Forbidden Fruit

It's late and I'm not tired.
Unfortunately, I can' think of a thing to write about.
I could write about the usual....my friends (whom I spent a lovely evening with), my son (who also spent a lovely evening with me), running (it's good for me to stay FOCUSED on it...not so good for you to read about EVERY DAY).
I could b.s about inconsequential things that have happened in my day (really, I promised that this blog would be about inconsequential things so I should blog about that. Just for spite).....(Have I told you that I really DO amuse myself!!!)
Instead, I'm going to give you a key.
The key to me....or one of them, anyways.
(I'm going to tread lightly here. People are actually starting to read this thing. -I KNOW! Can you BELIEVE IT!? And baring my soul to the world is difficult, especially when the world has a face.)
Tonight I'm, going to tell a story about the one man in my life who NEVER let me down.
My Grandfather. Grampa to be exact.
Sometimes you meet a person and things just ARE. You CLICK. You share a bond, unexplained by common ideas or general perception.
That's how my relationship with my Grandfather was.
Grampa wasn't even related by blood. He was actually my ...step grandfather?
..........................................................................................................................................................................

Can't do it. Not tonight. It makes me sad to think of all the time I wasted with him and now he's gone.
So, to quote myself (because I find me fascinating), I'm going to pull me up by the boot straps (really I didn't fall. I just don't want to be sad tonight)and write about something else. (But I'm not going to erase Grampa)
..........................................................................................................................................................................

So, the following is a true story.


......The little girl stood looking forlornly at the hill in front of her.
The pigtails hung from her head desperately needing a brush. The dirt on her knees fresh from a recent adventure.
She knew that she must never climb the hill. Most definitely should never cross that chain link fence. And absolutely, should NEVER take that lime from that little tree, growing in the neighbors yard.
But there was nobody around. And they had told her not to play by the pool.
There were very few options left.
She went back down the side of the house to peak around the corner.
Good, nobody there!
Turning quietly, she nimbly tiptoed back to the side of that ever so steep, hill.
First one foot and then the next broke through the invisible border that meant there was no going back.
Down on her hands and knee snow, she climbed. Higher. Higher. The hill so steep, she slid back down with each step forward.
She would have to work harder, go faster, to make it to the top.
Sand and rocks tumbled to the bottom every time she broke new ground. She worried that someone would hear her. Would know what she was attempting by the rattling of the rocks hitting cement.
More than half way up, she stops.
Clinging to the side of the hill she stills her breath. Calms herself enough to listen for the telltale signs of adults coming to scold.
Satisfied after a few moments, she moves on.
It's close now. The top of the hill.
A few more nicks to her hands and knees and she's there. Kneeling at the bottom of the chain link fence.
Staring through it to the forbidden fruit on the other side.
She knew she should turn around. Knew that if she continued she would be breaking an unspoken law. A law written by the adults who tried to control her.
She linked her fingers in the fence. Hitched one dirty little shoe up and jammed it, hard, into that same fence.
Pulling herself up, up ....and almost over. She clings now to the top of the fence. Metal biting into her skin.
Throwing her leg over and pushing off at the same time, she falls to the ground, catching her shirt as she goes.
Slowly, she turns around.
There, gleaming in the sun, hangs the lime. Only a few feet away now.
As she crosses the newly cut grass to the lime, she wonders. She thinks about the lime and all it has to offer. All it symbolizes.
Now standing beneath the little tree she lifts a pudgy hand to touch it. Is it ready? It's so smooth and bumpy, at the same time.
Quickly, she makes up her mind.
She plucks the lime from the tree and turns, running back to the fence. She knows that someone from that house is on his way out to yell at her. Demand she give the lime back.
Scrambling now, without caution, she races back over the fence. Falling to the ground, she slides on her backside, down the hill.
She's not looking back. Not yet.
Rocks and dirt, again, tumble to the cement beneath. Racing her. Pushing her to keep up.
There now. Finally.
Turning around she does a crablike shuffle to the side of her own home. And there she huddles, quietly for a few moments; catching her breath.
She's amazed that no one is chasing her. She's amazed that she's made it this far. She's amazed that she now holds a bright, shiny new lime in her grimy hand!
She puts the lime in her mouth to break the thin skin. Hmmm, a little tart. But that's just the skin.
She sinks her fingernails into the puncture and pries the skin from the lime. One sliver at a time, shredding it to pieces. Dropping them, uncaring, to the ground.
Finally, the peal is off! She tears it apart, like she's done hundreds of times with the oranges her mother has given her.
She finds one piece, just right.
She lifts it to her lips and shoves the whole piece into her greedy little mouth.
She bites down, releasing the juice.
What's THIS? Ewww, she cringes!
It's awful. So tart!
She spits it to the ground and throws the remaining lime at the hill; where it bounces and rolls back down to rest at her feet.
A little girl's dreams, shattered.





HA HA! That's all folks! That's, more or less, what I wrote for an assignment in the 6th grade. I think it was better then. I got an A+ for it. But then, standards were low, it was the 6th grade.
Then again, the teacher was Ms. Switalski, she didn't just give grades away. Even to her favorites! (yep, I was a little bit of a brown noser. But she WAS A COOL TEACHER!!)

Anyways, next time I'll write about something interesting. And not this silly trip down memory lane!