The Year Money Grew on Trees

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The Year Money Grew on Trees Page 4

by Aaron Hawkins


  Between my immediate family and my uncle's family, there were plenty of relatives to choose from. My dad and uncle were brothers and had built houses next to each other before I was even old enough to remember. I had mentally crossed off my dad and uncle from the list of potential employees. They both were always complaining about how tired they were and how much they had to do around the house already. I was never sure why they were so tired or what they did all day. My dad worked at some place that sold bolts. He almost never talked about his job at home, but when he did it was about missing bolt orders, "worthless salesmen," and "Old Man Scott," who I think was his boss. Uncle David worked at the power plant like a lot of other men where we lived. It was hard to say exactly what he did there, but the place used a lot of coal and produced electricity, so it had to be something to do with one of those things.

  My mom didn't have a job, but she made it clear that she was always worn out by the time she put her kids to bed. To tell the truth, I never really knew what she did during the day either. Mom did like working outside, however, and would plant flowers every spring that wouldn't survive the summer. I considered her a faint possibility for the orchard. My aunt Sandy was kind of like a second mom, only funnier. Of the four adults, I would probably have confided in her first about Mrs. Nelson's contract. I knew she would have thought it was funny and not just the kind of funny where she was laughing at me. I couldn't see asking her for help with the work, though.

  My only real hope rested with my two younger sisters and three cousins. Common sense said to find someone with a little farming experience, but I actually liked the fact that they would know even less about raising apples than I did. If I was going to be making a lot of mistakes and bad decisions, at least they wouldn't know any better. Besides, if this was going to be my orchard, I didn't want anyone else acting like they ran the place.

  Talking them into helping wasn't going to be easy. My sisters had stopped listening to me years before, and my cousins were usually devoted to watching whatever was on TV It was critical for me to first convince my cousin Amy, who was the oldest of the group. My sisters wanted to be like her and her two younger brothers respected her. She was much more persuasive than I was. All in all, I'd feel more confident with her around.

  Amy was only four months older than me but a grade ahead. Growing up, we mostly had each other to play with since anyone else our age lived too far away. Most games involved her telling me what to do while I tried to control our little brothers and sisters. At school Amy constantly watched out for me, which meant something because she was way more popular than I could ever hope to be. With every passing year, the age gap between us seemed to grow. Unfortunately, she had stopped wanting to be outside much and almost seemed embarrassed sometimes that she lived down a dirt road. I knew I couldn't call what we had to do in the orchard "farming" because she would immediately refuse. I would try explaining how much money we would make—she was always complaining about not having any. Maybe I'd even beg. I was willing to try anything, really.

  ***

  The day after my latest visit with Mrs. Nelson, I followed Amy home from school and told her I had to ask her something in private. She smiled, looked around, and said, "Okay, let's go to my room," as if we were about to swap secret passwords. I knew she thought it was either about a girl I liked or, better yet, about a boy she liked.

  Her room was newly decorated with Michael Jackson posters. Once inside, she stopped in front of her mirror to comb and admire her hair. She used to wear it in ponytails but had cut it short at the beginning of the school year, right about the time she started watching MTV. We didn't get it where we lived, but Amy had some friends in Farmington and she would stay over at their houses for all-night MTV marathons.

  "Okay, so what did you want to tell me?" she asked excitedly once she was satisfied with her hair.

  I didn't want to seem like I didn't have any interesting information and I wanted to make sure she was in a positive state of mind, so I said, "Someone asked me about you and wants to know if you're going with anyone or not."

  "Really? Who was it?"

  "I promised I wouldn't tell you that he told me."

  "Bobby? Jason? Umm ... Troy?" she asked, starting to giggle.

  "I can't say, but I think you might already like him."

  I was amazed at how readily she believed me. I guess it was because she wanted to. A blush came across her cheeks. She explained to me exactly what I was supposed to say back to the person and what I was supposed to look for in his facial expressions when I told him.

  After thirty minutes she was still giggling and had moved to sitting on her bed while I sat cross-legged on the floor. I decided it was time. I'd start by talking about money.

  "So do you remember that one summer when we saw that show about shipwrecks and then dug up our yards looking for gold?"

  "Yeah, sure. Why?" she asked with a suspicious look coming over her face.

  "I don't know. I just thought it was funny because it would be nice to have money like that for clothes or even a car someday."

  "Paige Manning's dad says he's going to buy her a car when she turns sixteen. Probably a new one. I bet I have to get rides to school when I'm sixteen."

  "So would you rather be rich and have the nicest car in the world, or be the cutest girl in school?"

  "Definitely the cutest, because you can always get a job for things like a car."

  "So where would you work, then?"

  "I don't know. It's like you need a car first to drive anywhere."

  "I know, I know," I said, acting like I was deep in thought. I looked up at her and stared into her eyes.

  "What are you staring at?" she asked nervously.

  "That summer we were doing all the digging was when you broke your mom's music box. Remember how I took the blame because you said she wouldn't be able to punish me as much."

  "Yeah, yeah. So what does that have to do with anything?"

  "You promised that you'd owe me some huge favor in the future if I kept quiet and let her be mad at me."

  "I did? Are you sure?" She laughed nervously, afraid of the answer.

  "Definitely sure. And I need that favor now. But it's also a way to earn money without a car."

  "I'm not sure a promise like that counts when you're only nine or however old we were."

  "Oh, it counts. It definitely counts."

  She looked at me anxiously.

  "It's not like I'm going to ask you to do something illegal—I just need your help. And you'd get paid," I said, trying hard to reassure her.

  "So what is it?" she asked after a few awkward seconds.

  "Mrs. Nelson wants me to get her apple orchard growing again and sell the apples. But I can't do it all myself. I need you to help me and then you can have part of the money we earn."

  "What? Why would you want to do that? You don't know anything about growing apples. It sounds crazy!"

  "I know. I know. But I'm figuring it out. We really just have to get the apples to grow, pick 'em, and sell 'em."

  "But why would you want to do it in the first place?"

  "It's either that or work at the scrap yard with Skeeter Nickles."

  "Oh." A slight look of sympathy crossed over her face. "So when are you planning for all this to happen? In the summer or something?"

  "In the summer, yeah, and there are also things we need to start doing now."

  "It doesn't sound very fun. Why are you asking me, anyway?"

  "Because I like you. And you're the toughest, hardest-working person I know."

  "Yeah right. You couldn't think of anyone else, could you?" she said with a smirk.

  I looked into her face again. I wanted to tell her everything about Mrs. Nelson's agreement and about the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I wanted to confess that I was scared I was going to fail and waste everyone's time, but that if she would do this with me, I had a tiny bit of hope it was possible. I looked at the floor and was only able to mana
ge, "Amy, this is something I really want to do, and I know I can't do it without you. If you help me, I will never forget it and always owe you."

  She didn't reply at first but lay back on her bed, looking at the ceiling and playing with her hair. The seconds ticked by. "Oh, all right!" she said in a voice of surrender. "But we're going to make lots of money, right?"

  "It'll be like growing money on trees," I replied excitedly, repeating Mrs. Nelson's line. "But we'll have to work hard."

  "I'm only working as hard as you do."

  "Will you really?"

  "No, not really, but I could promise you if you like," she said sarcastically. "And this doesn't seem like a very fair trade of favors. All you had to do was act like you broke that stupid music box."

  "Are you kidding? Your mom reminds me of it every time I'm in your living room. That's gonna last my whole life. All I'm asking from you is one crop of apples."

  Amy sat up and rolled her eyes.

  "You know, we could probably use my sisters and your brothers if they would do it," I added.

  "Are they going to get part of the huge fortune too?"

  "I guess they would have to, but there should be plenty to go around."

  "Like how much?"

  "Thousands probably."

  "Thousands? Hmm. Well, if you can convince them to actually work, it might be all right."

  "I'll go talk to everyone. Maybe I'll tell them that the amount they would get depends on how much work I think they could do."

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "Okay, so we'll start tomorrow?" I asked enthusiastically. "I need you to come with me to Mrs. Nelson's to get some stuff."

  "Tomorrow? I can't believe I said I'd do it." She sighed as she dropped back onto her bed.

  I was mostly happy that Amy had agreed to help, but I felt a little guilty about our conversation. First, no boy had really asked me about her, although this seemed like just a small stretch of the truth. I was sure that there were plenty of boys at school who liked her and would like to know more about her. I felt worse telling her about getting money after we sold all the apples. It was kind of true, though, because we would get everything over $8,000, plus the orchard itself had to be worth money. I'd be happy to split that with her if she wanted. Somehow the money details would just have to be worked out later. That was so far into the future, it seemed unreal. For now, we just needed to get things started.

  After talking with Amy, I spoke with each of the younger kids that night, starting with my cousin Sam. He was eleven and was like a very energetic puppy constantly moving and searching for something. The instant I mentioned that Amy and I were going to be working together, he wanted to be a part of it. At first he suggested having his own set of trees to take care of and even volunteered to take half of the orchard. It took ten minutes to convince him that probably wasn't a good idea. He wanted to start that night, even though it was almost completely dark outside. I started talking about what part of the earnings he could make before I realized that he was more than willing to work for nothing. In the end we agreed that he should have 11 percent since he was eleven. That reasoning really appealed to Sam.

  My cousin Michael was a more difficult case. He was nine and the only true loner in our family. Sometimes I wouldn't see him for days at a time. He also wasn't very good at following instructions, but I was a desperate employer and willing to sign up anyone. During our conversation, I eventually had to resort to stroking his ego by telling him that Amy and I didn't think we could do it without him. He was very interested in the money and how much of it he could make and kept repeating, "Well, I don't think you can do it without me." He started by demanding half of any money but had to accept the logic that if Sam was older and getting 11 percent, he should be happy with less. We settled on 9 percent since, of course, he was nine. I also told him that his percentage would go down if he didn't work hard. He repeated, "You won't be able to do it without me."

  My sisters were hard to convince too. Lisa was ten and didn't seem all that interested in the money, but was concerned she might be left out of something everyone else was doing. She also didn't like the idea of working after school because she might get bad grades if she couldn't do her homework.

  "I want to go to college, you know, and you have to get good grades all the way down to kindergarten," she said matter-of-factly.

  "How is a college supposed to know what your grades were in elementary school?"

  "They check. They call the school and find out. Our teacher told us so."

  I couldn't argue with her. Our years together had taught me that much. In the end we agreed that she would work only on Saturdays, but she had to do it without complaining or she couldn't be part of the team. Dividing the money by age seemed to make a lot of sense now, so we agreed on 10 percent for her.

  My youngest sister, Jennifer, was eight. She wanted to do just what Lisa did, so she was only available on Saturdays too. She also didn't want to work near her boy cousins. I thought she would only be good for about 3 percent, but I figured it was best to stay with the age system, so she got 8.

  By the end of that night, I had given away a large chunk of future apple money. It may have been more than 100 percent, but I was too afraid to add it up. I had the same bad feelings I had had after talking with Amy. I knew I could make it right, though, even if I had to give everyone a part of the orchard once Mrs. Nelson handed it over. They might all quit after the first day, anyway. Except for Sam. I had a feeling that those trees would be seeing a lot of him in the future whether they liked it or not.

  Chapter 5

  Frostbite and Hard Falls

  When we got home from school the next day, I quickly went into my house to look for my mom's clippers. She used them when she gardened, and I thought they might be helpful for the pruning that lay ahead. I finally found them in my dad's toolbox and ran out of the house. I did, however, slow down long enough to grab the apple book and give my two sisters dirty looks on the way out for not being willing to help on school days. They were sitting at the kitchen table doing their homework and pretending not to notice me.

  I went over to my cousins' house and knocked on the door. "We're coming," Amy said dully, opening the door with Sam and Michael right behind her. She had changed her clothes to several layers of the shabbiest things she owned, with the top layer being a New Mexico Lobos sweatshirt her dad had gotten at a flea market.

  "So what exactly are we doing?" she asked as we all started walking toward the orchard.

  "I need you to come with me first. Sam and Michael, you take this book and these clippers and go wait for us by the trees closest to the road."

  I led Amy toward Mrs. Nelson's house while Sam and Michael worked their way through the orchard. As I knocked on Mrs. Nelson's door, Amy whispered, "What are we doing here?"

  Before I could answer, Mrs. Nelson opened the door. "Hi, Jackson! How are you?" she greeted me happily. "How are those trees?"

  "Hi, Mrs. Nelson. This is my cousin Amy, and we're just coming over to talk about that."

  Mrs. Nelson gave Amy a little nod.

  "We're going to get started with some pruning. Do you remember your husband doing that?"

  "Well, maybe," she said very thoughtfully.

  "Did he have any special tools he used for it?"

  "If he did, they would be in the shed behind the house."

  "Do you think we could have a look and maybe use some of the things in there?"

  "I don't see why not. They're just sitting in there."

  The three of us walked behind Mrs. Nelson's house and opened the doors to a little building. The inside was dark and it took a few seconds for our eyes to adjust. Dust and spider webs were everywhere. There were shelves against the wall piled high with unfamiliar items, like canvas bags, metal pipes, and tangles of hoses.

  "Is there anything in here that could be used for cutting branches?" I asked, almost speaking to myself.

  "How about this?" Mrs. Nelson asked after
pulling a tool off one of the shelves. It had two long wooden handles with curved metal blades at the point. I recognized them from the apple book.

  "I think those are just what we're looking for," I said as I took them from Mrs. Nelson. I moved the wooden handles back and forth and watched the metal blades move like scissors.

  "Here's another one just like it," Amy said from the corner. We searched for another ten minutes without finding more pruning tools, but we did pull two long ladders off the shelves. I thanked Mrs. Nelson, and then Amy and I started dragging the ladders and tools toward the orchard. Each ladder was heavier than I realized at first, and I was a little surprised that Amy was able to drag hers all by herself. She didn't say a word about Mrs. Nelson.

  We found Sam and Michael and dropped our ladders at the very corner of the orchard. Sam had climbed to the top of a tree while Michael was throwing dirt clods at its trunk. The apple book was lying in some mud along with my mom's clippers.

  I picked up the book and looked at everyone. "Okay, according to this, if we want a good crop of apples, we have to cut off some of the branches before the leaves and apples start growing on them."

  "That sounds stupid. If we cut off the branches, won't there be less places for apples to grow?" Michael asked confrontationally.

  "Yeah, but the book says the ones that do grow will be bigger. The trees will spend more energy growing apples and less time feeding all the branches or something."

  I turned to the pages in the book on pruning that illustrated the kind of spacing between branches that was just right. Amy, Michael, and I began debating how many branches to take off the first tree and where to start cutting. We each tried the pruning scissors and found that with just a little force they could cut off branches as thick as our fingers. We were deep in discussion about how to reach the highest branches when we heard a sawing noise. Sam had run home and gotten the saw his dad usually only used for cutting down Christmas trees. Before we could stop him, a huge branch just a few feet off the ground was cut through and fell with a thunk.

 

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