I Picked a Peach

Rudy and Celeste woke early in the frigid house, on an icy bed. He leaned over and kissed Celeste on the cheek and quoted one of his favorite films, based on a Waltons’ Christmas. “I picked a peach when I came a courting you girl.” Celeste smiled at him but hurriedly whipped out of bed. She had planned this trip early and could not stand for delays. This morning, they were going to pick up her niece Natalee and carry her around the famous apple orchard they had heard so much about. Apparently, Stephen King’s family owned it and Rudy, having a proclivity for all things creepy wondered if there would be a dolled up Pennywise waiting to scare the apple seekers.

           Celeste fussed most of the morning, wanting everything to be perfect. This included her hair, outfit, breath, how Rudy held his coffee cup and the exact moment when they would be leaving. “Ready mom?” She yelled up the stairs to the aging mother Susan, or as Rudy called her, “Mama Sue.”

           “I’ve been ready since seven this morning! I had the coffee going, took a shower, read the paper, brought home the bacon and fried it up in the pan!” she hollered down to her youngest daughter.

           “Hey Darling? Could you do me a favor?” Rudy asked while tying his shoes.

           “Yes, what is it?” she smiled at him, pseudo-exasperated, “You’re always asking me for favors.”

           “Could you pass me that hat? I need to cover up this bed head as soon as possible.”

           “Sure.” She handed him the hat, but she disagreed completely. His hair was dark and soft, and she would never choose a hat over his warm chocolate locks.

           Rudy sat in the back seat of the old rusted Jeep. Susan drove, which always made Rudy wildly uncomfortable. He had a hard time forgetting about the time when Sue had drifted fully over the yellow line, going downhill, around a corner, into on coming traffic and thinking, “This is how I go?” but the drive through western Maine was nicer than he expected, being a south Utah native he was welcomed to the New England state with wind, rain, and vibrant shades. The trees were aflame with burnt orange and blood red leaves mixed and tousled with the amber yellow to make his visit a whirlwind of color. Little houses zipped by at the forty-five-mile clip in the twenty-five zone.

           They arrived at Celeste’s elder sister’s house and she handed over baby Natalee with a fervent appreciation. As soon as the child was in her sister’s arms she slumped down and within minutes of them exiting the driveway she fell asleep on the couch quiet and contented.

           The baby sat in the back with Celeste and Rudy moved to the front happy to have the window open to combat his ever-present car sickness. Rudy listened to the two of them bickering and the baby slept soundly against the piercing words of the mother and daughter. It was obvious they loved each other.

           As the car rounded a bend and up an arching hill a small handmade sign read, “Lovell Orchard. Apples and Peaches for $5 a bag/box.” The sign’s paint was chipped and there were small segments of the rotted wood that sloughed off from the original product. At the top of the hill sat a small, squat building and aside it lay a curved parking lot which the crew toddled into.

           Being on the top of a hill Rudy saw that his world was transformed into an alien planet. Leaves of fire swirling around the hill. The sky was hued a soft blue that brimmed with ivory clouds and the soft sun that drifted in the sky barely kissed their faces. The people walked around the orchard carefully to avoid each other, primarily not to ruin photos, the second concern the ominous and present pandemic. These were odd, tumultuous times, and yet people still wanted to walk around an apple orchard and enjoy the fall heat while it lasted.

           Rudy had not noticed that Celeste had absented from him while he took in the world. When she returned, she held two warm cups of amber liquid. The smell of cinnamon steam drifted into his brain reminding him of one cold Flagstaff winter he had experienced in college. The hot apple cider was something he had only had once before. He sipped it carefully as not to burn himself. He felt the warmth slide down him warming his innards and preparing him for the slow trundle through the crisp orchard, but the sun, still just waking up looked forward to its job and he would warm them soon.

           He followed a half step behind Celeste who held the small creature Natalee. She was a cute baby, with a few chiclets popping into her otherwise gummy smile. Her hair, what little there was, was warm and fiery as the autumn leaves and the wind wisped it as if it was an old man’s toupee. One of her ears was a bit folded over, not to the point of deformation, just to that of asymmetry and it gave her incredible character of the face.

           He liked the look of his darling love carrying the child who peaked playfully over her shoulder. He thought about when he was going to marry her constantly but today, he could not help but fixate on the subject, all else was a distraction.

           They walked down two dirt tire tracks, a thin ribbon of green and brown grasses weaving their way down the tractor road and deep into the orchard. The trees were stout for the most part and it was easy to reach the apples they desired. Celeste picked one and took a bite, her face squeezed into an impossible portrait. “They’re sour!”

           Rudy smiled at her, and shook his head slightly pointing toward the base of the tree. A small sign that had fallen over read, “Not Ripe. Don’t Pick.” He smiled and both their heads turned right side up. When she did, she kissed the baby Natalee on the head and the trio continue down the lonely lane.

           At the far end of the orchard a section was marked, “Peaches.”

           Rudy had carried the empty pear box most of the walk wondering where they might be. Celeste noticed his fingers fiddled and wove some soft morning grass together. He was always doing that, he seemed obsessed with it this morning.

“Trade with me.” Celeste said, handing Natalee to him. She skipped toward the pears, the edges of her yellow sundress bouncing lightly in the now pressing sun. She looked back at him.

           He stood, tall and strong. Working in a nursery for most of his life he had loaded and unloaded hundreds of trucks gifting him with impressive strength, yet his hands were intricate machines capable of creating intense floral arrangements for every occasion. His torso was strong accentuated by the fitting green and gold flannel that Mama Sue had gifted him the day before. Celeste loved Rudy endlessly and she was always happy with him. She was never bored. Seeing him with her niece he looked easy, she had observed other men shy away from infants and she enjoyed watching him with her. The baby liked him and would stare at his brown eyes as if she were in a trance. He smiled hard down to Celeste, his eyes almost disappearing at the distance she was at. She loved that smile.

           They worked away at filling their bag of apples and their box of peaches. The paper container shone with a red and yellow color equal to that of the leaves about them peaches sat nestled and content in their box, the fuzz on them soft and comforting.

           Sue had waited in the car and met them at the small, squat building where they had begun. She held a pizza in her arms and was excited to head back home and eat it, she also threatened to bake a peach galette. Rudy had never heard of such a thing, but the pizza smelled like something wafting from a McDonald’s box, “What is it?” he asked.

           “They said it was a Big Mac on pizza.”

           “Do me a favor?” he looked over at Celeste, “Don’t let me eat that…I’ll get addicted.”

           Rudy and Celeste looked at each other equally confused at the statement, unsure of what Mama Sue was getting them into. They handed Natalee off to her and Celeste told her that she had left her scarf somewhere in the orchard. Rudy thought that something was missing from her person.

           They walked hand in hand, retracing their steps through the orchard. People milled around like zombies, without real purpose other than enjoyment.

           The two stumbled down the last hill where the peaches had been and searched for her scarf. It was the color of seafoam, and it hung loosely on one of the trees. A kind soul must have spied it and tied the scarf up to be found.

           Rudy watched as she untied the knot. Her fingers deft instruments that erred very little, if at all. She whipped the scarf off the tree brushing off a few small chunks of green moss and rough bark that clung to its new companion. Now was the time. He could wait no longer. He struck his knee into the ground smashing into a disguised rock which made him wince with considerable pain which he attempted to hide.

           “What wrong?” She asked, not yet having turned.

           “Nothing at all. Everything is just right…Could you do me a favor?”

           “What’s that?”

           “Marry me?” 

           She turned quickly and saw him there with a small circlet of green. The wrapped grass he had been fiddling with now lay in his palm looking up at her. He wore that smile she adored so much. It was no favor that he was asking, it was her honor to perform such an act, but she would never let him know it.

           “Oh, I suppose,” she said a coy manner, taking the blades from his hand.

           “I’ll get you a real one, I promise.” He said, “You know, my father asked my mother with a paper clip.”

           “I love you.” She said.

           “And I you.”