Chapter 3

The sun streaked through the branches of the large apple tree in the Faber's back yard. Its leaves were a lush green in the fullness of the season, yet they hung low with the burden of the apples hanging fresh and ripe red. Beth put her hand up to shield her eyes from the glimmer of sunlight blinding her vision whenever the branches shifted and danced from the light breeze. It was a glorious day, it felt the best time to be free. Mrs Faber came onto her back porch, a tray of lemonade in hand and she called out to Beth.

"Before you get pickin', you'll have a drink young lady!"

"Thank you Dol, I'll be over in a minute. Good thing we have the whole day, there's a bumper crop here I can see that." Beth called back happily, she felt lighter today than she had in weeks. Soaking up the sunshine and the smell of fresh grass and clear air was good for the soul; she could forget everything that involved feeling stifled. Most importantly, she could forget Percy Wetmore.

She walked over to her friend, the elders stoop increasing weekly and her speed slower, yet the smile never faded. When Beth was a child Mrs Faber had been a glamorous middle aged woman, now she was a faded beauty, but no crow's feet or thinning of the face could dim the happy glimmer of her friendly eyes. Taking a glass in her hand, the pair sat together on the bench, Beth taking a deep sip of the sweet, tangy liquid.

"Now ain't that makin' the day better?" Dolores Faber asked, nudging Beth a little with her bony elbow. "How many pies you think we gonna be makin' from those apples?"

"Enough for the entire street I should wonder."

"You're sweet comin' still helping me with these even now you're a young lady."

"You taught me how to make the sweetest fillings and the softest crusts, why would I leave such expertise?" Beth joked.

"I did miss you those years when you couldn't come." Dolores reached over and squeezed her young companion's hand. "But I'm glad we can keep up the tradition now."

Beth took another sip and looked down across the deep lush lawn and at the great apple tree with its burdened, heavy branches begging to have its spoils picked. The sun and the company warmed her; it was beautiful day for sure.

After a few minutes she took out her safety pin and pinned her dressed as Dolores had taught her that first time she picked apples when she was 9 years old. Now fifteen years had passed by and she did it whenever the occasion called. Dolores had taught her more of such little things like that than her mother ever had. But then her mother had always been working, she had never been around enough to teach the little things. Beth held nothing against her mother though, she might have missed the little things, but her hard work provided the important, practical ones.

"I'm getting' to work now, Dol."

"Okay little lady, I'll have some of this lemonade for you when you're done. Don't stretch too high; there ain't two of us now."

"Nor you we have Harry to lift me into those high spots." Beth laughed lightly, standing up and dusting herself off. Harry has been Dolores' only son, he'd moved away some years ago and had once taken pity on twelve year old Beth and gave her her first kiss. As children he would lift her up into the top branches for he was a giant though only three years her senior. Those were the idyllic years of apple picking. Gathering the basket from by the door, Beth walked to the apple tree and set to work.

For the next three hours she reached, picked and placed those apples, scrambling up and down the ladder with the agility of a cat. She felt like the sun fuelled her energy, though it would bake her skin a golden brown by the end of the day she knew. By the end, the basket was full and it took a heavy burst of energy to lug the bumper crop back to the kitchen. Dolores clapped her hands when she saw the abundance and she patted Beth's cheek affectionately.

"Well done, my sweet."

The pair sat once again on the porch and sipped at lemonade, the sun was dipping down towards late afternoon now, the breeze cooler but pleasant. Dolores was thinking to herself and after a few minutes silence, Beth asked.

"Those must be some deep thoughts, Dol."

"I was thinking about the nice young lady two doors down, she told me her little ones are fond of apple pie but her tree is small and spoils fast from the flies. Would you mind taking her some?"

"Not at all." Beth offered with a smile and getting up she bundled a few dozen into her apron, thinking little of it until Dolores looked at her. "Will she mind them being brought like this?"

"I doubt it, she seems a nice girl, her kids will have eyes as big as dishes when they see what you bringin'."

Thinking nothing of it, Beth carried the apples in her apron, holding the hem bundled in her hands. Arriving at the door of the nice, simple house she knocked lightly and waited. The sound of footsteps and the unlocking of the front door brought out the friendly smile of Beth but when the door opened she couldn't help but be taken aback. Instead of a young woman stood there, a man was. A man she had met only two days previous.

"Mr Stanton!" She exclaimed, "I did not know this was your house!"

Dean looked from her surprised face to the apples bundled in her apron, when his eyes met her again she felt embarrassed and more like her drab little self from the days previous. Thankfully now she was not covered in grime, though her dewy skin, curling hair and marked dress had a similar ring from when they had first met.

"Hello." He said politely.

"Mrs Faber sent these for your wife; I believe they're to make a pie for your kids."

The remark was obvious and stupid, but she needed something she could say comfortably. Dean looked back at the apples and smiled.

"That's very kind of her." He remarked. "Would you like a hand?"

"I think it might be better if I brought 'em into the kitchen like this, we don't want them rolling all over now. It would be a pity to bruise them."

"Of course, of course." He stuttered quickly, stepping back and allowing her to come by. Beth followed him to the kitchen; she could hear his children playing in an adjacent room. His wife, a pretty brunette carrying a small bump of new life turned to the pair and looked from Dean to Beth.

"Mrs Faber sent these round for you, June."

June Stanton came over and looked into the crop concealed in Beth's apron and her face grew all the prettier from a beaming smile.

"Oh my, the babies will be so pleased with these, they so love apple pie. How thoughtful of Dolores to remember my sayin' so!"

"I gathered lots, there'll be a production line of pies comin'. Dolores taught me to make them like no other." Beth explained in a friendly tone.

"That's the kind of cooking I wish we had on the mile." Dean remarked, but his mention of the mile threw Beth off a little.

"Do you two know each other?" June asked, looking at Beth.

"Yes, I work a little at the Pen, cleaning and such." Beth stammered.

"I don't know how you stand it, Dean doesn't tell me much about what goes on there but I can' imagine it's not nice for a girl such as yoursel'."

Beth thought how Mrs Stanton wouldn't consider her a nice girl if she knew the truth, it shamed her.

"Well… I spend…" Beth faltered; Dean could not have missed the panic in her face. "I spend most of my time in there cleaning, I don't… I haven't…. there's been no cause for me to go on there…"

June Stanton smiled at her to try and rebalance the situation and she brought round a low box for Beth to tip the apples into.

"I best be getting' back." Beth said, dusting her hands down. "It was nice to meet you Mrs Stanton, I hope your children enjoy the pies you're gonna make."

Dean followed her to the door and opened it gallantly, stepping outside onto their porch, Beth felt the breeze blow against her face, it didn't revive her this time. Not wanting to be rude, she turned back to Dean who was regarding her with an unreadable expression.

"Thank Mrs Faber for us." He said politely.

"I will."

They looked at one another a moment and Dean stepped forward a little and said in an almost brotherly way.

"You know we got an execution comin' up?"

"I had heard."

"Have you heard about Mr Jingles?"

"A little from…" Beth stopped, she wasn't saying his name today. "I heard he is somethin'."

"He is."

"Well…" Beth said swallowing hard. "Enjoy the apples."

Beth offered a small, forced smile and turned away, walking down the Stanton's path. Each step away from their porch allowed her mortification to fill her face. Her cheeks burned fiercely and her stomach flipped back and forth. By the time she reached Dolores' house again all she wanted to do was rush upstairs and cry. But that wasn't her home and she was offering her services to her aging friend for a few more hours yet. She would have to pull herself together to avoid Dolores' worrying. She stood one Dolores' front porch, her hand almost touching the door handle when a few seemingly close to her ear from someone behind whispered harshly.

"Beth."

She jumped, crying aloud a little and turned quickly to face her assailant. But there was no one there, her only assailant being the fear inside her head. The entire front was drenched in sunny silence, only she stood there. Tears spilled onto her cheeks now and a self loathing seemed to fill her and darken the world around. There were some things she couldn't ever fully escape from.