Never Swim in Applesauce (2 page)

When our field-trip day finally came, I woke up extra early to be sure I wouldn't miss anything.

Turns out four in the morning is a little
too
early.

Moms and dads are very grumbly that time of day.

After I took the bus to school, we did the usual morning stuff.

The Pledge of a Wee Gent.

Morning Nouncements.

Calendar.

Weather.

And Sharing Time.

I shared Hazel's magic fortune-telling ball.

It was my second time sharing it.

But Ms. Diz said that was okay because I was clearly very attached to it.

Also, it was my last day of having the ball.

After school I had to give it back to Hazel.

She'd reminded me at breakfast.

Twice.

The first time I shared the ball, I had forgotten to ask it a yes-or-no question.

This time I asked it, “Will this be my
most funnest day ever?”

I turned it over and checked the answer.

“‘OUTLOOK CLOUDY,'” I read.

“It's going to rain?” Gus cried. “But that means no apple picking!”

“I think the ball means a different kind of cloudy,” said Ms. Diz. “It means it's not sure what the answer is. But let's remember it's just a toy, and toys can't tell the future.
Besides, I think it's a pretty safe bet that today will be a fun day for all of you.”

At last we lined up and headed outside to the field-trip bus.

I sat next to Emma. She's my best friend.

Gus sat in front of us. He's my other best friend.

Gus had to sit next to Wyatt.

Sometimes I call Wyatt “Bully Breath.”

When I do that, Mom corrects me. “Let's just say that Wyatt does not exactly have a winning personality,” she says.

But that's way too many words to remember.

Today we had to be polite to Wyatt because he was part of our apple-picking team.

On the bus there were some moms and dads, but my mom and dad couldn't come because they had to work.

Which was okay. Because sometimes parents can be embarrassing.

Like when they wipe your nose with a tissue when you have a perfectly good sleeve available.

Before we got going, Ms. Diz stood up at the front of the bus.

We were pretty exuberant.

Emma taught me that word. She likes words a lot.

It means “full of excitement.”

Only
exuberant
sounds better.

We were so exuberant, I'll bet Ms. Diz wished she had her gong with her.

“I know you're all thrilled about our first field trip!” said Ms. Diz when we finally quieted down. “Now, when we first arrive at the orchard, we are going to listen to a lecture. After that we will pick apples. Do you all remember the rule we talked about?”

“Stay with your apple team!” we yelled.

“This is our very first field trip,” Ms. Diz said. “So
please
let's be on our best behavior, okay, kids? No trouble, or we won't be able to have another trip someday.”

The bus engine roared. We waved
good-bye to our school.

“Happy apples, here we come!” I said.

All the way to the apple farm we sang a fun song.

It is called “One Hundred Apples Up High in a Tree.”

Here is how it goes. In case you ever drive to an apple farm and need some entertainment.

Then you sing “Ninety-nine apples up high in a tree.”

Then ninety-eight.

Then ninety-seven.

You keep on going until you get to “One apple up high in a tree.”

And then—bam! You start all over again.

We sang that song a zillion times.

And nobody ever got tired of it.

Except I think maybe Coco's mom didn't like it so much.

On account of she put Kleenex in her ears.

Happy Apple Orchard had rows and rows of apple trees.

And a tour guy to show us how to pick apples. He had a green shirt with a red apple on the pocket.

His name was Abe.

Abe said apples are good for you. So it's not even cheating that they taste good too.

Abe showed us how the inside of the
apple has little black seeds in it.

Whole entire trees grow up from them!

Abe told us that the fuzzy part at the bottom of an apple is called a sepal.

He also said most of an apple is made of water, but there's some air in there too.

That's why apples float!

Finally the learning part was over and it was time to PICK!

Abe gave each team a big basket to carry their apples in.

“Now, here's what we're going to do,” he said. “Each apple team will get their own tree. You may pick as many apples as you like, until your arms get tired or your basket is full. Whichever comes first.”

Each of our apple teams had four people. And each team was named after a kind of apple.

There was a Golden Delicious Team.

And a Gala Team.

And a McIntosh Team.

We were the Granny Smith Team.

Granny Smith is the name of a sourish green apple.

It is probably the name of somebody's grandma too.

“These baskets hold a lot of apples, my friends. Do you think you will be able to pick that
many?” Abe asked.

I pulled Hazel's magic fortune-telling ball out of my jeans pocket.

“Magic ball, will the Granny Smiths pick a whole basket of apples?” I asked.

I turned it over.

“It says ‘NO WAY,'” I said.

“I'll bet you can do it,” Abe said. “Especially with the help of a picking pole.”

Abe passed each of us a long pole.

At the end of each pole was a little net.

Like a basketball net. Only closed up at the bottom.

“These are picking poles,” said Abe. “Think of them as your apple catchers.”

“And be very careful with them,” Ms.

Diz added.

“Now follow me, pickers!” Abe said.

He led us down a trail past lines of apple trees.

He stopped and pointed to a big tree. It had a zillion branches sticking out like big brown arms.

“Granny Smiths, you're first up,” he said. “Meet your tree! These are called winesap apples.”

It was cool and shadowy under the branches.

Red apples hung down everywhere.

Some were even on the ground.

“Don't eat the ones that have fallen,” Abe warned. “They might be rotten. And don't eat the ones you pick from the trees until they've been washed.”

Abe borrowed my picking pole and held it up high.

He tapped an apple. It plopped into the little net.

He lowered the stick and held up the apple.

“See?” he said. “That's how you do it. Easy as apple pie.”

Abe looked more closely at the apple. “Oops. This one's a dud.”

He tossed the apple over his shoulder. “There's a worm in that one. If you see an apple with a hole in it, there might be a worm inside.”

The class made lots of
ewww!
noises.

“Okay, Granny Smiths,” Abe said, “get to work. I'm going to take the other teams to their trees.”

Let me tell you something. Those apples don't exactly
want
to get picked!

They must be pretty happy just hanging there like shiny decorations.

Because some of them hold on awfully tight.

After a while I figured out how to tap
hard with my apple picker.

An apple fell right in!

I pulled down my stick. There in my net was a bright red apple.

It even had a tiny green leaf on the stem.

I put it in our basket.

Emma and Gus and Wyatt each put an apple in too.

“My apple's bigger than your puny one,” Wyatt said to me.

I decided to ignore him.

That's usually the best way to deal with Wyatt.

“We'll have a full basket in no time!” Emma said.

I gathered more apples.

One. Two. Three. Four.

It's a whole lot easier just to buy one of those bags of apples at the grocery store.

I was on apple number ten when I heard Wyatt yell, “Look at this sucker!”

He held a great big apple in front of my face.

It was awfully big, I had to admit.

But then I saw an even better apple.

Way up high.

The biggest, shiniest, most juiciest apple in Happy Apple Orchard!

I took a swing at that humongous apple and missed by a mile.

Then Wyatt saw it too.

“It's the hugest apple on the planet!” Wyatt cried.

“It's
my
apple!” I said.

“Not if I'm the one who picks it!” he said.

We both swung our sticks at that
gigantic apple.

And we both missed.

We swung again.

Crack!
Our sticks hit with a loud whack.

“Boys,” Ms. Diz warned, “careful with the sticks!”

“It's just one apple, you know,” Emma said. “There are hundreds of apples on this tree.”

“It's a super apple!” I corrected.

“It's Gigantor, the Killer Apple from Outer Space!” Wyatt added.

“Wow,” Gus said. “It looks like a basketball!”

I swung and missed again.

“Guys,” Emma said, “our basket is only half full. Everybody else has a ton of apples.”

“But they don't have the Awesome, Amazing Super Apple!” Wyatt said.

He swung again and missed.

I had an idea.

“Gus,” I said. “Come here. It's time for a ladder.”

“We don't have a ladder,” Gus pointed out.

“I'll be the ladder,” I said.

I got down on my hands and knees.

“Oh.” Gus grinned. “I get it.”

Gus climbed up on my back. He used his stick for balance.

“Ow,” I said. “Ow, ow, ow. Hurry, Gus. Your ladder can't take much more of this.”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Gus kept missing. “Keep still. It's hard to balance when your ladder keeps breathing,” he complained.

“Hey, it's cheating if you have to step on a friend,” Wyatt said.

“I don't mind,” I said.

Even though Gus was turning out to be way heavier than I'd expected.

“Emma,” Wyatt said. “Come here. I need to step on you.”

“Excuse me? Emma said. She laughed. “No way, Wyatt.”

Wyatt turned to Gus.

“Gus,” he said. “We need to work together. Stay on Roscoe. I'll climb on your shoulders and whack that apple down.”

“How about I climb on you?” Gus asked.

“How about nobody else climbs on me?” I asked.

“I'm taller than you,” Wyatt said to Gus.

Gus nodded. “Can't argue with that.”

“Yes you can,” said Emma. “And are you three aware that this is dumb?”

“I agree with Emma,” I said with a groan. “And my back agrees too.”

Just then somebody yelled a cover-your-ears kind of yell. “OUCH! I'm hit! Call 9-1-1!”

Emma went to find out what was going on.

“It's just Coco,” Emma said when she came back. “An apple fell on her head.”

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder.

All the teachers and parents were busy with Coco.

“The coast is clear,” said Wyatt. “Stand still, Gus.”

Gus stayed on me.

Wyatt climbed on him.

“UGH,” I said.

One kid is heavy.

Two kids is
too
heavy.

“I am thinking this is a way not-good idea,” I said.

I wobbled.

Gus wobbled.

Wyatt wobbled and whacked.

Whack! Whack!

Plop!

“I GOT IT!” Wyatt yelled.

Just before he fell.

And Gus fell.

On me.

“Ouch,” I said.

“YOU ouch? What about ME?” Wyatt said, rubbing his elbow. “I was on top.”

“Yeah, but I was on the bottom,” I said with a groan.

Ms. Diz ran over.

“Boys, what on earth is going on here?” she asked.

“Check out this apple, Ms. Diz!” Wyatt cried.

He pulled that beauty out of the net.

“Let's eat it!” I said.

“Roscoe Riley!” Ms. Diz said. “The apples have to be washed first.”

“It's bigger than a melon,” Gus said.

“It's bigger than a Halloween pumpkin,” I said.

“It's just an apple!” Emma said.

“No more misbehaving, boys,” Ms. Diz warned.

“Sorry,” we all said.

“You want to be able to go on other field trips, don't you?” Ms. Diz added.

“I vote for the doughnut place next time,” I said.

“We'll see,” said Ms. Diz. “It will depend on how much I can trust you to behave.”

“Five more minutes of picking!” called Abe.

Which was good news.

My arms were tired. And so was my back.

Plus I was kind of sore from being smushed.

I guess Gus and Wyatt were tired too.

Because they sat on the ground with me while Emma kept picking.

I think maybe she's tougher than us guys.

Thanks to Emma, we got that basket almost filled.

But not quite.

“The magic fortune-telling ball was right!” I said. “We didn't fill our basket. But we did get the giant apple.”

“Can I see that ball?” Emma asked.

I took it out of my pocket and handed it to her.

She shook the ball. “Magic ball,” Emma said, “who should get to take home most of the apples since she did all the work?”

Emma turned over the ball. She grinned.

“‘EMMA SHOULD, BECAUSE THOSE GUYS WERE BUSY FIGHTING LIKE MORONS OVER AN APPLE,'” she read.

I am pretty sure she was just pretending, though.

Because that is for sure not a yes-or-no kind of answer.