Dating : The Apple Tree

A short story

There was one apple tree in the orchard that grew twisted. It’s trunk was darker, thicker and twisted as though somebody had wrung it as though it was a cloth. Its leaves were of a jade green, the colour so bold it stood out among the other apple trees. But the apples it grew…the apples. They were of a red hue so deep it looked as though they were coated in blood.

The farmer made sure to stay away from that tree, as his family had done for many generations before him. It stood at the end of the orchard, it’s wicked-looking branches thrown up towards the sky as though to welcome the darkness that hovered constantly above it. Even during the day it stood, shrouded in darkness, for the cloud that covered the area was always thick like smoke, acrid and heavy.

Every year during the apple-picking season that tree was left alone. It looked uninviting, the apples looked poisonous and held a menacing gleam, almost daring people to pick them. But none had been brave. The cheerful families and couples that came through always stopped short of the tree and would usually shiver as they gazed at the way it stood crooked. Like an animal on its death-bed.

This year was different. One family came through. They walked through the entire orchard, picking the ones they liked best and placing them in the wicker baskets they held, smiling and laughing at the simple pleasure of the task. The man and woman had a small child with them. She was maybe seven years old. Her cheeks were rosy with the crisp Autumn air rushing through the trees; her little rainbow coloured scarf flapping on one shoulder. She ran ahead with her small basket, all the way to the very end of the orchard.

She stopped at the base of the very tree whose appearance seemed to drive people away and smiled at it. There was a raven sitting in one of the branches and he cocked his little head at the sight of the small child, laughing at the strangeness of the tree. He watched as she reached out a hand and placed it on the trunk, feeling the life beneath her fingertips.

The tree seemed to breathe deeply as the trunk parted and a pale arm moved out slowly, a dark red apple in its outstretched hand.

“Take it. A gift. It’s yours. Once you have eaten the apple, take the seeds and plant them. It will be your very own apple tree and I can come and visit you.”

The voice sounded sweet and warm, a vast difference to the cold and pale arm. But the girl was young. She thought nothing of the arm reaching out to her, wasn’t worried that it was not a normal thing to occur. Instead she smiled, thanked the owner of the arm and voice and politely took the apple. As she took a step back, the tree creaked and groaned as the arm slipped back within the depths of the trunk. It almost thrummed as it closed, the small thud of the trunk closing together making the raven take flight, startled.

“Lizzy! Where are you?” The girl turned as she heard her mother’s voice. Her mother ran hurriedly to where she stood beside the twisted tree. “What are you doing here? We were so worried when you ran off!”

Lizzy smiled. “A nice girl gave me an apple and said I could keep it and eat it and then plant the seeds from it.”

Her mother looked exasperated. “That’s nice, honey. We should get going now. We have enough apples to make a pie.”

Lizzy put her apple, darker than the rest, in her pocket instead of in the basket. She felt it was more special because it had been given as a present. As she took her mother’s hand and started walking away, she looked over her shoulder. There was no breeze now but the tree swayed heavily, it’s branches almost lifting in the air as though to wave goodbye.

That evening at the dining table, while her mother served everyone a hearty slice of apple pie, Lizzy refused. “I’m just going to eat this apple. It’s special.”

Her mother turned to face Lizzy’s father and cocked an eyebrow at him, while he raised his hands and laughed. “Don’t give me that look. She’s choosing the healthier option. I’m not complaining.”

Lizzy’s mother smiled back and turned to Lizzy, who was staring at the apple before she bit into it. It’s juices were sweet and a little dribbled down her chin but she caught it with a tissue. As she chewed the apple, she could taste something tangy, almost metallic. But it was still sweet at the same time and it made her crave more. Within minutes she had finished the apple and the seeds from within had been taken to one side and put on her plate.

“That was a nice apple, we should go there again soon. I like them.”

Her mother smiled widely now. “Well I’m glad you do, honey. We’ll definitely go again. How about next weekend? It should still be open for us to go.”

Lizzy nodded as she picked up her plate and excused herself, excited to go and plant her seeds. A tree of her very own. With more of those dark, juicy apples.

Many months had passed and Lizzy had the same recurring dream. A pale arm reaching out to her from the darkness, calling her name. She always forgot it by the time she was out of bed, but upon waking it left her feeling cold and she was constantly shivering. Her mother couldn’t explain why Lizzy had grown quieter, or how a small tree had quickly sprouted in her back garden. It grew at an amazing rate. And as it grew strong and tall, Lizzy grew weaker and quieter. She felt like some days she was fading or like she was invisible. There were days she called out to her mother and she never noticed her calling out to her. Then all of a sudden her mother would say, “There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!”

Lizzy would just look at her mother in confusion. She had been right there. Every time.

There was a day when her mother had woken up, many months later and Lizzy had been gone. Her bed hadn’t been slept in, her curtains and window thrown wide open. But no Lizzy. She and her husband had searched everywhere. They even went back to the orchard, just in case. A couple of hours later and the police had been called. But no Lizzy. Their grief at their only daughter going missing without a trace had been followed with humiliation and desperation. They had been blamed for her disappearance and after having dealt with the accusations for as long as they could, they eventually left the small town. They had packed up everything in their house and gone.

Four years after the disappearance and everything that followed and them leaving, a new family moved in. It was a mother with her two teenage daughters and a young son. Laura was glad she had found a house so cheap and with plenty of space for her family to grow. Her daughters, Jenny and Lisa were focused on starting their new school and the challenges that came with being ‘the new kids’.

But not Ben. Ben was six, small and dark haired and he loved playing outdoors with his ball. He was happy when he had seen the size of the back garden. It had a lawn that looked slightly overgrown but still good for playing in. The flowerbeds were bare. It was Autumn, but Autumn with the crisp feeling of Winter hanging in the air, ready to come in and take over. As he walked through the garden, his eyes were drawn to an apple tree at the end of the garden. It was different to the other apple trees he had seen before. Its leaves were a jade green and the apples it held were a blood red. He heard a caw and looked up, noticing the raven sitting in the branches. It stared at him as he examined the tree, with its twisted trunk and dark apples. As he touched the trunk, he felt it almost breathe as the trunk parted, like a sigh of happiness. He took a step back at the small arm that made its way through the trunk, hand outstretched. Lizzy smiled.

“Would you like this apple, Ben?”