"Kieran!"
My voice didn't have a hope to rise above the cacophony of children bleeding into the orchard. An entire mass of them moved like locusts descending upon the feast, their parents long since left behind to trudge up the hill.
Only my son glanced back, the sea of taller children threatening to consume him. While I hoped he'd wait, the allure proved too much. In an instant, he turned on his heels and scampered towards a tree. Three other children flocked the branches, most taller than my boy. Kieran ducked down and scampered closer to the trunk, his hands scrabbling for the blushing apples hidden amongst the leaves.
"Your father is acquiring a bucket right now," I sighed, glancing towards the twisting line of parents left to pay for the privilege of bringing in the farmer's crop. A rather satisfying deal on their end.
A giggle of joy drew me from the manure-stench of the barn to gaze upon an unending field of apple trees. They fanned out like autumn's army waiting for orders to march upon the winter forest. My boy's hands cupped to his chest, a red apple bigger than both his palms cradled safely. The exuberant eyes of an ever distracted seven-year-old shattered expectations by honing upon the apple and refusing to lift. As Kieran laughed again, I accepted that the long drive, the trek out to some bird-woman's farm, and the threat of tick embedding was worth it for his smile.
I let my eyes drift off Kieran, about to look for his father, when a hand whipped through the air and plunged greedy fingers to his apple. "Hey!" Kieran shouted, trying to protect his get while the larger boy puffed himself up.
"Gimme that! It's mine."
"Is not. I found it," my son shouted, trying to tuck the apple in safer to his chest. Which was when the bully slapped at his hand. Still Kieran wouldn't acquiesce, even with a pink handprint rising from where that monster struck my son. My gait elongated, thunderstorms trailing my steps towards the children.
"Give it now!" the cretin shrieked. Greedy fingers dug into both the flesh of the apple and my son's. It proved too much as Kieran cried, the sound rattling my soul, and he released the apple into the bully's hands.
"Ha!" the child crowed, holding aloft his prize as if he earned it. Piggish eyes narrowed upon my boy and the bully yanked his hand back to slap Kieran once more.
My fingers snaked around the child's wrist, holding it tight above his head. He screamed as if my grip was lava. How I wished it were so, but aside from keeping the monster from doing as he wanted, I caused him no harm.
I stared into the black eyes of the child, chaos and cruelty already sewn into the makeup of someone not yet ten. "Do not hit my son or you shall suffer beyond imagination." My tone must have punctured through even that Dunning-Krueger armor as the child nodded dumbly. "And return that which you stole."
The bully glanced towards Kieran, who held both his hands out, but he flinched from doing the right thing. With a sigh, I plucked the apple free and held it far above the child's head. "You should be punished for such atrocities," I muttered, releasing the boy's arm.
"Oi! Let go of 'im!"
My eyes rolled at the voice ordering me to do that which I already did. Turning, I spotted a mass of a man stumbling towards me. He wore all his strength in his gut, as if he'd swallowed every ego-boosting lie, every assurance from society that he was important, and honestly believed them. His legs hustled up the hill as I folded my arms, the apple tucked safely in my palm. I shifted to hide Kieran from view as the creator of the child bully thundered towards us.
"Don't you fucking dare touch my kid!" he shrieked.
"Perhaps you should try parenting your child, then the rest of us wouldn't need to bother."
Red splotches formed over his face like mold sporing upon a film of fat. He tried to puff his deflated chest out as if I'd be either impressed or scared. Knowing what was to come, I turned to Kieran and told him, "Go and pick some more apples."
"Yes, Mummy," he mumbled, shuffling away from both me and the man who should be shooting steam from his nose. I maintained my typical cool-exterior which was only enflaming him more.
"Hey! Hey, get him back here! Your snotty brat stole from my kid!"
The kid in that situation fell silent, no longer wishing to use either his words or fists. No, it was all on the father, the larger copy as it were, to attempt to browbeat me into giving him what he wanted.
"You mean this apple that my child in fact picked and your son then hit mine in order to thieve away?" I lofted the apple before the man's face, his eyes bulging as I didn't cower and plead for him to forgive me. Men of his ilk feasted upon women who shackled themselves to the cult of nice. Against me, he had no power. Not that he had any to begin with.
His lip curled, as if the man intended to rip my throat out with his teeth. "Bitch whore, dressed like a slut. You aren't gonna tell me a fucking thing."
"As it would be a waste of both our time," I responded, eyeing up the man. Whether he caught the barb or was simply upset that I continued to have a voice it was difficult to discern. What was not was how his rage threatened to spew out of his ears.
"You!" He turned on his son, cuffing the boy by the arm and dragging him closer. "Is this yours?" He jabbed at the apple I kept in my hand. The boy mumbled, his eyes shifting over the trampled ground. "I said did this she-bitch steal it from you?"
"Mmyes," the child fumbled, flinching at both the lie and the fear of retaliation if he told the truth.
"Fucking finally," the man cursed, releasing his hold on the boy. He extended the no doubt sticky fingers flat and cocked his head. "Well…"
"Well what?" I asked.
"Shit you're dumb. Give it over before I get the cops involved."
I snickered at the threat, though he did look like a man who'd call the police if a trashcan fell over in his driveway all while never having to worry about the mountain of dirt hidden under his rugs. My body didn't shift, the apple held tight in my fingers as I stared around the teeming orchard. A few of the other adults drifted closer at the screaming, but once they spotted a man harassing a woman they all vanished behind trees.
There were certainly enough apples to go around. No reason to fight over one when it was easy to give in to the whims of a bully. Which was precisely the wrong message to teach my son. I lifted the apple into the air, twisting it between my fingers. "It's not yours, you cretin."
"Bitch!" he lashed out, fingers clamping to my wrist. The grip suckered to my skin, a thousand times tighter than what I did to his son. I shifted, prepared to teach the man just how much damage a steel-tipped boot can do to external genitals, when I caught what made my son pick this apple in the first place.
As my leg lowered to the ground, the bully snatched away the coveted apple. He released my hand, red welts rising from his grip, but I only stared back. My cold eyes burned into both his meaty face and the fruit he stole from a child. With a laugh, he placed the apple to his teeth and took a massive bite.
Which was when a warm smile wormed up my lips. I paid no heed to the pain he caused to my arm, only grinned at the man who flinched against the abyss. "Come on," he shoved at his son, scampering away from me. But, he made certain to take another bite of the stolen apple.
"Mummy!" Tiny hands overladen with fruit bumped into my back. Keiran's exuberant eyes warmed my heart, his full arms cinched tight as I swiped back a lock of his fallen hair. "Look at all the apples I got!"
"I see. You did an excellent job."
My son smiled at the praise, his chin rising higher until he spotted the two generations of bullies walking down the lane. The father stopped and seemed to be staring harder at what he bit into. "Is that my apple?"
"Yes."
My little entomologist scrunched up his nose. "Does he know it's got a worm in it?"
A retching noise broke through the idyllic farm, the bully bent over to try and no doubt vomit up half of an eaten caterpillar. "He does now," I said with a chuckle. "Come on," I shook away the monster who tried to ruin our day and rubbed Kieran's shoulders, "let's find you another caterpillar."
As my son led me into the trees, my ears listened to the blustering blather of a man choking upon his own comeuppance.