The Jeweled Box

Chapter 4- Apples

                   After what felt like eternity, I peeked out from under the table, eyes closed.  I took a deep breath, eyes still shut to protect me from becoming scarred for life- again. “Get a room!” I finally shouted, scowling. I opened my eyes.

                   The couple looked down at me, almost surprised I was still there. “This is a room, honey.” Calvin winked at me.

                   I rolled my eyes humorlessly and stated simply, “I’m going upstairs. And I’m not going to San Francisco.”   I stomped up the stairs, upset. I slammed my bedroom door and locked myself in.  Sitting down in front of the door, I glanced at the picture on my bedside table. It was a framed image of my parents and I under the old apple tree on the outskirts of our large property.  Suddenly, a small detail caught my eye that I had never noticed before.  Peering at it closely, I was confused to recognize it as the edge of a boy’s messed-up hair-do.  My mind did not ponder it for long, but instead moved onto my biggest problem.

                   I felt tears prick my eyes, but I blinked them away. It had been long time since I had really cried. Ever since my dreadful experience in the storm, I had learned crying doesn’t help with anything; I just had to deal with it. Just this time, I really didn’t want to.

                   I turned up my iPod speakers, in hopes of taking my mind off of the events to come.

                   “Going back to the corner, where I first saw you,” I sang softly, “Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I’m not gonna move…”

                   That song is so sad, I thought. He’s waiting on somebody who probably will never come. Operation Distraction is complete.

                   Bad thought. I was thinking about it again. Even though I had left my foster parents telling them I wouldn’t move, I knew I would have to if that was their decision.  I walked up to my curtains and stood in front of them eyes closed. It had been a long time since I had had to do this to get away from everything.

                   I opened the closed violet curtains and slid the glass window open.  Carefully, I applied a slight amount of pressure to two points on the screen protecting my room from the outside world.  The screen popped out of its frame, and the cold night air blasted into my room. Small raindrops fell onto my window ledge. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away.

                   I turned away from the tempting darkening sky, smirking at my thoughts.  I unmade my bed, and stuffed some extra pillows down the sheets. I was going to pull the oldest trick in the book.  I turned toward my window, but hesitated.  Opening my closet, I pushed aside all my coats and jackets to reveal an old overcoat in the very back.  I pulled out my father’s old coat.  I wrapped myself in the trench coat and once again turned back to my window. This time I would leave.

                   I hopped onto the ledge, pulling myself out onto the roof.  I would use the old ladder from the shed to get back up.  Taking a deep breath of the cool air, an slowly crawled down the side of the house and onto the dirt road.  Once onto the path, I ran.  I ran until I had left all my problems away.  I came to a stop in front of the old apple tree at the outskirts of my parents land.  The old apple tree was still strong, its broad leaves protecting the innermost part of the tree. I scaled the smooth bark and curled up in the middle of my sanctuary in between the branches. 

                   I looked up at Dad, who was smiling down at me. I grinned back at him.  I looked past his smiling face, and saw a shiny, glistening apple. My face scrunched up in determination as I tried to reach the apple. Dad chuckled and gently pulled the sturdy branch down towards the ground and into my reach. I laughed and grabbed the apple, adding it to the pile on the ground next to me. Mother was baking apple pie and Dad and I both could smell it from here. I heard his voice saying, “Let’s go, Arika!”

                   I heard echoes of his voice in my head, encouraging me through a memory. Suddenly, it all clicked: the head in the picture, the purposely messed up hair, the boy it belonged to.

                   I looked down at the pile of apples. A few were missing! I glared at the pile, almost as if trying to will the apples to reappear. Silently fuming, I reached up to pick another apple. Seeing a slight movement, I quickly spun on my heel to catch a glimpse of a dark-haired boy hiding behind a tree. I tugged on my Dad’s sleeve and stomped over to the tree marching around it.  Hiding behind the trunk was a young boy, a little older than me.

                   His dark brown hair reminded me of the chocolate my mother purchased for me as a treat every now and then. He was probably a little tall for his age, and his skin was lightly tanned, as though he had been out in the sun without sunblock on for a while.  I noticed that his face was slightly angular and that he had light brown, almost golden eyes. He almost looked slightly scared. Almost. 

                   At his feet were the cores of the missing apples. I glared at him. He crossed his arms as if to be defiant, his light eyes glinting with mischief.  I scowled, placing my hands on my hips sassily. Nobody steals or eats MY apples and gets away with it.

                   My father chuckled, slightly startling me. I had forgotten he was here. “If you’re hungry, maybe you should come eat with us instead of stealing.”

                   The boy nodded shyly, still grinning at me. I harrumphed and marched back to my apples, piling them into my arms. I smiled at my achievement. Then, much to my disappointment, I dropped a few as I stood up then dropped a few more as I staggered toward my dad. The quiet boy walked over and calmly picked up every apple I had dropped. I tilted my head at him curiously, blinking. He smiled at me and, eventually, I smiled back.

                   After that lunch that day, the boy hadn’t come back. I had been disappointed, but as a young girl, had forgotten about him eventually. Until today, I hadn’t even noticed he had been in the picture of my parents and I.

                   I giggled as I threw a piece of strawberry short cake at the boy. He turned around, and I pretended to be eating. Suddenly, I felt something hit my shoulder. I turned around to find the boy about to throw another piece.

                   Soon, it was an all-out food fight; even the Mengellies and my parents were throwing crumbs too. Eventually, we all sat down, in the kitchen, which was now a mess.

                   We all participated in cleanup, the dark haired boy and I picking up chunks of cake and putting them in the garbage bin. The adults towered over us, using brooms to sweep up the crumbs.

                   I awoke to a slight pressure on my stomach. I blinked blearily at the dark shape on top of me. Yawning, I realized it was Mocha. “Oh, there you are, Mocha…”

                   Mocha looked up, using my stomach to stand up on her hind paws, she licked my cheek. As an instant reaction, I laughed and wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. Mocha again curled up beside me in the tree. I should probably get back to my room… I thought.

                   I looked up, and saw the sun rising in the distance. I had slept all through the night! Sitting up, I admired the rising sun. Mocha had sat up as well, and we both watched the golden disk rise into the sky, bringing vast expanses of color with it.