A Perfect Slice of Wenatchee
Janelle Meraz Hooper
The sky overhead was ultramarine blue and held in place by a sparkling brooch
of blazing sun. Below, a canopy of apple leaves was so thick and lush that the
apples hanging profusely underneath looked as if only the denseness of the
leaves kept them from being able to float up into the hot, dry air.
Above the green canopy, magpies owned the airspace, and swooped from
treetop to treetop. Skunk birds, the orchardists called the black and white
feathered birds, although they were much too beautiful to have such an offensive
Beneath the treetops, the air was cool and perfumed with the smell of
apples. A little barefooted boy dressed in overalls struggled to climb up into the
branches of a small tree and lazily dreamed of the day he’d be able to climb the
biggest tree in the orchard.
A yellow Labrador named Agatha stretched out in the cool grass beneath his
owner. He sleepily listened as the little boy softly sang a happy song that bubbled
onto his lips from somewhere deep inside, a song never heard before:
“Apple, apple stay with me…apple, apple, play with me…forever…”
It was almost harvest time. Soon, the pickers would come with their ladders
and picking bags and the quiet would be lost until the first snow softly fell on
the carefully pruned branches of the orchard’s trees. But for now, it was a perfect
slice of Wenatchee, witnessed only by a boy, his dog, and his father who
gazed at the two from the window in a nearby packing shed.
A short from my short story book Free Pecan Pie and Other Chick Stories. Suitable for all ages. Paperback & Kindle. Amazon and other Internet bookstores.