Apples

Being a kid was great!! Being a kid for me was especially great because I got to experience new things all the time. I remember when I was five, my dad (Carl) chased me down the road because I took apples from the neighbor's tree. I remember laughing so hard with a shirt full of apples and wondering how in the world my dad, who I had never seen run before was keeping up with the fastest five year old on the planet. I ran down Union St. where I lived in a little two bedroom green house that used to serve as medical quarters at the fairgrounds during WWII until they were moved and reconditioned as homes. Our house had a little detached garage that with a gust of wind my blow down but we all knew the big pine tree was holding it up. Back to the story, when I reached the end of Union St. I had three options... I could go straight into the open field where there was room for a hundred horses to run with a little house that sat there. A blind lady lived there and once a week her son would bring her groceries. Today was grocery day so I couldn't cut through their field. So, I turned left onto Woodlawn Ave. where I dodged broken sidewalks. The kind of sidewalks that had been lifted by massive roots from the trees next to them. As I ran, I remember thinking I had to jump one bump in the sidewalk then quickly dodge a low hanging branch all the while hearing the thunderous pounding steps of my dad who was drawing closer. Just as he was getting close I remembered that the fastest way to get away from an alligator is to turn a lot. As a five year old your imagination comes in handy in times of need I'm sure. As my imagination jolted my brain into telling my legs to take a left there was a low fence that I quickly hopped and continued into the alley behind our house. As if my dad wasn't human he hopped the fence in stride and drew closer but he didn't anticipate another alligator evading move. As he reached for me I took a quick right into the trailer park bobbing and weaving between each trailor. As I was running, I didn't realize I was leaving a trail for my dad to track me; apples were falling from my shirt. I stopped to rest for a minute panting while wiping sweat from my head and with my hands brushing my thick curly brown hair away from my forehead and ears. I still remember the wind hitting those hot sweating spots beneath my air (what a feeling). In all my confidence of beating my dad in a foot race over apples I forgot one thing; I had to go home at some point. I sat forever wondering when I should return. My take for the day didn't end up being as fruitful (no pun intended) as it had began... I was down to one apple. I decided since I didn't have anywhere else to go that a return trip home was inevitable. I walked a slow walk home enjoying that apple to the core. As I made my way around our rickety garage I tossed the apple core to our dog Toby who was tied up next to the garage under the pine tree (more about Toby later). Just as I turned away from Toby, my dad grabbed me and spanked me for the apple incident and for making him run where he probably tore something I'm sure...if not a body part his pride from not catching me for the first time ever. My dad spanked me that night. It was the only time in my life he spanked me. He never spanked me again and believe me, I gave him plenty good reason to. What was it anyway that got my dad so fired up over the apples? Apples that grew from the earth on a tree. They weren't from a store. They were from the neighbors tree and besides the neighbor never seemed to complain as far as I knew. I know now that the apples are not what got my dad fired up. It was that he asked me not to take any apples from the neighbors tree and I did. It was because at five he was trying to teach me a life long lesson of respecting other peoples property. I wish I could go back to that day and ask my dad that if I always respect other people will they respect me and if they don't, can I chase them down Union St., left on Woodlawn, left in the alley, through the trailor park, and then wait for them to return home to give them my own thumping. That's not the point though. I don't know if my dad remembers that story but I do. I remember more today than ever because as an adult there are a lot of people who take your "apples" for no good reason. The differences are that their parents aren't there to tell them if it's right or wrong and they don't have the guidance or innocence of childhood to feel bad.