When Fruit Rots
As old Teresa King awoke one morning from an uneasy night, she found herself transformed into a small guava. She tried pushing her covers so she could see her surroundings. The fruit rolled out of the covers and looked around. The blinds covered the window so a little sun entered her room. It was the average old person room. There were old photographs of the 1950’s on the dresser and the “tele” covered in dust. There was a chair with a hamper of dirty clothes and a coat hanger with one coat on it.
A small child ran into the room and opened the blinds. The light shone in bright and the guava shone like the jewelry on the dresser. The child was dressed in khaki shorts with a white polo shirt tucked in. “GRANDMA! HEY GRANDMA! WAKE UP OLD LADY!” the boy yelled, thinking she was still under the covers. The guava turned and observed the chubby kid yelling at the top of his lungs for her. She tried rolling off the bed to roll out the room. But a faint yell was heard from downstairs.
“Timmy the bus is here. Get your lunch.” As the guava began to roll towards the door, the kid ran out, closing the door behind him.
So close. The guava thought. I never enjoyed having him around the house. Things were perfectly fine ten years ago, but my stupid daughter had to get pregnant. Now how am I going to do the laundry now? The guava shook as if it wanted to shake his head.
The mom downstairs was wiping jelly on a piece of toast. “Hey honey, your lunch is on the table.”
“Thanks mom,” he sprinted out to catch the bus. But he stopped midway and said, “Something is wrong with Grandma. She didn’t wake up when I yelled at her to wake up.”
“I’ll check on her. Go to school. Bye.” Timmy left. The mom went back to her toast and grabbed another piece to wipe peanut butter onto.
Back upstairs, the guava continued to find a way out of her room. Hours passed and there was still no way out. She leaned against the door and fell asleep from all the thinking she had done. Heavy steps echoed from someone coming up. Timmy swung the door opened and flung the guava to the wall. It crashed hard and a pink juice began to roll down. The guava fell onto the hamper and Timmy looked around.
“HEY GRANDMA! Mom wants to know when you’re going to start on the laundry. This is my last pair of clean uniform.” He walked to the bathroom to check and came back. He noticed the bed was still a mess. He pulled the covers off to find nothing. He glanced at the hamper of clothes and saw the green fruit. He picked it up and it felt really soft and delicate. He examined it turned it over. “Hmph, I never knew Grandma liked guavas.” He grabbed the hamper and tossed the fruit into it.
Timmy walked downstairs and cried, “HEY MOM, Grandma is too lazy to my laundry.” He looked down at the fruit, “And I found this guava in her room.”
“Let me see that.” She grabbed the fruit and she smelled it. “Well, it smells fresh, but it feels lumpy.”
“Mom, I think that’s Grandma.”
“Why do you say that, Timmy?” she asked”
“Because, she has been missing all day and the guava is small and plump and squishy, just like her.” He grabbed it again and began to roll it on the table.
“Well you do have a point there. Let’s test your theory son.” She grabbed a small candle and put it a foot away from the fruit. She lit it and wafted the smoke to the fruit. “If I know Mom, she will roll to that cinnamon scented candle.” And just as she said, it quickly rolled to the candle.
“It is Grandma!” he cheered. “Now what do we do with her?”
“I guess you could leave her with the rest of the fruits. She will like that.” Timmy grabbed her and tossed her into the basket of fresh fruit. Old Teresa looked at her only family as they abandoned her with the rest of the fruit.
Days passed and Teresa watched the morning routine of her daughter and Timmy hurrying up for school. Then her daughter making phone calls and allowing customers into her house to buy her products. So much time had gone by that it fruit flies began to buzz around her. Black spots had formed around her.
One day Timmy finally walked by and saw that the fruit was rotting. “Hey mom, this fruit looks pretty gross, do I throw it away?
“Yeah, go ahead” Timmy grabbed it and pretended it was a basketball.
“There’s two second on the buzzer and,” he threw it into the trash can, “the crowd goes wild. Timmy has done it again.”