You've heard of Johnny Appleseed, now get ready for Bryon BananaPeal.
(My friend inspired this by pulling six bananas out of ONE coat pocket and offering them to me and another friend)
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People across the countryside looked out their open windows every morning hoping to catch a glimpse of the man of myth. They wanted to see Johnny Appleseed and his pot on his head come by. Ever since his death though, no mythical man has come to claim Johnny's spot. Nobody has roamed across the country as he did planting apple trees.
It's been told around my family for years how my great-great-great-great-great grandmother was able to meet the famous man and hear his tales and travels. She passed it down to her children who continued it down the line all the way to me. Along with her meetings with him, she also passed down the information to us that he confided in her that he had a child. This gave hope to my family that one of his descendants would follow along his path and that one of us would come across them.
It was her last hope once the most interesting man in her life moved away and continued on his quest to plant apple trees. It was definitely strange, and I couldn't even begin to think where that person would be. We were beginning to think that her dream had died a long time ago.
Until it happened.
It was a cold December day, and I was shivering as I waited for the bus stop. The bus stops are never enclosed, and no matter how much I layer up, I'm always cold. I was cold and getting hungry, but the bus wasn't coming. The bus schedule was written on the back of my phone case, and I knew they were running today. But I've waited for 30 minutes, and the scheduled bus didn't show up.
A man appeared out of the distance. His red scarf swirled around him in the wind, and the collar of his winter coat trembled. He came closer to me, and he placed a fedora on his head, bringing it down to cover his eyes from the bitter cold. The man stopped not even six feet in front of me. He looked at the ground and pulled his gloved hands out of his pockets.
"You look in need of a banana young lady," he said, looking up and tipping the brim of his hat up.
"I'm sorry what?" I sputtered out. Why the hell would I want a banana? Why would he ask?
"Did you know that bananas are very nutritious and good for you? They're rich in potassium and have protein and dietary fibers," he replied, sitting down next to me on the bench. I looked over at him with a confused look on my face. Why this man high?
"I know what bananas are good for. Why are you asking me if I want a banana?"
"You look like you need a banana. I haven't seen any banana trees around here." He muttered that last part to himself before smacking himself across the face. "Pardon me! I haven't even introduced myself! I'm Bryon BananaPeel." What. The. Fuck.
"Is that your real name?" I asked. I know it isn't. It's the fakest name I've ever heard.
"Why of course it is! My family is full of strange names!" he replies with a smile. "It's a family tradition." 'That's a strange family tradition,' I thought to myself.
"Okay well, we don't have banana trees here. We're in America; banana trees grow in tropical places like the Caribbean and South America."
"Well wouldn't ya know," he mumbles. He began to whistle a tune while reaching into his pocket. This man was making me nervous. I was sure that he was on something or that he was insane. "Take this banana for me would ya. Eat it or try to grow some trees like I do." He handed me a ripe banana and tipped his hat in farewell. "Spread the word Bryon BananaPeel is spreading the love of bananas."
I watched as the man got up to leave. As he passed people on the road, he continued to pull out bananas from his coat pockets and hand them to him. We all shared confused glances with each other, and some people through them away. I kept mine to show my family so they would believe me. My bus came, and I road home thinking about the strange man and his bananas. But mostly, I thought about how I finally fulfilled my great-great-great-great-great grandmother's dream.
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A Short Story Collection #Wattys2018
Short Story***NO LONGER RECEIVING NEW UPDATES; DISCONTINUED*** I'm in a writing class, and we do writing exercises where we write a short story in about fifteen minutes or less. I've decided to put together the short stories I've done on Wattpad. I've also r...
