Saturday, October 11, 2008

Peaches by Tulah Dixie

Molly was soaking wet, thanks to the stupid umbrella with the broken spokes that she held over her head awkwardly. As she reached her front door, she opened and closed it rapidly a few times, shaking the rain off of it, then set it against the wall. She had spent the day gathering job applications, walking around town because she couldn't afford bus fare. Not if she wanted to eat dinner the next day. Her feet ached in her thin-soled shoes, and after letting herself inside, she kicked them across the small room. A decent pair of shoes would be the first thing she bought when she came into some money. Not the $1.00 specials at Goodwill.

Azriel, Molly's cat, jumped down from the one windowsill in the room and ran over to her, rubbing against her leg and purring loudly. Molly reached down and scooped the cat up, snuggling her face into her soft brown fur. She knew she shouldn't have a cat, couldn't afford it, but she also knew she would go crazy if Azriel wasn't around. Living in a one room apartment was hard enough, and not having family around made it even harder.

Sitting down at the rickety table by the window, Molly stared out of the rain-washed panes. It had started raining in the middle of the night, and showed no signs of stopping. The rain and oil mixed together on the asphalt, making beautiful rainbows that clashed with the grime.

Azriel jumped onto Molly's lap, carrying a limp toy mouse in her mouth. Molly threw it across the room, knowing she had started something that was going to be hard to stop. Azriel was a hard cat to distract once she started something.

As Molly threw the mouse behind a wilting plant, there came a knock at the door. Her eyes widened and head snapped up at the sound. Who would be coming to see her? She'd paid her rent last week, and besides the old lady in the park who shared her bread to throw to the birds, she didn't have any friends. She peaked out the window and saw a vaguely familiar woman standing on the step. She opened the door a little and peeked her head out.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her fingernails scratching into the soft wooden door.

The woman smiled at Molly. “Hi, I'm Natalie. I live just down the street.” She pointed in the direction of a small apartment complex a half a block away. “I just came home from my mom's house, and we canned a bunch of peaches, and I wondered if you'd like a couple of jars?” Natalie held up to mason jars filled with slimy golden peaches, each adorned with a red bow. “Do you like peaches?”

Molly looked from Natalie to the jars and back. She felt tears collecting behind her eyes and hurriedly pressed her hands over them.

“I'm sorry, have I upset you?”

Molly lowered her hands and looked at Natalie, whose expression had changed from happy to worried. “Do you hate peaches?” Natalie asked.

Molly laughed, and the tears began to fall down her cheeks. She laughed and cried until her stomach hurt and her eyes stung. Natalie was looking at her strangely, so she quickly explained. “I love peaches. You don't know how much I need these peaches right now. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She took the jars from Natalie, put them on the table, and gave her a tentative hug. Natalie hugged her back.

“I was driving home, and I saw you running in the rain, and I felt like you needed some sunshine on this gloomy day. Peaches always remind me of sunshine.”

“Thank you,” Molly said, putting each hand on a mason jar, feeling the warmth from her sunshine peaches, warmer than the fairest summer day.

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