Never Swim in Applesauce

  “Now, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “Each apple team will get their own tree. You may pick as many apples as you like, until your arms get tired or your basket is full. Whichever comes first.”

  Each of our apple teams had four people. And each team was named after a kind of apple.

  There was a Golden Delicious Team.

  And a Gala Team.

  And a McIntosh Team.

  We were the Granny Smith Team.

  Granny Smith is the name of a sourish green apple.

  It is probably the name of somebody’s grandma too.

  “These baskets hold a lot of apples, my friends. Do you think you will be able to pick that many?” Abe asked.

  I pulled Hazel’s magic fortune-telling ball out of my jeans pocket.

  “Magic ball, will the Granny Smiths pick a whole basket of apples?” I asked.

  I turned it over.

  “It says ‘NO WAY,’” I said.

  “I’ll bet you can do it,” Abe said. “Especially with the help of a picking pole.”

  Abe passed each of us a long pole.

  At the end of each pole was a little net.

  Like a basketball net. Only closed up at the bottom.

  “These are picking poles,” said Abe. “Think of them as your apple catchers.”

  “And be very careful with them,” Ms.

  Diz added.

  “Now follow me, pickers!” Abe said.

  He led us down a trail past lines of apple trees.

  He stopped and pointed to a big tree. It had a zillion branches sticking out like big brown arms.

  “Granny Smiths, you’re first up,” he said. “Meet your tree! These are called winesap apples.”

  It was cool and shadowy under the branches.

  Red apples hung down everywhere.

  Some were even on the ground.

  “Don’t eat the ones that have fallen,” Abe warned. “They might be rotten. And don’t eat the ones you pick from the trees until they’ve been washed.”

  Abe borrowed my picking pole and held it up high.

  He tapped an apple. It plopped into the little net.

  He lowered the stick and held up the apple.

  “See?” he said. “That’s how you do it. Easy as apple pie.”

  Abe looked more closely at the apple. “Oops. This one’s a dud.”

  He tossed the apple over his shoulder. “There’s a worm in that one. If you see an apple with a hole in it, there might be a worm inside.”

  The class made lots of ewww! noises.

  “Okay, Granny Smiths,” Abe said, “get to work. I’m going to take the other teams to their trees.”

  Let me tell you something. Those apples don’t exactly want to get picked!

  They must be pretty happy just hanging there like shiny decorations.

  Because some of them hold on awfully tight.

  After a while I figured out how to tap hard with my apple picker.

  An apple fell right in!

  I pulled down my stick. There in my net was a bright red apple.

  It even had a tiny green leaf on the stem.

  I put it in our basket.

  Emma and Gus and Wyatt each put an apple in too.

  “My apple’s bigger than your puny one,” Wyatt said to me.

  I decided to ignore him.

  That’s usually the best way to deal with Wyatt.

  “We’ll have a full basket in no time!” Emma said.

  I gathered more apples.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  It’s a whole lot easier just to buy one of those bags of apples at the grocery store.

  I was on apple number ten when I heard Wyatt yell, “Look at this sucker!”

  He held a great big apple in front of my face.

  It was awfully big, I had to admit.

  But then I saw an even better apple.

  Way up high.

  The biggest, shiniest, most juiciest apple in Happy Apple Orchard!

  8

  The Amazing Apple

  I took a swing at that humongous apple and missed by a mile.

  Then Wyatt saw it too.

  “It’s the hugest apple on the planet!” Wyatt cried.

  “It’s my apple!” I said.

  “Not if I’m the one who picks it!” he said.

  We both swung our sticks at that gigantic apple.

  And we both missed.

  We swung again.

  Crack! Our sticks hit with a loud whack.

  “Boys,” Ms. Diz warned, “careful with the sticks!”

  “It’s just one apple, you know,” Emma said. “There are hundreds of apples on this tree.”

  “It’s a super apple!” I corrected.

  “It’s Gigantor, the Killer Apple from Outer Space!” Wyatt added.

  “Wow,” Gus said. “It looks like a basketball!”

  I swung and missed again.

  “Guys,” Emma said, “our basket is only half full. Everybody else has a ton of apples.”

  “But they don’t have the Awesome, Amazing Super Apple!” Wyatt said.

  He swung again and missed.

  I had an idea.

  “Gus,” I said. “Come here. It’s time for a ladder.”

  “We don’t have a ladder,” Gus pointed out.

  “I’ll be the ladder,” I said.

  I got down on my hands and knees.

  “Oh.” Gus grinned. “I get it.”

  Gus climbed up on my back. He used his stick for balance.

  “Ow,” I said. “Ow, ow, ow. Hurry, Gus. Your ladder can’t take much more of this.”

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  Gus kept missing. “Keep still. It’s hard to balance when your ladder keeps breathing,” he complained.

  “Hey, it’s cheating if you have to step on a friend,” Wyatt said.

  “I don’t mind,” I said.

  Even though Gus was turning out to be way heavier than I’d expected.

  “Emma,” Wyatt said. “Come here. I need to step on you.”

  “Excuse me? Emma said. She laughed. “No way, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt turned to Gus.

  “Gus,” he said. “We need to work together. Stay on Roscoe. I’ll climb on your shoulders and whack that apple down.”

  “How about I climb on you?” Gus asked.

  “How about nobody else climbs on me?” I asked.

  “I’m taller than you,” Wyatt said to Gus.

  Gus nodded. “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Yes you can,” said Emma. “And are you three aware that this is dumb?”

  “I agree with Emma,” I said with a groan. “And my back agrees too.”

  Just then somebody yelled a cover-your-ears kind of yell. “OUCH! I’m hit! Call 9-1-1!”

  Emma went to find out what was going on.

  “It’s just Coco,” Emma said when she came back. “An apple fell on her head.”

  Wyatt glanced over his shoulder.

  All the teachers and parents were busy with Coco.

  “The coast is clear,” said Wyatt. “Stand still, Gus.”

  Gus stayed on me.

  Wyatt climbed on him.

  “UGH,” I said.

  One kid is heavy.

  Two kids is too heavy.

  “I am thinking this is a way not-good idea,” I said.

  I wobbled.

  Gus wobbled.

  Wyatt wobbled and whacked.

  Whack! Whack!

  Plop!

  “I GOT IT!” Wyatt yelled.

  Just before he fell.

  And Gus fell.

  On me.

  “Ouch,” I said.

  “YOU ouch? What about ME?” Wyatt said, rubbing his elbow. “I was on top.”

  “Yeah, but I was on the bottom,” I said with a groan.

  Ms. Diz ran over.

  “Boys, what on earth is going on here?” she asked.

  “Check out this apple, Ms. Diz!” Wyatt cried.


  He pulled that beauty out of the net.

  “Let’s eat it!” I said.

  “Roscoe Riley!” Ms. Diz said. “The apples have to be washed first.”

  “It’s bigger than a melon,” Gus said.

  “It’s bigger than a Halloween pumpkin,” I said.

  “It’s just an apple!” Emma said.

  “No more misbehaving, boys,” Ms. Diz warned.

  “Sorry,” we all said.

  “You want to be able to go on other field trips, don’t you?” Ms. Diz added.

  “I vote for the doughnut place next time,” I said.

  “We’ll see,” said Ms. Diz. “It will depend on how much I can trust you to behave.”

  “Five more minutes of picking!” called Abe.

  Which was good news.

  My arms were tired. And so was my back.

  Plus I was kind of sore from being smushed.

  I guess Gus and Wyatt were tired too.

  Because they sat on the ground with me while Emma kept picking.

  I think maybe she’s tougher than us guys.

  Thanks to Emma, we got that basket almost filled.

  But not quite.

  “The magic fortune-telling ball was right!” I said. “We didn’t fill our basket. But we did get the giant apple.”

  “Can I see that ball?” Emma asked.

  I took it out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  She shook the ball. “Magic ball,” Emma said, “who should get to take home most of the apples since she did all the work?”

  Emma turned over the ball. She grinned.

  “‘EMMA SHOULD, BECAUSE THOSE GUYS WERE BUSY FIGHTING LIKE MORONS OVER AN APPLE,’” she read.

  I am pretty sure she was just pretending, though.

  Because that is for sure not a yes-or-no kind of answer.

  9

  Why You Should Never Eat an Apple with a Hole in It

  Abe led us to a wide, long building.

  An apple tree was painted on its front door.

  Emma and Gus carried our almost-but-not-quite-full basket.

  I carried our picking poles.

  Wyatt carried the Amazing Apple.

  The building smelled yummy inside.

  Like cinnamon applesauce and taffy apples.

  We set our baskets by the door. Abe gathered up our poles.

  “This is where we clean our apples,” he said. “We sort them here too. Some of the apples are too little to sell. We use those to make applesauce.”

  “Do we get to eat some free applesauce?” I asked.

  “You sure do,” said Abe. “We make applesauce in the room next to this one.”

  Abe waved for us to follow him. He paused in front of a big glass window.

  On the other side we could see giant pots of gooey appley-looking stuff.

  “That’s the applesauce mixture after it’s been cooked. It’s cooled off, and sugar and cinnamon have been added. Next it will go into containers to be sold,” Abe explained.

  He led us to a huge tub of bubbly water.

  It was as big as a wading pool. And as high as my belly button. Apples floated in the water like little boats.

  It looked like we were going to have a giant dunking-for-apples Halloween party.

  Next to the tub was another one filled with plain water.

  After that came a long moving belt.

  It looked just like the conveyor belts at the grocery store checkout line.

  This one was covered with apples, though, instead of milk cartons and dog food and toilet paper.

  I felt in my pocket. The magic fortune-telling ball was still there, safe and sound.

  So far, it had been right about whether this would be a good field trip.

  I was definitely having fun.

  “This tub is where the apples get washed,” Abe explained. “Think of it as a big apple bathtub.”

  “Can I wash my Amazing Apple, Abe?” Wyatt asked.

  “Our Amazing Apple,” I corrected.

  Wyatt held up the apple so Abe could see it.

  “Whoa, that is a big fella,” said Abe.

  Ms. Diz said, “Boys, every child will take home a bag of apples. Your moms and dads can wash them when you get home, and then you can eat them.”

  “Here’s an idea,” Abe said. “Why don’t we run this big ol’ apple through the wash? It’s so huge, the kids might be able to keep track of it. Go ahead, young man. Throw it in the vat with all the bubbles.”

  Wyatt tossed the apple into the bubbly tub.

  Plop!

  It disappeared, then floated to the surface.

  “Boys and girls,” Abe said, “keep your eye on the apple. First it will be washed in this tub. Then it will move on to be rinsed.”

  The apple disappeared into a metal tube.

  Abe led us to the second huge tub. This one didn’t have any bubbles.

  “There it is!” Gus cried. “I see it!”

  Everyone cheered for the Amazing Apple as it bobbed in the water.

  It looked extra shiny after its bath.

  “Next it will go to the conveyor belt to be sorted,” said Abe. “Follow me!”

  The conveyor belt was loaded with wet apples.

  Workers with white hats and coats stood by the belt.

  They grabbed and tossed and grabbed and tossed.

  “If they see a bad apple, they remove it,” Abe explained.

  That would be a tough job, I decided.

  They all just looked like nice, happy apples to me.

  “All these apples are making me hungry!” Coco said. “Can we eat soon, Ms. Diz?”

  “We’re almost done with our tour, Coco,” said Ms. Diz.

  Suddenly the Amazing Apple appeared on the conveyor belt.

  “There it is again!” I yelled.

  Abe pointed to the Amazing Apple and asked a worker to grab it.

  The worker tossed it to Abe. Abe tossed it to Wyatt.

  Wyatt looked at the apple. He didn’t seem that thrilled about having it back.

  “It’s all yours,” Abe said to Wyatt. “Ready to eat.”

  Wyatt looked over at Coco. “Hey, Coco,” he said, “you’re so hungry. Why don’t you eat it?”

  It was nice, seeing Wyatt be nice.

  Unusual too.

  Wyatt tossed the apple to Coco.

  “Thank you, Wyatt,” she said.

  She took a great big, mouth-open-as-wide-as-possible bite of that beautiful Amazing Apple.

  She chewed.

  And chewed.

  “Good, huh?” said Abe. “Isn’t that the best apple you ever tasted?”

  Coco made a face. “It tastes like…macaroni!”

  She looked at the apple and gasped.

  “EWWWWWWWWW!” she screeched. The apple dropped to the floor. “I ATE A WORM, MS. DIZ! I’M GOING TO DIE!”

  “I think I’m going to faint,” said Coco’s mom.

  If anybody had the right to faint, I figured it should be Coco.

  “You’ll be okay, young lady,” Abe said. “It’s just a little protein. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Wyatt,” Ms. Diz said, “did you know that apple had a worm in it?”

  “YOU POISONED ME!” Coco yelled at Wyatt.

  “How could I know if it had a worm in it?” Wyatt asked.

  He made an innocent don’t-blame-me face.

  I know that face. I’ve used it before.

  Wyatt picked the apple up off the floor. “Besides, it’s not like Coco ate the whole worm. Half of him’s still in the apple.”

  “I don’t feel so good,” Coco moaned.

  Everyone was looking at her. And you could tell they were all thinking, I’M SO GLAD I’M NOT YOU RIGHT NOW.

  Even though Coco can be annoying sometimes, she didn’t deserve to eat a worm.

  Or even half a worm.

  I pulled Hazel’s magic ball out of my pocket.

  “Magic ball,” I said, “did Wyatt know there was a worm in that apple??
??

  I turned the ball over.

  “‘ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY YES!’” I read.

  “Let me see that stupid ball!” Wyatt cried.

  But before he could say anything else, someone fainted.

  And it wasn’t Coco’s mom.

  10

  Boy-Flavored Applesauce

  Coco lay on the floor.

  “My baby’s fainted!” Coco’s mom cried.

  Everyone crowded around to see what a fainted person looked like.

  “Give her air!” Abe cried.

  Wyatt looked at Coco. Then he looked at me.

  “Let me see that ball,” he repeated.

  “No way!” I said. “It’s my sister’s.”

  Wyatt grabbed for the ball.

  I turned and ran.

  Nobody paid any attention. On account of Coco was busy fainting.

  I zipped into the applesauce room to get away from Wyatt.

  But he was right behind me.

  A giant, loud machine was smushing apples.

  Another one was stirring a huge tub of apple stuff.

  It smelled sweet and cinnamony.

  “Step away from the applesauce!” a loudspeaker voice yelled. “STEP AWAY FROM THE APPLESAUCE!”

  I stopped running.

  Wyatt tried to stop running too.

  But he skidded on a slick spot.

  Applesauce, probably.

  He slid right into me.

  Hazel’s magic fortune-telling ball went flying.

  Straight into the giant tub of applesauce.

  It sank like a little red submarine.

  “NO!” I screamed. “The magic ball!”

  “STEP AWAY FROM THE APPLESAUCE!” the voice said again.

  I couldn’t jump in, could I?

  Ms. Diz really wanted us to be on our best behavior.

  I was pretty sure jumping into applesauce didn’t count as best behavior.

  On the other hand, I’d promised Hazel I would return her ball to her safe and sound.

  Hazel was my little sister. She trusted me.

  And she loved that ball.

  There was only one thing I could do.

  I leaped right into that giant tub.

  The applesauce came up to my waist.

  It was slimy. And oozy.

  And tasty.

  I reached down with both hands and felt the bottom.

  But it was a very big tub.