The Apricot Tree: Nobody Is Perfect

By David Taylor

Charley Miller refuses to take his family to church because he says everyone who goes to church is a hypocrite. The reoccurring topics of hypocrisy and judging others become a puzzling issue to Tina and her brother Lucas. Tina begins to ask questions. Charley eventually learns he has been conveying a confusing message to his family, especially to his young son Lucas.

Young Tina and Gwynn are neighbors and inseparable best friends. The girls have to deal with their younger brothers, the classroom bully, and as time progresses, the inevitability of becoming young adults.

The apricot tree is an excellent place for the girls to read and play. It is also the focal point of Lucass action that forces Charley into a long overdue discussion with his family.

Charley suspects a fellow employee at the lumber mill is dealing drugs. His concern about safety at the mill sets off an unexpected chain of events.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984523747

David Taylor

David Taylor, Associate Professor in Materials Engineering at Trinity College Dublin, has thirty years' experience in the field of material failure. His activities include fundamental research in the fields of fracture mechanics and biomechanics, and consultancy work on industrial design and forensic failure analysis.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by David Taylor.

Photo by: Sandy Hilderbrand

Library of Congress Control Number:      2018905186

ISBN:                  Hardcover                      978-1-9845-2376-1

                           Softcover                        978-1-9845-2375-4

                           eBook                             978-1-9845-2374-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/14/2018

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Contents

Acknowledgements

This Old House

Sunday Chaos

Neighbors

Tripper Gorman

A Typical Day

Big Jimmy Hinkle

The Apricot Tree

Picking Time

Camping with Ghosts

The Taste of Real Worms

Tina Questions Her Dad

The Royals

Tina’s First Bible

The Soccer Coach

Payback

Charley’s Inquiry

A Grueling Morning

The Drug House

Jimmy’s Presence

Sleds and Barbed Wire

Charley’s Indifference

Christmas Vacation

Mutual Respect

Jimmy’s Discovery

Last Week of School

Charley Talks to the Police

Drugs on Texas Street

Out in the Open

Ellen Confronts Charley

Summer Bible School

Gwynn’s Unique Autograph

The Day of Reckoning

Family Crescendo

Second Best Friends

Inseparable Goodbye

Henry’s Lesson

Tina’s Hero

Epilogue

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the following people for their editing, patience, and advice:

Pastor Rod and Kathy Brown-Editing and advice.

Glen Hughes-For giving me a personal tour of Zosel Lumber Mill.

Dr. Doug Wilson, M.D.-Technical medical advice.

Dr. Steve Lamb, M.D.-Technical medical advice.

Oroville Police Dept.-Advice dealing with drugs.

Trent Taylor-Our son, for his editing and advice.

Evie, my wife, for her editing and patience

This Old House

John Snyder and his son, Brian, woke earlier than usual on Sunday morning. In Brian’s way of thinking, more sleep would have been a waste of precious time. He and his dad descended the stairway leading down to the main floor of the house. They walked through the kitchen quickly exiting the back door. They were on a mission.

Brian looked up at his dad and whispered, I don’t think we woke anybody, Dad.

John replied, I don’t think so. That’s good news.

John lifted the metal door covering the outside steps to the basement. Carefully, he leaned it against the house. He cautiously descended the steep, worn-out wooden steps leading down into semidarkness. Brian stayed close behind. After clearing away cobwebs and spiders, John slowly pushed on the small basement door just enough so he could see through the opening. He squinted, trying to peer inside. He couldn’t see much except dark silhouettes and indiscernible shadows that were cast onto the floor and walls by the small amount of light managing to wriggle its way through the tiny basement window.

Reaching through the opening, John flipped a switch. The one and only but very dim light bulb came to life. He had been considering replacing the bulb with more wattage, but after living in the house for five years, he figured why hurry.

Brian was trying to look across the dark floor with his little flashlight. He was disappointed that it didn’t offer as much light as he was hoping for. John continued to push the door open just enough so the two of them could enter quickly. He ducked to keep from hitting his forehead on the top of the short frame. Without hesitating, they squeezed through the opening, making sure the door was firmly closed behind them. Armed with flashlights, they slowly crept across the basement floor, carefully inspecting under shelves, behind boxes, and around the furnace.

The furnace was old, but it still managed to push hot water to the radiators in each room of the house. The basement wasn’t used except to store items that were rarely needed. Brian thought the basement would make a great haunted house on Halloween, but he was having a difficult time getting that idea approved by his mother.

Do you see anything, Dad? Brian didn’t bother to look up. He continued to examine what he thought might be good hiding places.

I don’t see him yet. He has to be in here somewhere. Your mom was sure she saw it come in here yesterday when she was working in the backyard. John straightened up to check out potential spots above the floor. Pointing his flashlight toward the shelf just beneath the partially open window, he exclaimed, There he is, Brian! On the shelf!

Grab him, Dad! We’ll put him in a cage.

Maybe you should grab him, Brian.

I can’t reach the shelf.

Okay, I’ll get him. John kept his flashlight shining on his victim, reached out, and picked one of the largest bull snakes he had ever captured. Upon closer inspection, he looked at Brian and declared, This one could measure at least three feet, Brian.

It wasn’t uncommon to collect one or two snakeskins, or skeletons, when giving the basement its annual cleaning. Sara, John’s wife, left the cleaning to him.

Brian; his sister, Gwynn; and their mother all referred to the basement as the dungeon. The dungeon contained a sixty-watt light bulb, very old and very empty shelves, a few storage boxes, the furnace, dampness, and of course, snakes. Snakes would figure out a way to get inside even when a window was not left cracked open. But for some reason, they couldn’t find their way back out, or maybe it was because they didn’t want to leave the comfort of the basement.

Brian couldn’t wait to handle the snake. Dad, can I take him in the house to show Gwynn and Mom?

John was curiously watching the harmless snake wind itself around his arm. If you do that, Brian, keep in mind that you could be wearing this snake for a necklace. You know that your mom and sister don’t approve of snakes, especially in the house.

Okay, I’ll just take him outside and turn him loose. Maybe he’ll go catch a mouse. It was questionable if Brian would actually let the snake go or invent a new way to torture his sister.

His dad replied, All right. But hurry because we need to get ready to go!

Gwynn came out of the upstairs bathroom just as Brian walked by. She asked, Did you and Dad catch the snake and turn him loose?

Brian might have just turned six, but he was smart enough to not let an opportunity slip past him. He didn’t slow down or look at Gwynn and uttered casually, Yes, we did. I put him in your underwear drawer. He sped up and rapidly descended the stairway, skipping two or three on his way to the bottom.

Gwynn was hot on his trail. Brian! You better not have! Mom! Sara was standing in the kitchen, working at the counter. Both kids came to a sliding stop behind her. Gwynn stood indignantly with both hands on her hips and exclaimed in a quick, loud voice, Brian said he put that snake in my underwear drawer!

Sara turned around from the counter and leaned against it with her arms folded. She looked straight at Brian and asked calmly and coolly, Brian, what did you do with the snake?

Brian replied sheepishly, I put him in the bushes in the backyard so he might catch a mouse.

You don’t need to be a pest and tormentor. You know it upsets your sister. Now both of you get ready for church.

Upon entering her bedroom, Gwynn cautiously opened her delicate things drawer. She peeked inside just to make sure nothing was living in there.

The Snyder family resided in a two-story white house built in the early 1900s. The original hardwood floors still shone in most of the rooms. Sara liked a tidy house when possible. The floors were no exception to her keep-it-clean rule. The stairway leading to the upper floor was adorned with a very elegant dark wood handrail. A graceful curve near the top accommodated the turn of the last few steps to the second floor. Fifteen steps in all. Gwynn had counted them many times.

Most of the rooms in the house were small. Several still had the original woodburning fireplace. The first winter the Snyders lived in the house, they discovered that all the fireplaces sucked most of the heat up the chimney. John had sealed off the front of all the fireplaces except the one in the family room. Old steam radiators heated by the furnace in the basement supplied most of the warmth during the winter. Space heaters were required sometimes on very cold days. But in this old house, a usable plug-in might be hard to find.

The kitchen and dining area were large in proportion to the other rooms. Brian agreed that the kitchen should be large because eating was an important activity.

Sunday Chaos

Sunday mornings were usually quiet in the modest neighborhood of well-built old homes where the Snyders lived. But quiet and relaxing was not part of the Sunday morning routine at 203 Oak Street.

John walked over to the shiny wooden staircase and yelled up the stairs, Hurry up, we’re going to be late! Gwynn, get a move on up there and quit pestering your brother! And, Brian, leave your sister alone! John Snyder’s voice boomed loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly. They knew it was time to pay attention. He was a big man, and his voice matched his size.

Gwynn had a normal kid voice most of the time, but when she was excited, her voice turned into a high-pitch siren that tended to drill through a person’s ear and right on out the other side. She was a thinly built redhead who liked to have her hair in two braids, but that wasn’t going to happen this morning. Ponytails sometimes trumped braided pigtails when time was short. Some of her friends were positive her hair appeared to turn a brighter red when she was really upset.

Gwynn yelled from the upstairs bathroom to her mother, Mom, have you seen my new hair clips? My hair is doing funny things all over the place! I have grumpy hair this morning! She was trying to find space for herself in the small bathroom because Brian kept migrating back and forth between there and his bedroom. Gwynn ran down the short hallway to the top of the steps and yelled in her distinctive shrill voice, Dad, make Brian get out of the bathroom! He’s standing tiptoe on the stool in front of the mirror, making stupid faces! John had heard that comment more times than he could count. He didn’t answer, hoping the problem would go away. Gwynn waited a few seconds for a reply and then whirled around and returned to the bathroom with a somewhat disgusted look on her face.

John and Sara were downstairs, almost ready to leave the house. Their bedroom was upstairs, just down the hall from Gwynn and Brian’s bedrooms. Fortunately, they had their own bathroom. Gwynn and Brian were running behind schedule because they were battling for last-minute bathroom space.

As long as the traffic rules were followed, the time spent upstairs was normally without a major incident. The past week had only one speed bump. Brian told Gwynn he had used her toothbrush because he wanted to see if the bristles of a pink toothbrush felt the same as his green one. He said it didn’t taste pink. Gwynn explained that color doesn’t have taste and that she rinsed her toothbrush in the toilet bowl after each use. Brian was shocked. His eyes were wide in disbelief. Gwynn should be smarter than to do such a thing. From that time forward, he always put his toothbrush on a separate shelf in the cabinet above the sink so it wouldn’t touch his sister’s toothbrush. Brian never again attempted to brush his teeth with Gwynn’s toothbrush.

Sara was standing in front of the downstairs hallway mirror, calmly finishing the last touches to her hair. The adequately sized oak wood framed mirror was hanging on the wall that partitioned off the small family room from the hallway. Behind her was the staircase.

Sara was short, but it wasn’t a good idea to make any kind of comment that might refer to her height. At best, the top of her head came even with her husband’s shirt pockets. Her voice was usually quiet. She didn’t let much bother her, and she liked to take life one day at a time. Sara stated in her normal, quiet voice while examining her hair, Honestly, John, I wish those two could just get ready to go places without quarreling about every little thing. She continued, mocking Gwyn’s and Brian’s voices. He’s looking at me. She touched me. Brian says I have a boyfriend. She’s always looking in my room. Sara continued in her normal voice. Maybe we should try getting up earlier so we can get this family out of the house on time. She knew that was impossible because they had been trying to be early to church for years.

Gwynn came bounding down the stairs. Brian was close behind, trying to grab a ponytail that was perfectly done for a nine-year-old. Mr. and Mrs. Snyder were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready to go out the front door. Sara held out an arm. Both kids came to a screeching halt. Sara quickly examined each one to see if they were acceptable to exit the house. Gwynn passed a five-second inspection. Your hair doesn’t look very grumpy, Gwynn. Sara received a smirky look from her daughter.

Sara had to apply a wet finger to Brian’s face to remove the last of the apricot jam that he had liberally spread on the top and sides of his breakfast toast. His hair, which was going in all directions, would have to be combed later because it was time for a quick dash to the car.

Brian had to be reminded that he needed to be in the car and not running around, looking for anything that might run or fly. John and Sara quickly helped Gwynn and Brian into the back seat. They made sure all fingers, toes, and clothes were inside before closing the doors.

While backing out of the driveway, John noticed Charley Miller, their neighbor, working in his front yard. They exchanged smiles and waves before the Snyder family began driving quickly down Oak Street.

Neighbors

Wide and relatively flat sidewalks made Oak Street the perfect spot for energetic people who were out for a morning stroll or run. The street was beautifully lined with large oak trees full of tiny leaves eager to grow. It wouldn’t be long until the leaves would offer shade to the sidewalk, and there would be an abundance of multicolored flowering plants filling well-kept yards. Green grass of weed-free lawns stretched all the way out to the sidewalk.

Ellen Miller and her daughter, Tina, each carrying a load of gardening tools, walked from the garage toward the front yard to help Charley with the spring cleanup. The entire family liked to be outside. The neighborhood agreed that the Millers had one of the nicest looking yards on all of Oak Street. Colorful flowers, shrubs, and deep green grass adorned their yard throughout the summer months.

Lucas, Tina’s five-year-old brother, wasn’t much help with the fine art of yard work, but he was helpful in carrying some of the tools that didn’t present much danger in transportation. His idea of working in the yard was to use his toys and shovels to rearrange the dirt in areas that were designated by his mother to be safe zones for digging. She had made it clear that he was not to dig up any of her grass or flowers. The summer before, Lucas had pulled up some of her biggest flowers to use the stems for logs on his truck. Occasionally, he would stack a load of weeds in the back of his dump truck pretending he was hauling a big brush pile.

Lucas had a mind of his own and liked to do what seemed to be important tasks for himself. After he learned how to button his own shirts and zip up his coat, no one was allowed to help him because he felt he was his own man. Tina liked to give him a bad time if he didn’t get his shirt buttons in the correct holes. If the buttons aren’t in the right holes and your shirt is lopsided, it will make you walk in circles.

Really! Lucas was listening to his sister’s wisdom.

Ya, Lucas, and the same thing will happen if you put your shoes on the wrong feet! Tina looked at Lucas with the most serious face she could muster. He began concentrating on accuracy, knowing the consequences of an improperly buttoned shirt or putting his left shoe on his right foot.

Charley and Ellen had moved next door to the Snyders just before Tina started kindergarten. Tina and Gwynn were the same age and quickly became best buddies. Whoever messed with one of them got double payback. Tina was slightly bigger than Gwynn. She had long shiny black hair and brown eyes. Her matter-of-fact voice was hard to ignore.

Ellen Miller had established a reputation of standing up for what she thought was right. If anybody in town had a cause to fight for, they wanted her on their side. She wasn’t afraid to say what was on her mind when she was in front of a group of people even if it was the school board or the city council.

Her present project was trying to establish a park in the neighborhood. She knew it would be an uphill battle with the city council because a special interest group had tried it years ago and the idea eventually died. Ellen had made a sketch of what the park might look like. She pinned it to the family bulletin board in the hallway at the bottom of the staircase as a constant reminder of what was at stake. Lucas couldn’t wait for the park to be completed. His mother had to explain that it would be a long process.

Ellen knelt beside her husband to help him pull pesky weeds and remove decayed leaves from the flower bed. The bed was nestled against a small hedge that followed the Snyders’ driveway out to the sidewalk.

Continuing to pull weeds and gather leaves without glancing at Ellen, Charley declared