, no one wants to see it happen,” Mentor said. “And it’s not expected to happen. After all, we’re Washington Red Delicious apples!” He gestured at Crease to say something positive.

            “Uh, yeah!” Crease said. “That’s right. That older boy is bound to tell everyone else how good Perfect Shape tasted. And when he does, they’ll be excited to come and get one for themselves.”

            “Why,” Mentor added, “I bet they’ll be so excited, they may even eat two at a time!”

            “That’s right,” Crease said, nodding.

            Little One nodded, too, but he found it hard to get excited. The images in his mind alternated between the sad look on the face of the bruised apple in the basket, and the image of a rotting apple next to Mother Tree. He glanced around the basket and noticed Lumpy staring at him. The expression on his face told Little One that Lumpy had heard the conversation, too.

            The morning routine in the home started just as the eastern sky began to turn gray with the pre-dawn. The apples awoke suddenly with the kitchen light and watched in eagerness as the mother came in and got the coffee going. They followed her every movement as she arranged the breakfast items on the table.  From the back of the house they heard the other family members stirring. The mother poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

            “Come on, Mom,” Long Stem said. “You’re not ready to sit down just yet.”

            “Why not?” Dark Red asked.

            “She’s got to get the lunches ready.”

            “Those kids will be out any minute,” Leaf Stem said.

            “Maybe she already made the lunches,” Shiny said.

            “She didn’t make them yesterday,” Long Stem said.

            “And she didn’t make them last night,” Leaf Stem said.

            “That’s what I meant,” Long Stem said.

            “Oh,” Leaf Stem said. “Yes.”

            They all watched her intently to see if she would make the lunches, but she merely sat, quietly sipping her coffee.

            The dad walked in already dressed for work. He grabbed an insulated mug from a cabinet and filled it with coffee, then attached the lid and went to the basket of apples. Before any of them could realize what was happening, he took one of the apples and placed it in his pocket. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife.

            “I gotta go,” he said.

            “He took the tall apple!” Dimple shouted, and the apples sent up a cheer.

            “You’re not going to eat?” the mom asked.

            “Don’t have time. I forgot to get gas on the way home last night and I’ll have to stop on the way to work.”

            “Well, do you have any ones?” the mom asked. “We’re out of lunch money.”

            The apples all seemed to hold their breath as the father put his mug on the table and took out his wallet. He fished out three one-dollar bills and handed them to her.

            “Do you need quarters, too?” he asked, returning the wallet to his pocket.

            “No, there’re still some in the dish.”

            “Okay. I’ll get some more ones today after work.” He kissed her again, told her goodbye, then left.

            The apples sat in stunned silence, staring at the mother as she sipped her coffee.

            “Well, now what?” Lop-Side asked to no one in particular.

            “What do you mean, ‘now what’?” Dark Red asked.

            “We’re finished, that’s what,” a leaning apple snapped.

            “But this is just the second day,” Shiny protested. “I wouldn’t say we’re finished just yet.”

            “Really,” Lumpy said.

            “I’m afraid it’s in the numbers, my shiny friend,” Leaf Stem said. “If even just the three kids took apples for lunch, enough of us….” He stopped to calculate.

            “Twelve,” Long Stem offered, “if you count next Wednesday.”

            “Yes, twelve of us would have been guaranteed to go. An occasional snack or a picnic would have surely taken the rest. But now….”

            “Boy,” Dimple said, “I would’ve loved to have gone to school in a lunch. Even if you’re traded away, you still make it!”

            “Well, you can forget about that now,” Lumpy said.

            “But don’t kids still take apples to school for their teachers?” Crease asked. “They could do that even if they didn’t bring a lunch.”

            “Yes, they could,” Mentor said. “They might also have one of us with breakfast. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

            “They might even take one of us to eat on the way to school,” Shiny said.

            “This family?” Lumpy said. “You’re dreaming.”

            “Shiny’s right. It’s just too early to tell,” Long Stem said. “Let’s just watch and see what happens.”

            By now the boys had come out for breakfast, but they only ate cold cereal. Neither of them had an apple with breakfast, nor did they take an apple with them when they left. The daughter came out and ate a piece of toast and some orange juice. The mother ate nothing. Watching the procession left them uneasy, but the real worrying did not begin until the daughter left empty-handed and the mother went back to her bedroom to prepare for the day’s housework. It descended on the basket like a chill.

            “Well, have a look around friends,” a spotted apple said. “Some of us aren’t going to make it.”

            Little One looked at Mentor, who started to speak, but only sighed.

            “I guess there are just too many choices,” Little One whispered.

            Mentor nodded. “Yes, there are lots of choices, but we are still a strong contender in the choice arena. Don’t forget that. Don’t forget who we are.”

            “I won’t forget.”

            “How are you holding up?”

            “All right, I guess,” Little One said. “I’m starting to bruise a little where I was pressed down in the box during our ride to the store.”

            Mentor looked over the bruises. “That’s not much. I don’t think anyone would notice. I can’t even see a discoloration.” Mentor smiled. “You’re still sweet, aren’t you?”

            Little One smiled and nodded.

            The morning passed without incident. The apples saw the mother only occasionally as she passed through the kitchen carrying out her chores. At one point she left the house to run an errand, and returned in time for lunch. She put away her things, then went to the pantry and took out a jar of peanut butter. She also grabbed a knife and paper plate and sat down at the table.

            The apples held their breath as the mother leaned over the basket. She looked for a moment, then grabbed the dark red apple.

            “Hey! Hey!” shouted Dark Red. “This is it! Good luck everyone!” The apples shouted in celebration.

            “You see?” Shiny said. “It’s not over! Not by a long shot!”

            “That’s right!” Mentor said. “We must be true to our calling. We must be true to our purpose. It won’t let us down!”

            “Yes!” Lop-Side said. “After all, we’re Washington Red Delicious Apples!”

            “The best in the world!” Long Stem shouted.

            “A gift of nature and a bringer of health!” Leaf Stem said.

            “Hey, look!” Little One called out.

            The mother had cut the apple into slices. She took one of the slices, daubed it with peanut butter, and then ate it with great satisfaction.

            “Well, I’ll be,” Crease said.

            “That’s one I never thought of,” Long Stem said.

            “I never thought of it either,” Mentor said, “but it seems like a great idea.”

            “She sure does seem to be enjoying it,” Leaf Stem said.

            “I bet this lady has lots of great ideas for apples!” Shiny said.

            “Recipes for desserts, for snacks,” Spot added.

            “Yes, sir!” Lop-Side said. “This week is still young!”

            The apples cheered, then watched in silent admiration as the woman finished her innovative snack.

            The apples spent the rest of the afternoon talking excitedly about new possibilities as they waited for the children to come home. Their excitement still ran high by the time the youngest arrived. They watched and listened expectantly as he came in and placed his things down on the table.

            “Come on, kid,” Mentor said. “You know you’re hungry.”

            But just like the day before, the boy took two cookies and ate them as he completed his homework.

            “Huh!” Long Stem said. “Him and those cookies again! I just don’t get it.”

“I don’t understand the attraction,” Leaf Stem said.

“Maybe mom should tell him about the peanut butter,” Dimple said.

“Somebody better tell him something,” Lumpy said.

The older boy came in soon after. He placed his homework on the table across from his brother.

“Welcome home, Champ!” Leaf Stem said.

“A satisfying treat awaits you right here!” Long Stem said.

But the older boy went to the breadbox and took out a piece of bread instead. He sat down and ate it as he started on his homework.

“Champ,” Leaf Stem said, “you let us down.”

“For a piece of bread!” Long Stem said. “There’s no justice.”

“Well,” Crease said, “I guess he can’t have apples every day.”

“There aren’t many days to spare for us,” Lumpy said.

“Aww,” Shiny said, “Champ will come around. You’ll see.”

“I hope so,” Spot said.

They watched the boys in silence. Little One in particular watched the younger boy as he finished his second cookie, hoping that he might still be hungry for an apple. But the boy only concentrated on his paper.

“I think that boy will come around, too,” Mentor said to Little One.

“I don’t know,” Little One said. “Maybe if his mother let him put chocolate on apples, he might be more interested.”

Mentor smiled. “I don’t think it’s as bad as that. He’s still young. He hasn’t learned what’s good for him from what’s not. He’ll come around in time.”

Little One nodded, but said nothing.

Friday night saw only one more apple taken. The older son had eaten a solid red apple during the family’s movie time, much to the elation of the apples in the basket. The rest of the family had eaten popcorn, and at one point the cookie jar was brought to the living room. The mother brought it back empty and placed it on the windowsill again, then turned out the lights as everyone went to bed.

“Well,” Leaf Stem said, once the mother had gone, “looks like our champ came through again.”

“Yes, sir,” Long Stem said, “a stalwart lad.”

“The rest of the family sure isn’t coming through,” Lumpy said.

“You can say that again,” a fat, ball-shaped apple said. “We’re not going to make it at this rate.”

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Spot said.

“I’m not sure about what we can do,” Mentor said, “but I do know this. That cookie jar is empty, and as long as it stays empty, we’ve got a fighting chance.”

“There’s another box of cookies somewhere,” Lumpy said.

“That’s true,” Mentor said, “but maybe mom isn’t in a hurry to refill it.”

“Yes,” Long Stem said. “She certainly could have filled it tonight.”

“There was nothing stopping her!” Leaf Stem said.

“That’s right!” Shiny said. “Maybe she’s getting tired of all the cookies being eaten around here.”

“Maybe she’ll give the box away to someone else,” Dimple said.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Mentor said, with a wink to Little One.

Saturday morning found the house quiet until long after the sun had risen. The younger one had gotten up to watch cartoons, and soon the older boy joined him. Little one watched them with interest.

“I wonder if people have apples for breakfast on the weekends?” Little One asked aloud.

“I’m not sure,” Mentor said, “But I have heard of people taking apples with them on picnics.”

“What are picnics?”

“That’s when people pack a lot of fun things to eat in a basket and take them out in the sunshine to play games or go for walks.”

“Sometimes they go to the beach or the lake,” said Crease.

“That’s right,” Mentor said.

“I’m a fun thing to eat,” Little One said.

“No doubt,” Mentor said with a smile.

“Oh, how I would love to go on a picnic!” said Shiny.

“You can’t go wrong on a picnic,” Leaf Stem said.

“Maybe we’ll get the chance today,” Long Stem said.

The apples waited with great anticipation, but as the rest of the family got up and began the Saturday chores, it became obvious that there would be no picnic this day.

After lunch, a friend of the younger boy came over to play. They came into the kitchen and the friend noticed the apples in the basket.

“Hey, can I have an apple?” the friend asked.

“Help yourself,” the mom said.

The friend reached in and grabbed Lop-Side. The apples cheered.

“I’m going to have a cookie,” the young boy said, but noticed the jar was empty. “Hey, mom, I’m going to open the other box of cookies.”

“No you’re not,” the mom said. “You’ve been eating too many cookies lately.”

“Yes!” Leaf Stem cried. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“You tell him, mom!” Crease said.

“If you want something,” the mom said, “have an apple.”

“The voice of an angel!” Long Stem shouted. The other apples cheered.

“But I want a cookie,” the young boy said.

“You get an apple of you get nothing,” the mom said.

“You see?” Mentor said. He winked at Little One. “What did I tell you?”

Little One watched the boy and felt a shudder of anticipation as the boy turned toward the basket. As he came closer Little One felt frozen in place, and he gasped in excitement as the hand reached in overhead.

“Whoo-hoo!” Crease shouted as he was lifted from the basket. “I’m going home, boys! Good luck to all of you!”

Little One sighed as his whole being relaxed, but he watched the boy with anticipation. How would he react? He followed the apple as it rose to the boy’s mouth, and heard the crunch of the bite, but the boy turned around before Little One could gauge his reaction. The two boys took their apples and went outside.

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” Mentor said.

Little One nodded.

“You see, things are turning around.”

“I’ll say!” Shiny said. “Two taken, one right after another!”

“Yep,” Mentor said, “and as soon as that kid gets a taste for apples he’ll surely be back for more.”

“I think the weekend may be our best time,” Shiny said.

“I hope so,” Fat Ball said.

The weekend did provide reason for celebration. Dad had taken an apple Saturday evening, and the daughter had sliced one up with peanut butter on Sunday. The champ had returned far another on Sunday afternoon, but the younger boy had not come back. By Sunday night, the basket had thinned out considerably.

“Well,” Shiny said, looking around, “I think we’re making good progress.”

“How so?” Lumpy asked.

“So many of us are being taken.”

“Not nearly enough to matter. Face it, the weekend’s over, and there are still nine of us left. We’re done for.”

“I don’t know,” Leaf Stem said. “I think the peanut butter thing is starting to catch on nicely.”

“Oh, yes,” Long Stem said. “I think it’s a good enhancement.”

“Since when did we need enhancement?” Lumpy said. “What happened to crisp and sweet, and given as gifts, and all that?”

“I think we just have to be grateful for what comes,” Mentor said.

“But how much more is going to come?” Spot asked. “We’re about to start another week of no lunches.”

“What will happen to those who don’t make it?” Fat Ball asked. “Where do they go?”

“I’ve never given it much thought,” Dimple said.

“Some of us are going to find out,” Lumpy said.

“Oh, stop it, will you?” Long Stem said. “Anything could happen to turn things around.”

“That’s right,” Leaf Stem said. “One apple pie would probably take everyone.”

“Sure,” Lumpy said.

“I think there are just too many choices for them,” Spot said. “And some of us are starting to bruise.”

“Well, I’m not giving up, yet,” Long Stem said.

“I think none of us should give up,” Mentor said. He looked at Little One and smiled warmly. “None of us.”

Little One nodded and gave a weak smile. “I’m still hoping for the younger boy. We’re both small. We have a connection that way.”

“That kid’s too finicky,” Dimple said. “I wouldn’t consider him. He’s the type of kid who won’t touch us when he sees the bruises. And your bruises are worse than most.”

“He had a rougher ride than most of us,” Mentor said. “Besides, everyone’s showing bruising.”

“That’s true,” Dimple said. “I’m not telling him not to have hope, I’m just saying that his hope in that kid is misplaced. Put your hope in the dad. He’s not the type to care about bruises.”

“That’s true,” Shiny said. “He doesn’t even look at which one he takes in the morning.”

“And bruises don’t matter in a pie, either,” said Leaf Stem.

“I still say it’s going to be a long week,” Lumpy said.

Well, one thing’s for sure,” Mentor said, “as long as that other box of cookies stays unopened, we have a very good chance.”

Monday morning arrived with the usual workday routine. The dad finished a quick breakfast, and then gathered his things to go.

“Good bye, Sweetie,” he said, and kissed his wife. Then he stepped over to the basket. Without looking, he reached in and grabbed Dimple and Leaf Stem. The apples cheered.

“This is it!” Dimple shouted. “Good luck everyone!”

“Don’t give up hope, Brother!” Leaf Stem shouted to Long Stem.

Long Stem nodded and smiled sadly. “Good bye, friend.”

Then the apples were out of sight as the dad left for work.

“Two at a time!” Shiny said. “Can you imagine?”

“Dad has a pocket knife,” Spot said, “I saw it yesterday. I bet he uses it to cut out the bruises!”

“Then the bruises don’t matter!” Fat Ball said. “That’s a relief!”

“I’m telling you,” Mentor said, “things are still going our way. As long as that other box stays closed, then even the kids will come for us.” He smiled at Little One. “Even this afternoon.”

Little One nodded and smiled.

Soon the children left for school and the mom began her housework. The excitement caused by the father, and the consequent possibilities, could not dampen their hope. Even Lumpy seemed expectant. They watched the mom with mild interest and she went about her work. Toward lunchtime, she came into the kitchen to have a sandwich, and when she had finished, she went to the pantry and took out the second box of cookies. She opened the box and placed two cookies on her plate, then poured the rest into the jar by the window. The apples watched in silence as she took the cookies from the plate and went out of the kitchen.

From his place in the basket, Little One could see the jar, now full of these inanimate, spotted disks. As he stared at them, he tried to imagine the allure. How could they be so much better than apples? How could such objects replace produce of nature, lovingly and carefully cultivated to perfection? How could their mere presence dash all hope of being accepted and appreciated? He looked around the basket at the silent apples and could see the same question on their faces.

“Is it really over?” Little One whispered to Mentor.

Mentor forced a smile. “It’s never really over until it’s over. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

They waited silently for the kids to come home. The youngest came home first and took two cookies for his homework time. The older boy came home and did the same. The daughter came home and looked over the apples closely, then also had cookies. The mom came in just as the daughter replaced the lid.

“You kids need to stop eating cookies and start eating these apples,” she said.

“But they are going bad,” the daughter said.

“If you kids ate them when I first brought the home they wouldn’t go bad.”

“Words of wisdom,” Long Stem said.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Fat Ball said. “The cookies won’t spoil for a long time, yet they eat them right away.”

“We’re a gift of nature,” Spot said, “They should want to eat us first.”

“We are Washington Red Delicious apples,” Fat Ball said, almost pleading.

“The best in the world,” Shiny said.

“People used to give apples as gifts,” Long Stem said, “and were happy to receive them.”

“An apple used to be one of the sweetest things they could eat,” Spot said.

“But now they have sugar, like in those cookies, and we’re not so great,” Lumpy said. “I wish I had been graded for juice.”

“Or picked by another family that appreciated apples,” Fat Ball said.

“Or sent to another country where there weren’t so many choices,” Long Stem said. “No apple would go to waste there.”

Little One turned his attention to the window and stared at the tree outside. He thought about Mother Tree and all she had told them. She had given them a great purpose and a bounty of hope, but she never warned them of the possibility of failure. Did she even know that failure could happen to them? How much did she really know of the world outside the orchard? She had believed in them, and she had made them believe in themselves, and now it was nearly over. Most of the apples here will fail, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

As he watched the sun setting beyond the tree, and felt the warm, dying rays on his face, he felt comforted in the thought that Mother Tree would never know they had failed. She sent them away believing every one was a winner, and she would never know otherwise. He was still a winner in her heart.

The next morning all of the apples were focused intently on the dad. They eagerly watched his every move and shouted encouragement to him.

“Come on, Dad!” Long Stem called. “We’re counting on you, now!”

“You’re the true champ!” Spot shouted.

“Bring a couple extra for the guys at work!” Fat Ball said.

“You’re the man!” Mentor said.

“Come on, Dad!” Shiny called.

Finishing his preparations, the dad stepped over to the basket and studied the apples carefully. “These apples are starting to spoil. We need to eat them before they go bad.”

“I know,” the mom said. “I’m trying to get the kids to eat more of them.”

“Maybe we should stop buying cookies for awhile.”

The apples cheered wildly. Then the dad reached in and grabbed two of the apples.

“Hey! I made it!” Spot shouted. Good luck everyone!”

“Yes, good luck,” Mentor said. “Don’t worry. Things are turning around”

“Mentor!” Little One called. “Mentor!”

“Don’t lose hope, kid!” Mentor said, as he was lifted high above the basket. “You’re a shoe-in! You can’t miss!”

“Mentor!” Little One called out again. But Mentor was soon in the dad’s pocket and out of sight. Little One began to cry. It came over him suddenly with great force, a deep sobbing that shook his soul, and he didn’t even know why.

“Don’t be sad,” Shiny said. “He made it. He’ll fulfill his purpose. Be happy for him.”

“I am happy for him.”

“You don’t look happy.”

“He just lost his best friend,” Long Stem said. “That’s hard, even if he’s happy for him. I know how you feel, kid. You go ahead and cry if you want to.”

Little One did.

None of the apples looked up when the younger boy came in that afternoon. He grabbed his cookies and sat down at the table to do his homework. The older brother did the same, but took an apple also.

“Bye, friends,” said Fat Ball.

No one cheered.

“Our champ should eat two apples and one cookie,” Long Stem said.

“Or better yet, two apples and no cookie,” Lumpy said.

The daughter came in but had nothing.

Little One watched the younger boy as he concentrated on his homework. The pencil would scribble furiously, then the boy would bite on the eraser for a moment and the scribbling would begin again. As Little One watched him he felt a sadness grow in his heart for the boy. He knew now that his dreams were not going to come true, neither with this boy, nor with anyone else. He will never be enjoyed for his crisp sweetness, even though he is a Red Delicious apple from Washington. He will go to waste without anyone knowing all the great things he had to offer. He watched the boy and wished that he could make him understand what had been lost, but the boy continued his concentrating and his scribbling. He didn’t know, and he would never know. Little One watched him, until he gathered his things and went out to play.

The next morning Lumpy and Little One sat quietly as the family got up and got ready. Shiny and Long Stem watched the dad with great interest, but he left without even coming near the basket. The kids left also. They watch the mom in silence as she inspected the contents of the pantry, refrigerator and freezer, and some of the other cabinets. She carried a notepad and pencil and made and added to her list at each stop. Then she put on her shoes, took up her purse, and left the house.

The apples sat quietly for several minutes after she had gone. The first one to speak was Shiny.

“You know, I don’t think we should be sad. This is just the way of things.”

No one replied. Shiny continued.

“That’s just the way life is. Some of us make it and some of us don’t.”

“We shouldn’t have gotten our hopes up,” Long Stem said. “That’s where we went wrong.”

“Mother Tree lied to us,” Lumpy said. “That’s where we went wrong. She lied and we bought her lie.”

“I don’t believe that,” Shiny said.

“I don’t believe that, either,” Little One said.

“Mother Tree told us the truth about ourselves,” Long Stem said. “She had no control over how it played out.”

“Mother Tree didn’t lie,” Shiny said.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway,” Lumpy said.

An hour or so later the mom returned and began carrying bags of groceries inside. On her first trip a bag of apples was placed next to the basket on the table. The apples in the bag were chattering excitedly. Beyond the bag Little One could see two new boxes of cookies on the counter.

“Hey,” called one of the new apples, “get those old apples outta there and make room for us!”

Yeah,” another said, “out with the old and in with the new!”

Little One looked over at the new apples and one in particular caught his gaze. The new apple seemed happy and excited like all the others, but when he saw Little One his expression became thoughtful. They stared at each other for a short while and Little One smiled at him. Then the mother returned with her last load of groceries. She placed them on the counter and then stepped over to the table. Little One looked up to see her arms come down and grab the basket. She carried it to the waste can under the sink and poured the old apples into it. The cabinet door was shut, and everything became dark.

A pack of coyotes emerged from the tree line near the landfill and paused to sniff the air. Before them lay a mountain of fresh trash, illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. The machines of the men had become silent and the workers were gone. Around the edge of the trash mound other animals were beginning to gather from the woods. The leader of the coyotes moved forward and his pack followed him.

There were wonderful smells everywhere and the dogs fanned out across the garbage, sniffing and prodding and digging. One coyote smelled meat in a plastic bag and tore into it. She clutched a bone with her jaws and withdrew her prize. Another coyote tried to nose into the bag and she growled and nudged him hard with her shoulder. The dog backed away, but was soon joined by three others. One snapped at the bone in her mouth and she was forced away in order to keep it.

She sat down nearby and chewed the bone, crunching and swallowing every part of it. Several dogs had gathered at the trash bag and she feared there would be nothing left. She ran to where they were dragging and tearing the bag and forced one of the others away. There was little left. Other coyotes were trying to push her away, but she held firm, nosing and pawing at the contents.

Her nose found a round object that had been lying next to the meat. It still smelled like meat and she grabbed it and backed away. The other dogs saw her prize and tried to take it from her, but she turned and ran back toward the tree line. Her teeth pierced the object and a sweet liquid flowed into her mouth. It wasn’t meat, but smelled like meat. Out on the trash pile the pack had found another cache to be rifled. She wanted to investigate what she had, but didn’t want to miss out on the new find. She quickly dug a hole and dropped the object in. Covering it again with her snout, she headed out to join the others.

The seasons came and went and the apple that had been Little One dissolved into the soil, but not completely. The seeds contained in its heart remained behind, awaiting the conditions of heat and rain and cool to awaken the life inside. In time the seeds split open and roots began to feel their way around. A stem appeared and soon broke the ground. The days went by and the stem became a stalk, and the stalk became a sapling, and in due time, after years of seasons, the sapling became a tree. Flowers bloomed, and insects came, carrying the pollen of fertilization, and birds came to rest in its branches. Soon tiny apples began to appear on the branches, filling daily with juice and sweetness. They grew and ripened and caused the branches to sag with the weight of this natural treasure.

One day a doe appeared near the tree with her fawn. They were hungry, and the fruit looked good. The doe stretched upward and took an apple with her teeth. She plucked it from the branch, and another one fell to the ground near the fawn. They both ate the delicious fruit, and were grateful for the crisp sweetness.

The End