Red, Yellow and Blue--Not a Fall Color

We hurtled ourselves from the minivan to the groves of apples glistening in the bright sun. My younger sister, Rabbit, sprinted behind me as I beckoned her to hurry up. While she stopped just short of me, I saw a really juicy apple I thought would be great for the apple pie I was making tonight for one of our relative’s birthdays. I plucked it and held it down for Rabbit to examine. She looked at it and smiled up at me.                              

“How’d you like this one to go into the recipe?”  

I scanned it myself, seeing if any bruises were showing. Nope. I waited a little more for her to answer and then pursed my lips. Not that hard of a question! But as she thought, I smelled it. It smelled good—hopefully as good as the greatness of this cool, once crisp apple-picking Thursday. A hopefully perfect day to get the first ingredients of our delectable, family-beloved dessert.  

“Um…” She fiddled with her thick, tight white braid like she always did when she took some so-called extra time when she can just give me a freaking response. I wasn’t mean; I just hated waiting—especially if the answer wasn’t that hard to give.    

“Hm?” I, focusing on her, shot up my eyebrows and then turned to smelling it again, hoping to smell ripeness. “C’mon, Rabbit!” I jerked my eyes at her. Instead, she was looking behind me and threw out a pointed finger.

“Look!”

I whipped my head around and instinctively put my hand down. Before my very eyes, a black iron gate as tall as the apple trees beside us came into being. Then, as if it was being drawn by someone we didn’t see, an intimidatingly large castle was appearing right in front of us. I stared at it, my jaw dropping. A minute later, I whirled, grabbing Rabbit’s hand.

“Over here!”

I dragged her behind me, but she ran around and then clutched the iron gate, looking assumedly at the humongous monstrosity. I felt extremely weak—my legs were like jelly. I looked bravely down at my apple. It was turning dark brown and then—I jumped and threw it on the ground in horror—the beautiful red was being consumed by disgustingly ugly, putrid black greedily engulfing the once shiny, smell-good treat I no longer could turn into an apple pie. My sister screamed and clutched me. I let it fall from my hand and gave her a tight, one-armed hug, assuring her to stand back from the apple lest she’d get tangled into this evil mess. I checked my free hand and slipped my other one away from her, just to ensure I wasn’t turning to something like a statue or something else black and solid.

I heard something creaking.

“It’s the door—it’s opening!” My sister jabbed with the same finger and grabbed one of my wrists. She whimpered and then squeezed my jacketed waist.

“It’s okay.” I wanted her to be brave. I patted her dark purple coat and said, “It’s just a gate.” Secretly, I was really scared. But I stayed strong for Rabbit. So she wouldn’t bolt away to the car, crying for Mommy. In fact, I turned around and looked at it. But I felt it was just something that was plastered on a gigantic set that looked real but you could also tell it was fake. Just a picture.

I turned back to the gate. Rabbit was right—it was open. I wished Rabbit was older—though I’d never admit it—and was tempted to stand there and stare at the row of bushes standing almost as high as the gate’s pointed bars. But I held Rabbit’s hand tightly so she wouldn’t get too scared, and crossed through the gate. I gazed all around, feeling a little claustrophobic as both bushes on either side went on and on. After a while, I wondered, How long is this path? Did it stretch forever? Will we reach the castle, and if we do, will we be captured?

These thoughts took me away from reality, but when the sound of Rabbit’s Converse sneakers treading the flattened grass beneath my plastic dark blue flats, I guessed we should keep going. When we finally reached the end, we saw some dogs that looked a little like they were warning us to beware of something or someone inside the castle. I squinted a little and really peered at them. I felt they were at least aware I was there. But Rabbit almost yanked my arm and begged me to hurry. So I scurried along, still feeling suspicious but also wanting to just see what was in this new world and then leave.

The apple came to mind, and I started to get cold. My hands turned wrinkly with clamminess and I looked back, almost wanting to go straight back to the car, apple or no apple. However, a strange sense of adventure came over me, and I grasped Rabbit’s hand. “Come on!” I enthused. She bobbed her head yet gulped.  

We ran inside an illuminated archway and met some guards. They stood far apart from each other, each owning a deadly-looking spear and decked in leather from their necks to their leather boots. I was afraid they’d suddenly shoot their spears towards each other like they do in the movies when an intruder interrupts, or a disguised figure strives to deceive them. However, when I slipped by them, Rabbit squelching my hand and whispering we shouldn’t do this thing, I couldn’t help the excitement of adventure sizzling through me. So I just bolted with her in tow around towards a flight of stairs.

I couldn’t believe it! We passed them with no resistance.

Suddenly, we stopped dead a couple of stairs up. Two German Shepherds were up at the top, blocking the stair between our flight and the next one above. They weren’t growling or anything—just standing there and panting. But I felt as I looked into their eyes that they were loyal guard dogs that just wouldn’t disobey their master or mistress—whoever owned this colossal home. I, shaking a little, stepped up. Still panting. I, emboldened, chanced another and then another and then beckoned Rabbit on. The two dogs were either oblivious or too loyal to do anything. We slowly, warily climbed the stone steps.

I would check to see whether Rabbit hadn’t run off somewhere while I investigated the second floor. She didn’t, surprisingly. I saw hallways lined with what looked like jail cells and bed chambers. These latter doors were bolted shut, but I could tell they were where the servants or guests slept because they had open rectangular windows where I could see the twin or single beds with fluffed pillows and comforters pulled up to the headboard. I yawned and asked Rabbit if she’d like to possibly sleep here.

“No!” She screeched and buried her face into me. I then felt wetness form onto my jacket and she pulled away, lines of water streaked down her face and water droplets falling from her jaw. “No. Can we just go home?” She begged, her voice going up into a whine. This abomination of a temper tantrum happened when Rabbit wouldn’t have it. Which was a lot.

I looked down the hallway of chambers and jail cells. I privately agreed I didn’t want to sleep next to jail cells full of assumedly threatening, deadly people with knives or axes hitched to their waists or belts. But I was tired. I didn’t want to go home. Yet I also wanted to explore the castle. I needed to know why that apple had turned black all of a sudden. What made it rot?

“I want to figure out why that apple evolved from recipe delicacy to horrifyingly disgusting. Come on, let’s go.” I searched all the rooms—none of the jail cells had anyone in them, and hunted for someone to satisfy my appetite for answers. Was it magic? Did someone cause a spell to be cast over the apple groves so whoever picked them would soon face severe consequences? Did the apples even belong to this castle? Was I an intruder?

All sorts of questions started flooding in, pushing these ones to the forefront of my mind. Finally going to the guards to satisfy my inquiries, I ignored the dogs. I was a little confused. After several serene attempts to get these abysmal guards to speak, I balled my fists and then flattened them, desperate to get some answers in this abandoned castle. Why were the German Shepherds just standing there, panting at the top of our flight of stairs? Why were guards the only people around? Who owned this castle? Why was it abandoned?

Most important of all: why didn’t the guards stop us? Why didn’t the German Shepherds stop us?

I took advantage of where we were and exited the castle, running around a stone-grey wall and seeing with mixed feelings of fear and almost relief a man leaning against the archway wall, one foot on the ground and another on the wall. He looked like he was a jester or young boy of nobility. Was he the prince?

“Excuse me.”

We bowed before him. He wasn’t even doing anything but picking at his fingernails. I cocked my head. Was I standing before royalty, or someone dressing up as such? I scrunched my face and then shook my head, smirking. Where was I?

He looked away, but I stomped a foot and pressed him. He didn’t answer. Finally, I called, “Excuse me!” He jumped but ripped away, shooing me with a hand.

Now about to punch something, I jerked back to the apple groves. Then I started to realize that maybe the black apple represented confusion, wonder and abandonment. That because I picked it, I was taking something away from someone. So I was getting what I deserved by being abandoned, confused and frustrated. I wasn’t getting my answers. No one talked to me. I was searching really for nothing. I was lost. Because I had decided to lose myself in confusion, frustration and neglect by stealing.

Stealing? I didn’t steal! I merely plucked an apple off an apple orchard tree. Nothing wrong with that.

“But,” a voice spoke. I jumped and twirled around.

“You! Are you the one that knew I picked the apple?” I started shooting questions at him like a water hose sprays water out of its nozzle.

“No. What apple?”

I stared a minute. He asked like he was genuine and not rude like almost all young princes in fairytales.   

“The apple—” I pointed a finger opposite me towards the groves. “Over there. I was over there with her.” I then pulled Rabbit in front of me and introduced her. She smiled small and then looked down. He said hi.

“So you want to know why the apple turned bad?”

“Yeah!” I gasped. “I mean, yes, I do.”

He laughed. “Don’t mind how you talk to me. I’m not any prince or anything.” He walked closer. “I’m not from around here.” Then he bent forward a little. “Actually, I ran away from my shed of a home a little while ago. I didn’t belong. My adoptive parent decided to have me tend to the farm. I didn’t want to slave away under his stupid orders any more than he wanted to see me defy his authority. So I ditched everything and here I am.” He shrugged and laughed, a merry chuckle. “I’m the—”

“Prince of this place now!” I laughed, too. But I kept a wary eye on Rabbit. Any wrong move, and we’re making a run back for the apple orchards.

But as time went on, I forgot all about the apple orchards and got all my answers. We discussed the castle and how the German Shepherds were his pets now. In a way, the prince told me, I was the new princess to rule this kingdom. I actually slapped my knee as I guffawed out loud. Rabbit even joined in with a shy giggle behind a small hand. I slapped her on the back and told her to really laugh. The prince called me a comedian. I grinned, my fears and confusion having died.

The prince didn’t tell me his name, but he did let me call me Prince. So I did. And I also laughed at his jokes (and he mine) and we became, I guess, friends. But I felt reality wanting me home. So I told the prince that I needed to get back home because I was making an apple pie for someone’s birthday tonight. “It’s their birthday.” I wrung my hands. “I need to get back and save them from a pie-less night!”

The prince roared and I giggled to save my head from getting chopped off. But when he started to grow serious again, he told me that he was no ordinary, stuffy, arrogant, selfish, vain prince in the fairytales. He didn’t care that I didn’t laugh. So I didn’t. I actually surprised myself and just went along with whatever manner he felt like displaying. And I liked it!

“Don’t worry about the birthday party. Come with me!” He treaded from the grass onto the stone ground in the door less castle where the guards still stood as still as…guards? I laughed to myself at this inner thought and suggested to Rabbit that we could possibly stay here a little longer. But Rabbit tugged on my belt and wailed that we should be making apple pie by now!

“Just a little while.”

But a little while became hours, as I became immersed in this prince’s world of German Shepherds, guards, enemy jail cells, guest bed chambers, the gardens, fountains, statues, pools, walkways, parks, dining hall, ballrooms, ballet rooms, tennis and racket courts, dungeons, dragon lairs, seemingly never ending forest, kitchens, fireplaces, lounges, mills, horse and zebra stalls and his favorite spot—the cave of his pet dragon.

“Scales, are you awake?”

He had taken a torch hanging in a knotted rope on the side, and it instantly lit when fire blasted from across the cave, illuminating it. Rabbit squealed and walked closely with me.

“So this is where he or she lives?” We were following him, and he nodded. I queried some more, and he commanded me to stop and observe.

“Then all your questions will be answered at once.” He advised.

Was he some wise prince? I took in the damp, dripping, salagtite-decorated home of this huge flying lizard we came to admire in the firelight. He was emerald with bits of lemon yellow shining from the tip of his tail. Beautiful but intimidating, the dragon rose up and showed off a stream of fire that would’ve fried Rabbit and me alive if we were in the way. Thankfully, we were standing beside the prince on the right side of the stream of burning red and yellow heat.  

Rabbit hung out with a couple of unicorns and their offspring a little ways away from the cave. As she laughed and called out to me to watch the mare, Rainbow, gallop while she encouraged it to carry her in a circle, I waved to her and continued with the prince as we were discussing his dragon’s family and his own family. Our campfire crackled and popped.

He looked down, blinked and sniffed.

“Your grace,” I struggled to show respect. “Are you alright?”

He wiped at his eyes and looked up, exhaling. “Like my pet, I lost my real family a while ago. That’s why the castle was abandoned and still is. That’s why I was adopted and ran away. To find my real family. But it was too late—they got attacked by enemy kingdoms and murdered. It’s just me now. And Scales. And my German Shepherds.” He paused. “The dogs were owned my birthparents, but the dogs couldn’t save my family. They tried, the guards assured me. But they couldn’t—I don’t know why. They became my only real family besides Scales. So I adopted them.”  

I blinked, sighed and nodded understandingly. I too had suffered, but I never really was affected by it in a tragic way. So I didn’t know what to say. I just said what I felt was necessary.

“Rabbit lost her beloved twin sister when I was fourteen years old. She had just graduated from elementary school. She never made it to middle…”   

Time seemed to comfort us as we moved on to the dining hall. Eating supper was a pleasure, but I felt I was dragging Rabbit all over the place.

“Please stay.” He begged.

I looked at Rabbit.

She gave a firm nod. “I don’t want to be bullied at school anymore.”

I turned to the prince and slowly nodded, my eyes telling him another thing. Maybe for a time. But not forever.

However, forever seemed to be the answer as the prince and I raised Rabbit from a girl to a woman. We lived in that castle for many, many years, witnessing the birth of Scales and Firelight’s first baby.

But deep down, I again wondered about that rotted apple.

“Why do you want it?”

“Because I want to use it for something good. Maybe it can turn into clothing or something.”

“Go get it.”

Searching in some of the library’s heavy scrolls for why the apple had turned bad, I finally managed to find something about it. But it gave me no real answers. Digging my nails into it, I then tried seeing if it was soggy. But puncturing it was no go, for my thumbs just bounced off its hardness.   

After weeks, my mind never seemed to remember it again. But some reason, I still believed that apple deserved a story, despite my husband’s admonitions about it.