Apples

Sundays were miserable, with nothing to do. There were no Play-stations, Game-Boys or Sky Television programmes when I was younger. Ten is a funny age to be a kid, old enough to wander about on your own, and still too young for parent’s not to worry if you do.

Kenny, my cousin was staying with us for a while on holiday. I remember the day like it was yesterday, one of those days when things just seem to happen, no plan, just random youthfulness.

It was dry when we set out, but it was overcast with clouds you could almost touch. We had been out wandering around for hours, the rain was a constant threat, and when we discovered we were hungry the rain wasn’t a threat any more, it was lashing down. We were soaked to the skin with no money and we were too far away from home, besides if we went home it would mean being kept in and we were enjoying ourselves despite the rain.

From the road we could see apple trees in the garden, they were teeming with fruit. We made our way around the back of the house via a slimy cobbled alley-way. Standing between us and our fruitful bounty was a wall, not an ordinary brick wall, one of those grey dry stone dykes with grass and moss growing from crevices. Built long ago and built to keep intruders like us out. It was a massive thing. Well it was when I was ten. Plenty of foot holes to make the climb easier and still we stood in silence and stared in awe at the prospect before us. Neither of us admitting or showing signs of fear as we dried our hand as best we could. We both started the climb and were soon straddling the top of the wall, surveying the house for signs of life. The lights were on but we couldn’t see any. Kenny went first, half way down he jumped off the wall hitting the ground with a thud. I slid on some moss coming down and lost my footing, scraping my knees and hands against the rough stone. They hurt like hell, but I didn’t make a sound. Kenny still gave that look, the one with eyes wide open and a finger pushed against lips, the universal shush.

Apples lay scattered over the lawn, we knew from experience that wasps ate apples on the ground, and we wanted fresh ones. Kenny managed to grab a low hanging branch, and two hours of rain gathered by the leaves was dumped on him instantly. I kept lookout, watching the back door, when I gave a nod he began to shake with minimum noise and the apples fell without too much fuss or disturbance. We both started laughing, not loud, more through nerves and a sense of achievement than anything else. We tucked our jumpers into our waistbands to use them as cargo holds.

The climb back up posed more of a challenge. The inside of the garden wall faced north and had a lot more moss than the outside. The climb out was more slippery and difficult than the climb in. We were too young to make an escape plan and our jumpers were full of apples. We managed through sheer determination. I got to the top first after a hunch up. Once again I was straddling the top of the wall, one hand trying to pull Kenny up, the other desperate to stop the liberated bounty falling out of my jumper.

Just as Kenny got to the top, the man from the house grabbed his shoe, silence was forgotten, we both screamed. He came from nowhere. What a fright we got.. I can’t remember how I got down but I did, adrenalin I suppose. Kenny followed as soon as his foot was free and we ran like the wind. The man made a token gesture, he came out of a side gate, and pretended he was chasing after us, shouting out and calling us names followed with the familiar.

‘I know who you are, I’ll be telling your fathers.’

We knew he didn’t, besides we had our food, and we felt good, like freedom fighters.

We found an old cow shed, in the dry we ate our bellies full and recalled our narrow escape, laughing having a good time. The rain had died away to a drizzle when we made our way home. At that age you just know when its time for home, and I knew it was already too late. Still, the scalding would be worth taking.

The scalding was severe, poor Mither was worried sick. Faither, he knew the score, still he went through the motions as he made our supper.

‘Where have you two been, ‘we were worried bloody sick?'

He was just glad we were alright. We ate our toast, drank our tea, and went to bed.