The Hanging Orchard
Started on September 15, 2007
Finished October 1, 2007
"We had a love like Johnny and June,
I felt alive; I would have died for you,
The gallows on the hill cast a shadow for two,
As me and my love hang alone at high noon,
So this is me, getting over you, getting over me"
- Kids in the Way
It was raining... again.
Not unusual for Washington State. After all, it had the most precipitation per year, than almost any other state in the U.S. So, when the weather man said that it would be raining for the next three to four days, he wasn't joking. In fact, it was the fifth day of non-stop rain, which meant that the already soggy ground would be even worse when Eric went out to pick apples in his grandmother's orchard.
It was a tradition in the Hayfield family. Every fall the youngest male of the Hayfield clan would be forced to go out in the dead of night and pick a basketful of apples from what the locals of Orentown called 'The Hanging Tree', which in fact stood in 'The Hanging Orchard', which just happened to be his Grandmother Ireen's orchard.
Eric, who just turned the ripe age of 13 -- the first year of adulthood in the Hayfield Clan -- was the youngest male. That meant that he would have to go out and pick apples at the twelfth bong of his grandmother's grandfather clock.
Eric heard somebody clear their throat, just over his left shoulder. "Are you ready for tonight little cuz?" His oldest cousin Steve asked,
"Yeah, I suppose. As ready as I'm going to be." Eric replied, turning to face his giant of a cousin.
Steve was a defense line man for his school football team, which meant that he had the girth of a bear, and the shoulder width of a mighty warrior. His bulk didn't look like fat on his tall, broad frame. In fact he was just as skinny as Eric was; only he stood about another 3 1/2 feet taller than he was.
"Your not afraid of going out there by yourself are you?" Another voice asked. This time, it was his other cousin, Steve's brother that had asked the question.
"Hell no. There's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a stupid story that great-great-great-grandpa Orvil came up with to scare the crap out of the townspeople, to keep them from getting to his apples." Eric explained. "You should know that."
"Whatever dude. I think you’re afraid of telling us you’re afraid. I know I was, when I was your age." Brian replied coolly.
"Yeah, we know that's a lie. You clung to mom's leg the whole entire night, begging and crying your eyes out to her because you didn't want to go." Steve said. "Remember, I was there."
"Shut up. This isn't a retard related conversation. If we wanted to have you answer a question, we would have asked the retard for an answer. I don't remember asking you, do you Eric?" Brian replied, taking his older brothers punch to the shoulder with a grimace.
"Well actually, he did start this conversation." Eric replied, stepping back from a punch that didn't come.
"Yeah, so go pick your nose." Steve replied, offering a high-five to his younger cousin.
Eric started laughing, until his face was a beat red. He was crouched over, hands on his knees and tears streaming from his engorged eyes.
"Hey man, are you okay? It wasn't that funny man." Brian replied, putting his hand on Eric's exposed back.
"Yeah... I'm fine. I don't know what's so funny about you picking your nose... well, except for the fact your 16. Nose picker!" Eric exclaimed.
"Alright 'Mr. I'm-Not-Afraid-of-Anything', I got a surprise for you. Go get your coat and hat from the house and grab one of Grandma's flashlights. Meet us outside of the barn in five minutes." Brian explained, Eric and Steve following him out into the cold autumn rain.
"Alright, I'll be right back." Eric said, running through the rain and mud until he finally reached his Grandmother's house.
Eric returned a little less than five minutes later, the beam from his flashlight dancing against the mud. He wore his hoodie with a pancho over it, and a black hat that had something written on it. Brian and Steve weren't sure what it said, but knowing their younger cousin, it was probably a smart ass comment.
"Alright, let's go. I got some rope from the barn in case we need it, two extra flashlights and one of Grandma's old Orchard baskets." Brian explained taking the spool of rope from his brothers large shoulders and showing Eric. He flashed the beam from his light into his younger cousin's eyes.
Steve watched the pupils of Eric's eyes dialate, before he yanked the flashlight from his brothers grasp.
"I'll take that, you hold onto the rope." Steve replied, following his younger brother yet again; Eric was close behind.
They had been walking for a few minutes, before Steve spoke up. "You know were we are going?"
"Not really, but I have an idea you guys are taking me to The Hanging Orchard." Eric replied, as he looked over to his cousin.
"That's right. We're gunna show you a secret. You have to promise not to tell anyone we did this for you though, deal?" Brian replied, offering his hand out to his cousin. Eric shook his older cousin's hand and kept walking.
A few minutes later, after navigating their way through the labrynth of trees, they finally stopped in front of what had been named 'The Hanging Tree', over a hundred and fifty years ago. It was old -- older than any tree Eric had seen before -- it's branchs fanned out almost twenty feet from the trunk.
Steve jumped up and grabbed one of the lower hanging branches. Lifting his heavy bulk up with his arms, he swung forward and pulled his feet all the way up. He swung his left leg over the branch, trying to balance his bulk on the branch.
The Hanging Tree had to of been sturdy if it could hold his large cousin's full weight.
"Alright Steve, start throwing them down. Eric and I will catch 'em." Brian instructed, pushing Eric over a few feet so that they were spread far enough apart, so they could catch any stray apples that Steve might toss down to them.
He began to pick, chucking them down at intervals. Brian caught the majority of them, while Eric only caught enough to make a handful. They threw them in the basket, and by the time they had it filled full enough to count for later that night, it was already dark.
Just a little over four more hours and he'd be back out there again, only this time to carry the basket back... by himself.
Steve jumped from the branch, landed in a neat crouch and rolled back onto his feet. He might have been a big person, but he was as liquid as any glass of water.
The three cousins; closer friends than blood relatives, left the basket full of apples in front of the ancient gnarled tree trunk, and walked back to their Grandma's house.
Just under four hours after Brian, Steve and Eric had left the orchard, Eric headed back out by himself. This time, he took what Brian had decided to take before: a loop of rope and a rusty old flashlight that belonged to his Grandmother.
He walked through the mud and the cold autumn rain, wistleing to himself. If anything to keep himself preoccupied with the thoughts that loomed within his brain. He hated the orchard -- something he wasn't willing to admit hours before, but now that he was by himself, he felt safe in knowing that he was only admitting it to himself. But what was worse than walking through the orchard by himself, was walking in the orchard by himself, in the dark. Goosebumps errupted all over his skin, making him shake off a cold chill, or three.
After roaming through the labrynth of trees -- which he did his best with to remember -- he found the old gnarled Hanging Tree. It was then, that he noticed something he hadn't before... the tree stood in the middle of the orchard, by itself. Just sitting there growing old and lonely, while all the other trees sat atleast ten feet apart from each other, the Hanging Tree stood apart from all the other trees a good eighty feet. At that exact moment, he felt the trees pain, if that was possible. Emotions ran through him, stuff that he had never felt before -- things that only a grown up should feel.
Eric some how felt connected to the tree. As he looked over it, he thought he saw what could only be described as a face. I knub of bark for the nose, two large rotten holes in the trunk for eyes, and a large gash that seemed to be new just under the nose. It looked to be oozing something green, thick and smelly that reminded him of his Grandmother's cabbage and bacon.
He pinched his nose, and walked over to were the basket of apples sat. What was supposed to be a cornicopia of apples, was nothing but a measly pile of cores and chunks of apple covered in something thick, slimy and green.
Eric picked up a slime covered core from the basket and looked up at the trees mouth. The slime was the same on both things...
What the hell would a tree eat it's own fruit for? Eric thought to himself.
A common person, one who didn't believe in paranormal beings, would automatically think that someone had pulled a prank on them. That is, if they were in Eric's shoes, but Eric, who did believe in the things that went bump in the night didn't think it at all strange... well, except for the idea of a tree eating it's own fruit.
Shaking the whacky thoughts from his mind, he dumped the basket of apple cores into the grass, and swung the rope up into a low branch, tieing a knot so that he could climb it wihout getting hurt. He then positioned the basket just under the branch. Taking his hoodie off, he threw it in the bottom of the basket -- so the apples would not bruise when they fell -- and took a hold of the rope and climbed it, starting with one hand in front of the other.
Once he was able to push himself up on the branch, he swung his legs over it, just like Steve had done earlier that night, and started picking apples.
Eric who kept a close eye on the basket of apples, looked down every few minutes to make sure that nothing had happened to them. When the basket was just about halfway filled, and he couldn't reach any more apples without standing on the tree branch, he carefully stood up, balancing his rather large feet on the small branch. He slipped a few times, but quickly grabbed ahold of a branch, and pulled himself back up, balancing himself once more.
Then, when his basket was almost filled to the brim with apples, he lost his balance and tumbled down onto the grass below him. Anger and sadness overwhelmed him; tears and short breathes issuing from him. He never got up, instead he sat were he had fallen, crying into the night.
Eric Hayfield -- the boy who was to prove his man hood to his family -- never did. In fact, the Hayfield clan never saw the boy come in later that night. And after hours of worrying, Brian and Steve, as well as Eric's father and Uncle set out to look for the boy. What they found was something far worse than the slime covered, crooked face that sat marred into the gnarled wood of the Hanging Tree's trunk.
On the lowest branch of the tree, hung Eric Hayfield. His basket of apples sat just a few feet under his feet... filled to the brim with slime covered apples.
