The Old Apple Tree
by Irish Monahan
Suzy loved all things made from apples. Applesauce and apple dumplings were her favorite, though. Unfortunately, she would have to wait until one of her neighbors offered her some of their apples to make her special treats. The ancient apple tree in her own front yard no longer gave any fruit. Blossoms never graced the gnarled limbs that reached for the sky as if pleading with the heavens. No green sprout ever made it past the scarred bark, blackened by a lightning bolt so many years ago. She closed her eyes and dreamed of the last time she had enjoyed crisp fall apples from her own tree.
She had been a small child then, not much higher than her grandfather’s knee. The old apple tree had been ancient even then, but its bark shone with health and its limbs were covered in blankets of blossoms and green leaves. The glory of the tree during that summer had been magnificent. No apple tree on the block had larger branches. No apple tree in the town produced soSuzy loved all things made from apples. Applesauce and apple dumplings were her favorite, though. Unfortunately, she would have to wait until one of her neighbors offered her some of their apples to make her special treats. The ancient apple tree in her own front yard no longer gave any fruit. Blossoms never graced the gnarled limbs that reached for the sky as if pleading with the heavens. No green sprout ever made it past the scarred bark, blackened by a lightning bolt so many years ago. She closed her eyes and dreamed of the last time she had enjoyed crisp fall apples from her own tree.
She had been a small child then, not much higher than her grandfather’s knee. The old apple tree had been ancient even then, but its bark shone with health and its limbs were covered in blankets of blossoms and green leaves. The glory of the tree during that summer had been magnificent. No apple tree on the block had larger branches. No apple tree in the town produced somany apples. No apple tree in the county could compare to Suzy’s apple tree.
Her yard had buzzed with bees tending the great apple tree; and red-breasted robins always chose the beautifully curved branches for nesting areas. Suzy had thought a whole city could fit within its branches at the time. In a strange sort of way, she was right. Her apple tree served the masses from the tiniest of insects to the larger squirrels. Very little of the natural wildlife in the area didn’t find its way into the manicured lawn and a vacancy among the many branches of the apple tree. For the animals, Suzy’s apple tree had been the Ritz among the Holiday Inns.
Then the storm had come, raging in its beautiful fury as it whipped and tore at all things standing in its path. Suzy had crawled under her bed in fright at the majestic booms of thunder and almost instant flashes of daylight while the moon still hung skulking in the midnight sky. She had heard the punishing crack that sounded as if the whole world were splitting and felt as if her house were being swallowed in the quaking clapping of the clouds.
Whispering whiffs of acrid smoke wafted up from the ancient apple tree as it glowed eerily orange against the backdrop of pounding rain and flashing light. Suzy had screamed when something shadowy reached beneath the bed to pull her out. She hadn’t stopped trembling until she realized it was only her grandfather’s large frame that held her near. She nestled into his chest, burying her face as he carried her away from the terrifying scene beyond the paned glass in her room.
Together, they sat in the candlelit living room and watched her apple tree burn inside the barked walls as it defied the storm’s instructions to fall. Grandfather told Suzy the apple tree had another purpose and it was arguing with the storm to stay in order to fulfill that purpose. Suzy hadn’t understood him, but she was still too petrified to ask questions or pay attention to anything except the battle going on in her front lawn.
Suzy didn’t ask about her grandfather’s story in the weeks following the storm, afraid that she might call it back to her yard. She had instead stood beside her grandfather wielding the wheelbarrow as he finished what the fire had started. He chiseled and hollowed out the charred remains of wood from inside the tree’s trunk, allowing a few grunts to escape his lips as he worked. She had helped him haul off the discarded lumps of smoked green wood to be mulched later.
They worked tirelessly for more than two weeks on the old apple tree. One day, as she began to get ready to help him again with the hollowing of the tree, her grandfather stopped her.
“No, Suzy, the rest is a surprise,” he said, looking at her with twinkling eyes. “You cannot help me anymore with the tree. You need to go play with your friends.”
Suzy argued with him, knowing she wouldn’t get to help no matter how much she begged. “Please? I want to see the surprise! Can you give me a hint at least?”
“Yes, I can give you a hint. For every death, there is a birth. Your surprise is the birth that the death of the old tree has kept secret until today. Today, the old tree will release the birth that is meant to be.” His eyes wrinkled with his smile, turning their blue depths into brightly shining diamonds.
No matter how she pleaded, he would tell her no more. In defeat, she left the old tree wondering at her grandfather’s words. It hadn’t occurred to her while they were hollowing out the trunk of the apple tree that the tree was a dead thing. Other than the lingering smell of smoke, the tree felt alive to her. She wondered at what it might give birth to, but she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even sure what birth was, but she knew about death. Suzy had learned about death when the old cat had died. She tried to remember what had been born after the cat died, but couldn’t think of anything called birth at all.
Suzy finally gave up and skipped off to visit the other little girls she played with on her street. Her mind wandered all day as she thought of the surprise her grandfather had said the tree held. Later, she wouldn’t remember that she’d played hopscotch with Betty and won three times or that Sally had told her Johnny liked her. In fact, her day of playing would be forever lost. Suzy would only remember the discovery of what her grandfather meant about death and birth.
When at last her grandfather came to collect her a little before dinner, his sweat stained face glowed. He nearly skipped all the way down the road to their house, and his excitement was catching. Suzy chattered all the way home, filled with questions on what had been born while she was away playing.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” her grandfather repeated mysteriously to each of her questions.
As Suzy caught a glimpse of the tree in her yard, her heart sank. It looked no different than it had when she left. Nothing new stood in its place. Nosigns of change shone from its bark. The gnarled limbs remained bare and lifeless against the sky and the lingering scent of smoke still clung to it. Yet, her grandfather’s excitement reached a new peak. He almost danced as he pulled her faster toward the old tree. Suzy could only hope whatever her grandfather saw that she couldn’t was worth the exuberance of his reaction.
She smiled dutifully until her grandfather had pulled her around to the side of the tree that had been blocked from her view-the side they had chiseled away at for so many days. Her mouth gaped open and her eyes bulged in disbelieve. Her apple tree was no longer just an apple tree. Inside the hollowed out trunk sat a tiny wooden chair and a small bookshelf. On the bookshelf all of her favorite books sat waiting for her, calling her name as they had done since she had discovered them. On the top of the bookshelf, a small battery powered lantern illuminated the tree with a warming glow.
When Suzy lifted herself into the trunk to explore, she found that it was just the right size for her. She had several inches of ceiling above her and she could walk around about five paces. She noticed the heavy black cloth rolled above the doorway that hadn’t been visible from the outside of the tree.
Suzy slowly let down the curtained door as her grandfather encouraged her cheerfully from his spot in the yard. Immediately, a whole world came to be for her as the small room engulfed her in soft lantern light. The real world outside ceased to exist.
She could hear her grandfather, and thought to thank him for her surprise. Peeking her head out of her door, she softly whispered her gratitude and disappeared once more behind her sanctuary’s door to explore what awaited her inside her books. She couldn’t wait to get started. Soon, everything was forgotten as she poured over the words from a book she knew well.
Suzy had spent hours in the old apple tree. She went there in all weather when she needed to be alone to think. The books had changed over the years, but the tree’s gift had not. It had protected her against her tears when her feelings ached and granted her a vacation to the beach the summer she had chicken pox. The old tree had nursed her heartache when she’d lost her first boyfriend and had listened to every wrong the planet had done to her throughout her teenage years.
The wind rustled more swiftly and blew Suzy’s hair into her face. With a smile, she sent her memories of yesterday upon it. She thought of the day when her own daughters and granddaughters would discovered the gift the old apple tree had died to bring the family when she herself had been a but a child.
Turning slowly, Suzy walked back into her home. Someone had to get her children up for school.
