Peaches cover

Story: Peaches…

Mr. McCormack stopped and sat on the bench at the bus stop. A clear and warm day, clouds high in the sky moving slowly, he squinted for a moment at the sun, the world around him shifted. Peaches.

The warm sweet smell washed over him carrying him back to memories of childhood. Hot summer days with his brother and sister, playing hide and seek in the orchard, climbing trees and popping fresh plump fruit off of the branches and eating until their bellies were bloated and smiles stretched from ear to ear. But, that was a long time ago.

“Mitchell, come on!” A voice popped him out of his reverie.

“Sarah?” 

His eyes took time to focus on the girl yelling at him, from below. 

Below?

Her voice was his sister’s voice, but that was impossible she had passed away 10 years ago, and she hadn’t sounded like that in longer than that. But, then who was yelling his name and what the heck was he doing in a tree? 

In a tree?! 

He felt his heart jump and breath catch suddenly very aware that he was at least 30 feet off the ground laying back on the branch of a peach tree. Low hanging fruit surrounded him as the dark yellow light filtered in through the rustling leaves. The sweet smell of ripened fruit washed over him again on the warm breeze.

“Mitchell!!” His sister yelled at him again, “C’mon we have to go or Mama is going to be mad for us being late again!”

“Ok, I’m coming!” He shot back at her.

His first attempt at moving was met with some begrudgement from his body. His stomach was so full he didn’t want to move. He thought about the last time he had gorged this much. The last time he had been able to without having to pay a heavy price later on. A small smile started to stretch across his face again as he got lost in the thought.

“AHHHHHH!” She screamed and the thud of a peach against the tree next to his head snapped him out of his memory.

“OW! HEY! Ok, ok I’m coming!”

Mitchell made his way down the tree with the acrobatic ease of a boy who has done it hundreds of times. Brushing the bark off of his sticky hands and smiling with self-satisfaction he quickly shot a stern look at his sister.

“Why do you have to be such a bully?! You could have killed me with that!”

“If I WANTED to hit you you’d have been hit! I am NOT getting a whippin’ again because of you, now come on we are going to be late for supper!”

The look on her face, her young face, froze him for a moment. Summer? Dinner? Sarah? Peaches? It was all overwhelming. The look on her face shifted from anger to confusion to exasperation before she turned and ran off…toward the…house?

Mitchell watched his sister running toward the large white house, green shutters, big wraparound porch. Home? He felt his heart skip. A lump formed in his throat and tears welled up and in a flash his legs were moving him as fast as they could go toward the front door. So fast the wind was in his ears and smell of the warm summer evening and scent of peaches it carried on it. He caught up to his sister just as she reached the screen door, the familiar creak as they opened it and rushed inside and it slammed shut behind them.

“Will you two PLEASE stop slamming that screen door. I swear!”

His heart skipped again at the sound of the voice and the emotions slammed into him like a wave. She was standing next to the sink shucking corn the golden light coming through the window giving her an angelic glow.

“Mama?” He squeaked. He was feeling extremely lightheaded and faint.

“Don’t MAMA me!” Her voice snapped him back to the present.

“Now come on you two little hobos your father will be home any time now and supper is almost ready. Hurry up and go get washed! And WHERE is Jimmy?!”

Jimmy? 

Who? 

What?

He turned to look at Sarah who was in turn looking at him with a sheepish smile which made him giggle which in turn made her giggle and it quickly turned into a giggle-fest that was quickly cut short by the creak and slam of the screen door and a squeaky voice.

“HEEEEYY you two didn’t find me!”

Sarah and Mitchell stopped giggling long enough to see the young boy standing there with a stern indignant look on his dirty face and snot running out of his nose. The giggles turned to chuckles and just as quickly to full on belly laughs. Mitchell doubled over, feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks, a small part of his brain toward the back trying to remember the last time he had laughed so hard.

“You three I swear! Go! GOOOOOOO! Go get washed up before your father gets home! Right now before I take a switch to you!”

She rushed over and shuffled them out of the kitchen toward the bathroom where they quickly pushed and scuffled washing up at the old basin then making their way back to the table.

It was all there too, the big bowl of chicken and dumplings, steam still rising and swirling off of it. Corn on the cob, green beans, the golden butter sitting next to the fresh made slices of bread. His mouth watered and he reached for one of the green beans calling his name.

“Mitchy! Wait!” His mother snapped at him and began pouring glasses of milk from an old ceramic pitcher. 

A memory of her unwrapping that last Christmas popped to mind and he remembered how she squealed with joy. Oh she had a great laugh, his mother, several he could think of. She would snicker and chuckle, there was this polite laugh she had when the mood called for it, but his favorite was when something struck her funny bone just the right was and she let go with a belly laugh that doubled her over and had had tears streaming down her face. Oh how she loved to laugh.

Once again the creak and slam of the screen door snapped him out of his memory and back to the present. His gaze shifted and there he was a towering superhero just like he always remembered him. 

“Papa.” 

The wave crashed again and the emotion swept Mitchell out of his chair running arms wide toward his father.

“Pappppaaaaa!!!”

He crashed into him, an irresistible force meeting an immovable object, wrapping his arms tight and squeezing with everything he had. He couldn’t hold them back any longer and tears flowed unobstructed down his face.

“Hey Mitchy! How are you today?”

He felt his dad’s strong arms squeezing him then hoisting him through the air, he was flying like Superman.

“Hey buddy what’s this? Why are you crying? What happened? Honey what happened?”

He felt a cloth dabbing at his face.

“Mitchy what’s wrong?”

His mother’s voice soothed the tears away and his vision cleared to see the concerned looks of his parents studying him.

“I just, just missed you sooo much…” He stammered.

“Awwwww, I missed you too buddy.”

He felt another huge squeeze that melted him like butter before he was standing on shaky legs again and a hand tousled his hair.

“OK Mister, you go wash up before supper gets any colder. Mitchy go sit back down.”

Climbing back up into his chair he stared at the floral pattern on his plate for a moment before glancing up to find his sister looking back at him.

“Dork.” she whispered, sending a smile back across his face and them both back into a fit of the giggles.

Supper was delicious and full of small talk. Recounts of adventures both at work and at play. When plates were cleaned and the clinks and clacks of silverware concluded it was time for dessert. A still warm fresh peach cobbler directly out of the oven.

“Kids, plates in the sink and hurry we only have about 5 minutes until our programs start. Hun, I’ve got homemade ice cream in the icebox. C’mon everyone get your dessert and take it out on the porch. I moved the radio outside it’s too nice of a night for us to stay in.”

Kids buzzed like bees. Plates and silverware clattered in the sink. Dessert dishes rattled on the table and were quickly filled with generous portions of cobbler followed by a scoop of vanilla ice cream that quickly started melting into it. The familiar creaking as the screen door flung open and everyone found their spots on the porch followed quickly by the BANG and an unseen grimace.

A knob click and soft hum, then soft illumination as the radio came to life. The announcer’s voice sprang to life and the next hour was filled with action, suspense, and laughter. The orchard silhouette against the star filled sky and the warm summer night was complemented by the taste of warm peaches and contrasting cool vanilla. Another click and the soft glow was replaced by moonlight coming from high overhead. The warm summer night air wrapped around him bringing the scent of peaches from the orchard.

“Ok you three, scoot get upstairs and washed up for bed. We will be up in a moment to tuck you in.”

A flurry of activity as children raced upstairs and jostled and pushed while they washed up, brushed their teeth, and raced into pajamas. Mitchell was in the doorway to his room when it hit him again and his heart skipped stopping him in is tracks. It was all the same. Everything was there. The posters on the wall, the carpet, the beds, Mr. Growley. 

Mr. Growley had been a trusted friend and adventurer for years. Once a constant companion the, now, ruffed up teddy bear, more than a bit worse for wear, was relegated to the bedtime and accompanied Mitchell in dreamtime adventures only. Tho occasionally he would still make his way out into the world to help fight off martians or indians, sometimes even mutant ants that had come to attack the farm house!

With a leap Mitchell made it into his bed, the wooden slats groaning in protest, but Mr. Growley was quickly scooped and squeezed tightly the soft feather pillow gave way cradling his head. It immediately started whispering promises of sword fights and horses in his ears pulling him deeper and deeper toward sleep. He felt his cheeks cramping at the smile on his face.

“Hey buddy how you doing?” 

The bed shifted under the weight of his father sitting next to him. His hair was being tousled again making his cheeks cramp that much more from smiling.

“Lookit you. What’s that smile about?”

“Nothing, I’m ok.”

“Ok, sweet dreams then.”

A hug and kiss on the forehead then his mother’s hand stroking his hair and her lips on his cheek.

“Get some sleep Mitchy. I love you.”

“Love you too Mama.”

Opening the window on the way out, the warm summer breeze once again making it’s way in and enveloping him with peaches as his pillow made good on its promises.

“Nite Jimmy.”

“Nite Mitch.”

The paramedics watched the body being loaded into the Coroner’s wagon before heading back to their vehicle.

“Oh man that’s so sad. Mr. McCormack was a fixture in this neighborhood for years. I can’t believe he’s gone. He is going to be so missed. I guess another sign this neighborhood is changing nothing stays the same forever.”

His door creaked in protest to it being opened and banged loudly as he slammed it shut after climbing in.

“Dude, could you PLEASE not slam the door like that.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s just a peeve I have, sorry. That banging is just like nails on a chalkboard for me. My mom used to rail at us for slamming the doors.”

“OK, ok I get it. I’ll be more careful in the future. Hey you want one of these peaches?”

He reached down and pulled a fist-sized peach offering it to his partner.

“Oh, no thanks man. Appreciate it. Hey, you’d better lighten up on those you’ve been eating those things all day. Too much of anything is going to give you a stomach ache.”

“Meh, it’s fruit I’m good.” 

Tho he did admit to himself he was feeling more than a bit full. Raising the peach to his mouth and taking a bite, juice dribbled down his chin, ran down his hand and arm sweet fruit rolled around on his tongue before sliding down his throat.

“Aw man, don’t get that sticky stuff all over the truck. Get a napkin. Roll down your window it’s a gorgeous day out let’s get some fresh air in here.”

A voice on the radio, seat belts clicked, and the ambulance engine roared to life. As they started to pull away one last look at an empty bus stop bench and a wistful smile.

“Goodbye Mr. McCormack.”

(thanks for reading, you can get a Kindle copy here.)

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