The Apple Tree by Kara Jimenez Page A

A smile spread across his face. She sounded happy to talk to him.
    “ Do you have plans tomorrow? I’d like to see you.”
    “ Well, I always go to the farmer’s market on Saturdays. Would you like to join me?”
    Not really what he had in mind. “Won’t it still be raining tomorrow?”
    “ The rain doesn’t bother me. This is Oregon. You can bring an umbrella if you want.” He pictured her eyes rolling.
    A couple of drunken girls joined him on the sidewalk, smoking and giggling with each other. He walked down the street to avoid them. “Fine, I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
    “ But, I always ride my bike,” Bianca said.
    “ But, then it wouldn’t be a proper date. I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
     
     

    Levi stood underneath the apple tree. The rain fell, dripping off the leaves and through the spindling branches. Light shown from the plump moon overhead, visible even through the heavy clouds. He placed his hand on the rough, uneven bark of the trunk and closed his eyes.
    “ God,” he whispered. The wind brushed past his cheeks, splattering raindrops across his skin. He leaned his forehead against the tree, his eyes still closed. “As soon as I discovered these apples, I did everything I could to avoid any more people getting hurt… I thought that’s what you’d want. And still…this tree hurts me every day.” He slammed his fist into the trunk, sending a rush of pain up his arm.
    Slumping to his knees, the wet earth soaked into his jeans. “Why?” He yelled now as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Why won’t you just let me grow old? Why can’t I have a family, someone to love?” Warm drops flowed down his cheeks, mixing with the cold rain.
    Maybe he should destroy the tree. Cut it down. Without the apples, there’d be nothing for Peter and his father to get hold of. There’d be no more threats. He ran his hand along the rough bark. It was a thought he’d considered many times, but it always came back to one thing. Uncertainty. He owed the tree his life. If he killed it, would he die? What about everyone else who’d eaten an apple?
    “ What do I do to protect her?”
    He looked toward the edge of the orchard and remembered the first time he’d seen Bianca. Twigs and leaves stuck in her hair, smears of mud decorating her jeans. Ever since then, he found more and more things he liked about her. Wiping his palms across his face to clear the rain and tears, he slumped down, leaning his back against the tree. Peter and Uncle Charles had something planned and it involved Bianca. “Please, God, keep her safe,” he whispered.
     
     

 
     
    T he air smelled of apples, warm pretzels and the fresh scent of rain. Bianca and Peter walked along the rows of produce stands at the farmer’s market. She carried a small wicker shopping basket. The rain kept the crowds small, although most of the stands had plastic covers over them.
    She smiled and glanced around. “The market’s the best way to spend a Saturday.”
    Peter shrugged. “It does have a certain charm.”
    Although he’d been reluctant on the phone, he acted pleasant enough as he helped choose her groceries. While they browsed, she told him about her blog and the new recipes she had planned.
    “ You know, now I’m going to Google it.” He gave her a nudge and then bent to smell a bundle of rosemary.
    She blushed. “Well, up until a couple weeks ago, it probably wouldn’t have even come up on a Google search, but I’ve been getting tons of hits lately. It’s kind of exciting.”
    Peter tossed the squash he held back onto the table and wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Tell me more about what gets you excited.”
    Wow. His scent enveloped her, making her dizzy. She giggled, gently pushing him away and reaching for the vegetable he’d set down. “I was thinking about a butternut squash soup with sage. Does that sound good?” She glanced across the street and her stomach