A Peach Tree; Part One

There it was. I couldn’t believe it. 

The house was blue-green but dampened down a bit, and surrounded by three other houses. It was only one story, and not very big either. The yard was unkempt, as the grass was around 4 inches high and could swallow you whole. You couldn’t even see inside the windows because they were so soiled. The three houses around it formed a square, and in the backyard stood a single tree. A useless, pathetic apple tree. No, it was a different fruit, but I couldn’t see what kind. The neighborhood around it was dusty, too. All the houses were old and small, and the yards unmowed because I’m guessing no one had the time to fix them up, or maybe they just didn’t care. 

Mom and I sat in the car, parked in the cracked driveway, and just stared at it. I knew what was going on in Mom’s head. She loved it.

“Isn’t it. . .” she studied it a moment more, “just. . .?”

I said “Awful,” but she said “Lovely.”

Mom looked at me, confusion struck all over her tired face. 

“Wonderful. I said wonderful,” I lied, only saying that to make her happy. Mom’s face brightened and she observed the house again. “Isn’t this a great home to stay in for the summer?” she asked me.

Sure, it was better than the apartment. But not by much. At least at our old apartment, I had Claire and Allah, my two best friends. My school was incredible too, I even had the best teachers. The city was great and fun and we were never bored. So when Mom announced we would move this summer, I couldn’t help but dread the moment.  

But here we were, in our little bronze 2001 car, parked at our new house. It was a house, but not a home. To me, at least.

“Alright, let’s gidee up our stuff and move on in!” Mom said cheerfully, opening the cab door and stepping out. I sighed heavily and followed her.

We opened the trunk and started carrying the boxes one by one into the house. 

I screamed when Mom opened the red maroon door.

“What?! What is it?!” she asked, and looked around, scared there might be a dead person or whatnot. 

“IT’S A DEAD MOUSE!” I screeched and pointed to the dead mouse in the corner of the hallway, then hopped back at least ten feet. Even from here as I shook out my nerves I could see Mom sighing and shaking her head. 

I didn’t even get a good look at the inside of the house before I saw that mouse. Mom quickly discarded it with a shovel so I could come inside without the fear of getting rabies. 

“Is it safe now?” I peeped, taking a single step closer.

“Yes Jen, you’re fine,” Mom said and picked up a box again. 

After a while, I decided I should actually go inside my new house. As I expected, the inside walls were paint-chipped, the floors were dirty, the rooms were dusty, and the kitchen was just plain awful. Missing cabinets. Broken hinges. Cracked islands. No fridge. Mom couldn’t care less, because she was the type of person that could see potential. 

Mom saw potential in everything. Me, the house, everything. Everybody always looked up to her, admired her, wanted to be like her. I did, too, but sometimes she could really get annoying. Like for instance, liking this dumb house. Sometimes I wondered why she was always positive, or always caring. It didn’t make much sense to me. Bad things have happened to us, but somehow, she’s always kept her spirit. And I don’t know if it will ever die. But I’ve always known there was some part of her that died, even if she won’t admit it. I know something happened to her when Dad died. Yet still, she’s gotten back up on her feet, as if nothing happened. 

“Oh my. . .” she said breathlessly, taking in all the “wonders” around her. “It’s unlike anything I imagined!”

“That’s for sure,” I muttered under my breath, and luckily Mom didn’t hear. 

“Yes. . .yes. . .” Mom nodded over and over again as if she were putting puzzle pieces together and understood where they went. 

I left Mom to do her thing and tried to go upstairs to the attic. Yes, I tried. The ladder was so loose I was afraid the wooden bars might collapse at any moment. There must have been another way up, then, but how?

I searched around for any clues. A staircase? Another ladder? I didn’t see anything. All I saw was that trapdoor up on the ceiling, just begging me to open it. Then I noticed it needed a key, so even if I managed to get up there, I wouldn’t have been able to open it. 

In frustration, I kicked a small rock that was just laying in the house innocently and grunted.

Mom probably heard me so she yelled, “Hey, hon? Why don’t you go outback? Maybe you can find something to do out there.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave in. I was bored. Might as well check out that apple tree. 

I headed to the back door and unlocked it, then swung it open and stepped outside.

The grass was long, just like the front yard. Nothing special really struck me about the backyard. No fences or anything, just three other houses surrounding that tree in the middle. It was quite the bore.

But then I saw something by the tree. I saw red hair and a green sweater. Jeans and sneakers, too. Somebody was at the tree. I was guessing it was someone that lived in one of the other houses, but I wasn’t sure. Should I say hi? It was rude to spy on people. So, I walked a bit closer to the person (girl, I’m guessing) until I saw something strange about her. She was talking… but to whom? There was no one else around, or at least not to my knowledge. Then I saw it. She was talking to a squirrel. 

Surprised, I stood there, just watching her. Was it rude to say I thought she was odd? I mean, people talk to animals, right? Snow White did. And she’s famous. I think…

Go on, make some friends. You can’t be alone all summer, I heard Mom’s voice in the back of my head. Well, she was right. Might as well make some friends I guess… like some animal-talking friends.

I started walking some more until my foot stepped on a twig. It broke, and this startled the girl (I was right), and she scurried up.

“Wait!” I shouted after her. “I won’t hurt you.”

The girl stopped and looked at me. I’m guessing she found truth in my eyes so she didn’t move. She was whispering to herself, perhaps some confident words? 

“Hi,” I said. 

She walked back to the tree, ever so slowly. The girl waved a tiny wave and sat down.

“I’m Jen. Jennifer. My friends call me Jen,” I said, and realized what I was saying was stupid, so I stopped talking altogether. 

“I’m. . .Daisy,” she peeped, but I could hardly hear her.

I slowly crept closer, until finally, I sat right next to her. Daisy looked scared, but I know she knew I wasn’t a threat. I wouldn’t tease her about the animals.

“You’re pretty,” Daisy tells me. I slightly blushed.

“Thank you. I got most of the looks from my mom,” I replied. Mom had long dark brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes that could put you in a trance. I got some of her brown hair, but my blue-green eyes from Dad. I didn’t tell her this, because I didn’t want her to know. Especially anything about Dad.

“Daisy, what house do you live in?” I asked.

“That one,” Daisy points to the yellow house across from us. It looks just like mine, but a light shade of yellow instead of blue. 

“Oh. Cool.”

“You just moved, right?” Daisy asked me.

I nodded.

Daisy is the shy type, there's no doubt about it. Her red hair, green eyes, freckles, small body. She’s tiny, but I don’t know her age. She looks around thirteen, maybe twelve.

“Do you know who lives in the other houses?”

Daisy thought for a moment then nodded. “One boy and girl in that house,” she points to a red maroon one on the right, “and another boy with an older brother. But he’s moved out,” she points to the greenish house on the left. “I’ve never talked to them.”

Strange. 

“Thanks. What are their ages?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.”

There was silence. I’m not sure what else to bring up.

“Peach?” Daisy suddenly hands me a pink peach. It looks delicious. Then I realize, this whole tree is full of peaches. It’s a peach tree. 

I took the peach and bit it. Mmm. It’s juicy and sweet, and overall amazing. The peach swooshes in my mouth, the flavor making my tongue tickle. I smiled. It’s was a really good peach.

“You like it?” Daisy asked with a grin.

“Mmm. Oh yeah,” I say, my mouth full of peach. Maybe I like this tree more than I thought. 

“This tree grows them. Some of the best peaches I’ve ever had,” Daisy said, looking up at the pretty tree. 

“They’re amazing!” I wiped my mouth of juice. I noticed something in the corner of my eye. It’s a boy. He’s looking out the window of the green house. When he knows I see him, he hurriedly ducks. Odd.

“Did you see that…?” I ask, still looking at the green house.

Daisy looked in the direction I’m eyeing, and shrugged. “No.”

The boy must have been spying on us. But why? He can come and talk to us. Maybe he’s shy, too.

“Wanna go ask if the boy in the green house wants to come out?” 

“Um. . .” I can tell Daisy is hesitant, and she doesn’t really want to. But she’s willing to, for me, even if she is shy. “O-okay. But why?”

“I want to meet him,” I reply.

~~

End of Part One