Bit of a backstory before the book. This was originally intended for wide release but I got cold feet. It was then going to be part of a children's book collection but the other authors expressed apprehension. I don't blame them. This is a very strange story, however, not every story is clean; some, like life, are messy and open to interpretation.
All the best,
AJ Cosmo
Fruit Boy
by A.J. Cosmo
One morning, Fred noticed a strange lump on his neck.
"Don't pick at it," said Mom, but he didn't listen.
A popular kid would have tried to cover the lump up, but not Fred, he wanted the other kids to see him.
Except they never did.
"Eww, gross," said Sarah. "It looks like a strawberry is coming out of your neck!"
Fred rubbed his neck and grinned. "Pretty cool, right?"
"No," Sarah said, "It's the grossest thing ever."
Fred lost his smile.
"Oh," he said, and he covered the lump with his hand.
The next morning, Fred saw the strangest thing: a strawberry had grown out of his neck.
"Get that strawberry off of your neck!" said Mom. "You shouldn't waste food like that."
"I can't get it out, Mom. It's not ready yet," said Fred.
That day at school, Fred hid his neck from everyone he passed by. No one cared, for it was just Fred, and who cared about Fred?
"Let me see," said Sarah as she cornered Fred in the hall.
"See what?" asked Fred as he held his hand over the lump.
"It got bigger, didn't it? I bet its all-gooey and gross now, right? Yuck!"
Sarah grabbed Fred's hand and tried to pull it down, but he fought back.
She easily overpowered him.
"Oh my gosh," said Sarah at the sight of the fully formed strawberry, "Did you glue that?"
"No!" Shouted Fred as he pulled away and ran for class.
Sarah smiled.
Fred took his usual desk.
As the rest of the class settled, Sarah pushed the kid behind Fred out of his seat.
"What's the deal?" asked Tim.
"Teacher's orders," Sarah replied.
Tim knew better than to mess with Sarah and he took her seat at the back of the class.
As the day went on, Sarah poked and picked at the back of Fred's neck. Until...
"Ow!" shouted Fred.
Sarah sat back in her chair.
"Is something the matter, Fred?" asked Miss Bee.
"Miss Bee, may I move?" asked Fred.
"What for?"
Fred looked back at Sarah who looked scarier than usual.
"Never mind," said Fred.
"What is that in your mouth, Miss Hammerwroth?" asked Miss Bee.
"Nothing," said Sarah with a mouth full of fruit.
She swallowed.
Fred passed out.
Everyone laughed at poor Fred.
Fred woke up in the nurse's office.
"How are you feeling?" asked the kindly male nurse.
"Fine," said Fred.
"I called your mother. Everything seems normal, but I'd like you to see your doctor."
Fred looked down at the ground.
"Something else wrong?" asked the nurse.
"Is it normal for things to grow out of boys?" asked Fred.
"How old are you now?" asked the nurse.
"Twelve," said Fred.
"Well, around your age, or in a few years, things are going to start to change. You'll notice people you never noticed before, like girls, maybe, and you will grow so fast that you might not even recognize yourself."
"And if strawberries grow out of my neck?" asked Fred.
"What do you mean?" asked the nurse.
"It's just a bug bite," claimed the doctor.
"It was a strawberry, I swear," Fred said.
"Is he under a lot of stress?" asked the doctor to Fred's mom.
She nodded but didn’t want to say anything.
"Try not to take things so seriously," said Fred's mother as she buckled herself in the van. "You are way too serious for a ten year old," she added.
"Okay Mom," said Fred, as he rested his head against the window.
The next morning, a leaf grew out of Fred's neck.
Fred went into the attic and found some of his Father's clothes. A turtleneck would do just fine, though it was a bit big, and he did feel just a bit uncomfortable putting it on.
"That shirt is too big on you, sweetie, where did you get it?" asked Mom.
"Grandma gave it to me last Christmas," said Fred.
"Oh, I'll have to shrink it then. Leave it on the washer, I'll take care of it after work."
Kids were starting to notice Fred now. Not for his stylish turtleneck that was three times too big, or for the way he could do advanced math without ever needing a calculator. No, they knew him as the boy who fainted.
The weirdo.
The leader of a pack of boys fanned his face as Fred passed by.
"I do say I feel a touch of the vapors," said the boy (whatever that meant).
Fred tried to ignore them as he walked by.
"There you are," said Sarah as she trapped Fred against the wall, "I've been looking all. Over the place for you."
"I didn't do my homework either, Sarah," Fred said.
"Is there more?" Sarah asked. "Let me see." Sarah grabbed his collar and pulled it open.
The new leaf peaked out.
"Looks like you’re growing something Fred. Can I get first dibs?" Sarah said.
"You're disgusting!" shouted Fred as he escaped her grasp.
"Let me know when it comes in," shouted Sarah.
Grapes.
The leaf was the start of a bunch of grapes.
Fred tried to pull the stem from his neck but it hurt too much, so he went to the garage and to his fathers clothes and found the largest coat he could find.
It was eighty degrees outside.
"You're going to burn up out there," said Mom.
"I'm fine," said Fred, and he took the bus to school.
"Remove that coat, son," said Mr. Bird, the gym teacher.
"Can I just watch today?" asked Fred.
"I'm not going to ask you again," said Mr. bird.
Fred got up and made a run for the locker room. Mr. Bird ran after him.
Sarah watched.
"Boy, what is wrong with you?" asked Mr. Bird.
"Nothing," said Fred.
"Then why in the world are you wearing a jacket in June?"
"There's a cold snap coming," said Fred.
Mr. Bird looked at Fred.
"Take it off," demanded Mr. bird.
Fred didn't.
"You're trying my patience, son," said Mr. Bird.
Sarah peeked her head around the corner.
Fred took off the jacket. A bunch of green grapes hung from his neck.
"What in the world have you done to yourself, boy?" asked Mr. Bird.
"Nurse Brier said that boys go through changes," Fred stuttered.
"They don't go gluing fruit to themselves!" cried Mr. Bird.
"I didn't do anything!" shouted Fred.
"You on something?" demanded Mr. Bird.
"No," said Fred.
"You messing with me?"
"No."
"This some sort of prank?"
"No!"
Mr. Bird looked around, pulled out a bit of his moustache, and shook his finger at Fred.
"You, you wait here. I'm going to go get the principal. We need to talk."
Mr. Bird left and Sarah swept in.
"Coach! There's a girl in the boys locker room!" Shouted Fred, but no one came to help.
"I adore grapes," said Sarah.
"Stay away from me," Fred said.
"That strawberry was the best fruit I've ever tasted."
"You're disgusting," Fred said.
"You haven't tried one yet, have you?" Sarah asked.
"Why in the world would I want to?" Fred said.
"Give me them," Sarah said.
"No," Fred said.
Sarah slammed him against the locker and put her face next to his neck.
"I said no!" Fred yelled.
No one heard (or cared).
Sarah held Fred down and yanked the bunch right off of him.
"Ow!" Fred screamed.
Sarah ran out of the locker room.
Fred almost cried. What had Sarah done to him? It felt strange. He hated her so much.
Right?
Wait.
Where did she go with the grapes?
Fred ran after her.
When he got upstairs, his mouth hit the court.
Sarah had passed out a grape to each of his classmates.
"Stop!" Fred yelled- too late.
They all loved the taste of the grapes.
Fred fainted.
He woke up in the principal's office.
"You okay, son?" asked Principal Lavender.
"I'm fine," said Fred.
"Can you tell me why you've been attaching fruit to yourself?" asked Principal Lavender.
"I'm not attaching anything to me," said Fred.
"Alright, I hear you," said Mr. lavender. "You know I sometimes do strange things too, especially when things are bad at home."
"Everything is fine, Mr. Lavender," said Fred.
"Are the other kids bullying you?"
"Just one," said Fred.
"Who is he?"
"Her," said Fred.
"Who?"
Fred didn't answer.
Mr. Lavender nodded. "Ah, I see," he said. "You're dismissed, just promise me you won't glue any more fruit to yourself, alright?"
Fred nodded.
"I won't," said Fred and he headed out the door.
The next morning, Fred noticed a brown and yellow lump forming on his neck.
He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't come.
"At least it's not a leaf," said Fred and he put a sweatband around his neck to cover it up.
"What's with the sweatband?" asked Mom.
"It's a new thing," Fred said,
"Glad to see you interested in something," said Mom. She looked at her son with love and smiled. "Would you still like me to shrink your father's sweater?"
Fred shook his head, skipped breakfast, and headed out the door.
"What's on the menu today?" asked Sarah.
"None of your business," Fred said as he tried to avoid her.
"Oh, it hasn't come in yet. Let me see, I want to guess."
"Get away from me!" Fred said and he pushed Sarah back.
Sarah smiled.
"Let's see how long you can hide it," Sarah said.
Everyone in class stared at Fred.
Miss Bee taught but even the best students didn't pay attention.
Fred looked around. How awful to be so popular.
"Hey," whispered Jacob who sat next to Fred (and had never spoken to him before).
Fred pretended to take notes.
"Hey!" Jacob huffed as he threw a spitball at Fred.
Fred looked over.
"What's on the menu today?" Jacob asked.
"Stop it," Fred said.
"Is something the matter, boys?" asked Miss Bee.
"No," answered Jacob.
"Jacob is bothering me," said Fred.
"Why are you bothering Fred?" asked Miss Bee.
"I was just hungry, Miss Bee," Jacob giggled.
"Then it can wait until lunchtime. I expect better from the both of you."
Lunch sucked.
Every kid that had eaten a grape waited for Fred as he sat down.
A few kids who had heard of the fruit joined too.
Fred scratched the spot under his sweatband. Whatever it was, it had made a tent.
Sarah slid up next to him.
"Looks like you have fans," she said.
"I can't believe you told them," said Fred.
"I wasn't going to at first, but they all liked the grapes so much they just kept asking and asking, who am I to keep a secret?"
"It's so nasty," Fred said. He turned to the crowd, "You're all gross!"
"What's under the sweatband?" asked Sarah.
"I don't know, and I don't want to know," said Fred.
"Let me see," Sarah said.
Fred struggled to stop her but Sarah got a peek.
"Ooooh, I love those!"
"What? What do you love?"
Sarah turned to the crowd.
"Bidding starts at one dollar. Do I hear one dollar?" She shouted.
One of the kids raised his hand.
"One dollar! Do I hear a dollar fifty? Six quarters, do I hear six lousy quarters?"
"Stop it!" Fred shouted.
Fred got up to run but Jacob pushed him in his seat.
"I see two, no two-fifty from the kid with freckles in the back. Three? Three! Do I hear four? Four! Four-fifty, four-seventy-five, five dollars? I hear five dollars!"
Fred had never seen the cafeteria so excited for food.
"Ten dollars!" shouted Lyle, the richest kid in school.
Lyle slapped the money on the table.
Sarah grinned.
"I hear ten dollars. Anyone? No? Going once, twice, sold to Lyle for ten dollars."
Lyle parted the kids as he approached Fred.
"A steal, eh Fred?" Sarah said.
"Sight unseen," said Lyle, "Better be worth it."
"Oh, Fred always satisfies," Sarah grinned.
Jacob pulled back the sweatband and let Lyle have a look.
"Is it ripe?" Lyle asked.
"You'll have it to you by end of the day," Sarah said.
"Then I'll pay on delivery," said Lyle.
"Sorry but we work on a pre-pay business model, you understand. We could of course go with the next highest bidder," Sarah said, mostly to the crowd.
Lyle frowned and put the money in her hand.
"It better be worth it Fred," Lyle said.
"Oh it will be," Sarah said as she pocketed the bill.
Fred tried to hide from the gaze of his class.
Everyone wanted to know what Lyle had bought.
Lyle savored the attention.
Final bell rang.
Sarah and Jacob sat in ambush.
"This way," Sarah said.
"Miss Bee!" Fred shouted. Sarah slammed her hand to the wall.
"Have a great day, Miss Bee!" Sarah shouted.
Miss Bee waved back as she gathered her things.
" We have a good thing going here," Sarah said. "This way."
Sarah and Jacob escorted Fred to the tree behind the bus stop. Lyle waited for them.
A group of kids gathered to relieve the mystery,
"Let's see," Lyle said.
Sarah yanked off the sweatband and revealed a ripe mango.
"It's perfect," remarked the kid with freckles.
"Pluck it," said Sarah.
Jacob held Fred down as Lyle pulled the mango from his neck.
Lyle hesitated as he stared at perfection.
That didn’t last long.
Lyle bit in and his face lit up.
"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," Lyle said as juice dripped down his chin.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Sarah said, "See Y'all at tomorrows auction."
Jacob let go of Fred.
The crowd dispersed.
Sarah remained
"Your cut," she said as she handed him a five-dollar bill.
"Why?" Fred asked.
"You have to pay your suppliers," Sarah said.
"No. Why are you doing this?" Fred asked.
Sarah looked at him.
"You want it or not?" she asked with the money held out.
Fred looked in her eyes.
He took the money.
"Mom," asked Fred as she got home from work, "Can we go see dad?"
Fred's mother put down a paper bag.
"Sure, sweetie. Just let me put away the groceries."
The cemetery always felt barren, even though it was full of graves.
"Did you want a minute alone?" asked Mom as they stood in front of the grave.
"Sure," Fred said.
Mom left and Fred stared at the stone.
"Hey dad, how have you been?" Fred said.
"I've got a weird problem and I don't really know who to talk to about it..."
"Mom says that you're with God now, so I was wondering if you could do me a favor..."
"Could you ask him to please stop doing whatever it is he's doing to me?"
Wind tossed a hanging basket of flowers.
Fred looked up at it.
"Thanks," Fred said.
He walked back and joined his mother in the van.
The next morning, two purple lumps appeared.
Apparently his father hadn't had a chance to speak to God yet.
Fred didn't bother covering up the new fruit.
"Did someone hit you?" mom asked.
Fred shook his head.
"Well it looks like I'm a bad mother, so could you put that sweat band back on?"
"Its out of style," Fred said.
"Hey," said Sarah as she caught up to Fred in the hall.
"Hey yourself," Fred said.
"No disguise. I like the challenge. I'll just put on a little charm," Sarah said.
Fred stopped.
"Sarah," he said.
"Yeah?" she said.
Fred looked into her eyes and really wanted to say something. In fact the words were right there, inches from his mouth, but he couldn't say them. He knew them, but he couldn't say them, so he said something else instead.
"I want a bigger cut," Fred said.
"Fair is fair," Sarah said.
"I'm the one growing it," Fred said.
"No one would have even tried it if it wasn't for me," Sarah said, "Good luck selling it."
"Maybe I should just give it away then!" Fred shouted.
"And waste it? You have something people want, so sell it to them!"
"I didn't want this!"
"No, but you enjoy it, don't you?"
Fred gulped and lowered his head.
"That's right, I know you, Fred. You want to be popular, that's cool. Everyone does. So. Why don't you let me make you popular?"
Fred dropped his shoulders.
"Fifty-fifty?" He said to her.
"Deal," Sarah said as she offered him a handshake.
Fred looked at her hand.
"Deal."
The kid with freckles paid twenty-two dollars a pair of plums.
He sold one of the plums for fifteen dollars, a shrewd move.
Jacob didn't have to hold Fred down and hardly a soul bothered him all day. They did look at him though, a lot, and Fred started to feel comfortable with it.
Sarah gave him ten dollars and a smile after school and Fred went home feeling better than he had in a long time.
The next day brought blueberries.
Sarah whipped the crowd into frenzy and some lucky soul spent Fifty dollars.
Cafeteria workers had taken notice.
Sarah, in her wisdom, paid every one of them off to look the other way.
After the fruit had been delivered, Fred stared at Sarah.
"What?" she asked.
It took a minute for him to respond.
"Can I have your number?" Fred asked.
Sarah smiled.
"I don't know can you?" she said.
"Mom," Fred said. "I'd like to go to a movie with my friend."
His mother smiled.
Fred paid for everything. That didn't bother him. He just loved seeing Sarah happy and couldn't think of anything better than being by her side.
The lights dimmed and the movie played.
Fred looked at Sarah during the trailers.
He glanced at her during the first act.
He pretended to yawn when it looked like the bad guys were winning.
And he brushed against her knees as he went to the restroom.
He looked in the bathroom mirror and said things he thought his Dad would say.
"Why else would she have come with you?"
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"What's wrong? You scared or something?"
Fred returned, bringing an extra bag of popcorn no one asked for.
Right when the bad guys had the good guys cornered and everything looked bleak, Fred put his arm around Sarah's shoulder.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He pulled his arm back.
She shook her head.
And pulled him closer.
Kiwi's came next.
So did an allergic reaction.
"We didn't know he had an allergy," Fred said to Principal Lavender.
"Right," said Sarah, "besides, shouldn't Terry have known that anyways?"
"What are you two doing selling fruit at lunch?" Principal Lavender asked.
"We're learning real world entrepreneurship skills," Sarah replied.
Principal Lavender looked at Fred.
"Care to be honest with me, Fred?" he said.
"It just started. We didn't mean any harm," Fred said.
"Why in the world would kids be bidding on fruit?" Principal Lavender asked.
"Perhaps they're protesting the school lunch program," Sarah sneered.
"That's enough out of you, young lady," Principal Lavender said.
"It was my fruit," Fred said.
Sarah stepped on his foot. He held back a yelp.
"We're not talking about the fruit you glued on you, are we?" Principal Lavender asked.
"Yes, sir," Fred said.
"It stops now," Principal Lavender said.
"Yes, sir," Fred repeated.
Sarah moved to bleachers in the baseball field after class.
No one would get to see what the fruit was until after the auction.
Less buildup, but by now everyone in the school knew the drill and everyone who had tasted Fred's fruit was hopelessly addicted to the taste.
When the dragon fruit came, despite no one understanding what it was, it fetched an unbelievable hundred dollars.
Fred had never seen so much money.
Sarah had, but she wouldn't talk about where.
Lyle had formed a small investment fund acquire new fruit. Together they had purchased the dragon fruit and headed off to split the slices among the six shareholders.
"Keep this up and you'll buy me my first car," Sarah said.
"What kind would you like?" Fred said.
Sarah smiled and went on her way.
That's when Amy moseyed in.
"Hey handsome," Amy said.
Fred didn't respond. No one had ever called him handsome before.
"That’s you, silly," Amy said as she pulled her hair over her ear.
"Hi," Fred said, suddenly aware that they were alone.
"Quiet a talent you have," Amy said. "Do you know why it happens?"
"No," Fred said, "It just does."
"What do they taste like?" Amy asked.
"I don’t know. I've never had any," Fred said.
"Really? So you’re not even curious?" Amy asked.
Fred shrugged.
"I hear it tastes like what it is, except better, concentrated perfection," Amy swooned.
Fred shifted. He looked around for help.
"I should get going," he said.
Amy smiled. Somehow she had gotten close and Fred could smell her chap stick.
"What do you suppose Sarah is doing with all that money?" Amy asked.
Fred found himself against the cross-beams.
"Why should I care?" Fred said, sweating.
"It's none of my business," Amy said, "I'd just hate to see you get hurt."
She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back.
Fred rubbed his cheek as she hopped away.
"Sarah?" Fred texted.
"Yeah?" Sarah texted back.
"Are you saving up for something?" Fred texted.
The message said "Read" but Sarah never responded.
The next day brought bananas.
"Maybe we could skip today's auction," Sarah suggested.
"What for?" Fred asked.
Sarah didn’t say anything.
The kids gathered under the bleachers and waited for Sarah to start.
She didn't.
Fred finally spoke up.
"Do I hear ten dollars?" Fred asked.
Lyle raised his hand.
"Twenty?" Fred asked.
The kid with freckles raised a hand.
"Thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty?" Fred said, glancing at Sarah.
Sarah raised her hand.
"Sixty," she said.
Fred paused.
"Alright, I hear sixty. Sixty five?" Fred said.
"Seventy five," Amy said.
Sarah scowled.
"Eighty," Sarah said.
"Eighty five," Amy grinned.
"Ninety," Lyle interrupted.
"Stay out of this," the girls said together. Lyle backed away.
"Ninety five," Sarah said.
"One hundred," Amy said.
"One twenty," Sarah said, she looked nervously at Fred.
"One fifty," Amy said.
"How?" Sarah asked.
"Birthday was two days ago," Amy said, "I can go all night."
"Stop the auction," Sarah said.
"What for?" Fred said.
"Please," Sarah said.
Fred looked at Amy.
"Two hundred," Amy said.
Fred looked back at Sarah. Her face said desperate.
"Fred," Sarah said.
Fred stared at Sarah for a long minute.
"Sold," Fred said.
Amy smiled.
Sarah pushed through the crowd and stormed off.
"Let her go," Amy said as she approached and the kids dispersed.
Fred presented the banana and waited for the painful pull.
"What's wrong?" Fred texted Sarah.
She didn't text back.
"You okay, sweetie?" asked Mom.
Fred nodded.
"You sure?" she asked.
Fred went to his room.
His mother came to the door.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked.
Fred thought.
"Mr. Hammerwroth," Fred said.
"What about him?" Mom asked.
"What does he do?" Fred said.
Fred slid his lunch tray along the rail. He bumped trays with Sarah.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she said.
"Something wrong with your phone?" Fred asked.
"No," she said, "I just got it."
"Oh," Fred said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sarah asked.
A soggy hamburger found it's way onto Fred's tray.
"It means oh, what do you think it means?" Fred said.
"You've been really weird lately, more than usual," Sarah said.
"What do you mean?" Fred said.
Sarah grabbed a handful of cold fries and threw them on her plate.
"Nothing," Sarah said.
"Maybe I'd be a little less weird if you told me what's wrong with you," Fred said.
"Nothing is wrong with me, Fred," Sarah spit.
"Where did you get the new phone?" Fred asked.
Sarah pulled out some money to pay the cashier.
"Is that your business, Fred?" Sarah said.
"Yeah, I thought we were partners. Fifty-fifty," Fred said.
Sarah stopped the line and got in his face.
"Business partners," Sarah said. "We have a deal and as long as that stupid fruit sells I'll be there to sell it off. But that's it. No texts. No movies. No nothing. Don’t talk to me at school, or after school, or anywhere else you might see me. Understand?"
Fred gulped.
Sarah left.
Fred looked at the cashier, tried to smile, and paid for his meal.
Cherries.
Of course.
The auction had a funeral tone.
They went low; forty dollars on the dot, to a lucky girl who had bided her time.
Lyle's investment group saw little value in cherries.
Agitated shareholders demanded meetings.
Sarah had lost her enthusiasm and with it, had lost her ability to command top dollar.
Not that Fred cared.
He just wanted the fruit to stop growing.
For God to answer his prayer.
And for everything to go back to some quiet normal.
"I want my money back," Tracy said.
"No refunds," Sarah said.
"Those cherries were sour and disgusting!" Tracy spit on the ground.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Sarah said as she huffed up. Fred stepped between them.
"Hold on, what do you mean?" Fred asked.
"The cherries were sour," said Tracy.
"We did everything just like we've always done," Fred said.
"Well something's wrong with you then," Tracy said as she spit on the ground. "I can't get this awful taste out of my mouth,"
"I bet you just don't like cherries," Sarah said.
"They're my favorite fruit!" Tracy said. "I bet you've been skimming the good stuff for yourself, Sarah."
"Why you little!" Sarah lunged at Tracy but Fred stopped her.
"Here, take your money back," Fred said as he handed his portion over.
"This is only half," Tracy said.
"Sarah, please," Fred said.
"She already ate them!" Sarah said.
"We'll make it up later," Fred said.
Sarah huffed and handed over the money.
Tracy left.
"I don't know what's wrong," Fred said.
"Just fix it," Sarah said.
The fruit got worse.
The lychee, a fruit that no one had even heard of, went for a paltry five dollars.
Kevin had bought them more out of sympathy than hunger.
Fred went to hand two-fifty to Sarah but she walked away.
Amy smiled.
"What's wrong with you?" Sarah demanded.
"I don't know!" Fred said.
"I thought I told you to fix it!"
"How?" Fred asked.
"I don't know! You're the weirdo that grows fruit out of your neck, you tell me!"
"You really think I'm a weirdo?" Fred said.
"I didn't mean it like that," Sarah said.
Fred shook his head.
"No more auctions," he said.
"Are you crazy?" Sarah asked.
Fred shook his head and went home.
"You're losing out on a lot of money!" She called back.
Fred went home and wrapped his neck in a bandage.
He went to bed early and stared at the ceiling.
"You alright, honey?" Asked Mom, but he never answered.
The next morning, Fred stole his mother's razor and cut off the fruit bud.
Juice dripped down his neck.
It got all over his textbooks and clothes.
Sticky.
Fred didn't care,
Fred just wanted it to stop.
"What did you do?" Sarah asked when she saw the fruit scar.
"This isn't business," Fred said.
He pushed past her and went to class.
Nothing felt right. Nothing felt good. The kids in class had gone from worshiping him to looking away whenever he walked by. No one in class would dare say a word to him. He could hear them whispering about the fruit. Everything that came out of him had grown sour. He knew it. They knew it. Even if Fred wanted to run the auction he knew no one would pay. The fad was over. The magic was gone.
"Don’t ignore me," Sarah said as Fred pushed past her.
He didn't say a word.
Fred continued to cut the fruit before it could bud.
He washed his neck but the juice had stained his skin rainbow hues.
As the days went on, his neck turned brown.
He stunk.
Now kids avoided him.
Good. Let them stay away.
They only wanted him for his fruit anyway.
They were never friends.
He was never popular.
There was just fruit.
All anyone ever cared about was the fruit.
And Sarah, that girl, it was all her fault.
"I said hold up!" Sarah shouted.
Fred kept walking.
Sarah caught up and grabbed him.
"What's with you?" she asked.
"Is this about business?" Fred asked.
"No, it's about you," Sarah said.
"I'm not interested," Fred said.
Fred pushed her hand off of him.
"My God, your neck/ What have you been doing?"
"Nothing," Fred said.
"What are you doing to yourself?" she asked.
Fred pushed her away.
Fred didn't eat, or sleep, or leave his room, or do much of anything for the next few days.
"Sweetie, can we talk?" asked Mom through the door.
Fred said nothing.
"I found out about Mr. Hammerswrot for you," she said.
Fred sighed.
"You asked what he did for a living, right? He doesn't do anything," she said.
She waited by the door for an answer.
"I, I hope that helps, sweetie. If you want me to explain, I'm here for you," she said.
"I don't care," Fred said.
Summer vacation came and Fred stayed in bed.
He heard the sound of kids playing outside through his open window.
He shut the open window.
He looked in the mirror and saw a bud forming on his neck. He reached for a razor to cut away the fruit but something stopped him. Maybe it was the build up if juice, maybe it was the look in his eyes.
He was tired, really tired, and he didn't know what to do.
So he went back to bed and let the fruit grow.
Who cares?
No one cares.
Three days later, a strawberry came.
Fred winced as he plucked it out.
He put it by his bed.
Fred was tired of fruit.
So tired.
"Fred?" asked Mom.
"Are you decent? There's someone here to see you."
"I'm busy," Fred said as he stared at the carpet.
"Go on," Mom said.
The door opened.
Fred retreated to the other side of the bed.
"Hey," Sarah said. "Can I come in?"
Fred looked away.
Sarah stepped closer.
"I'll give you two some time," Mom said.
Mom peaked, grabbed the door, and closed it to just a crack.
Fred put his head on his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs.
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed.
She saw the strawberry.
"Did that just come out of you?" she asked.
Fred nodded.
Sarah picked it up.
"Its beautiful," she said. "I'm glad you stopped cutting them off."
Fred shrugged. "It was easier that way."
Sarah nodded.
"Eat it," he said.
Sarah looked at the strawberry.
She wanted to. Oh how she wanted to.
"I'm not hungry," she said.
"So what," Fred said.
Sarah looked at the strawberry, the delicious plump red thing, and remembered the flavor, that wonderful, satisfying flavor.
She put it down.
"I can't."
"Why not?" Fred asked.
"I just cant."
"That's what you came for, isn't it?"
"No."
"You wanted to sell more fruit, right? You needed some pocket change?"
"You know that's not true."
"Then why? Why come here? What do you want from a weirdo?"
Sarah looked at him and then back at the strawberry.
"You never had any of your fruit, did you?"
"That's disgusting."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It just is."
"Why?"
"Leave."
"Eat it and I'll go."
Fred looked at her.
"Try it," she said as she offered the strawberry.
"If I eat it, you'll go?"
"Promise," she said.
Fred looked at her, took the fruit, and popped it in his mouth.
It was wonderful.
So flavorful.
Fresh.
Delectable.
Special.
The kind of thing you should have to pay to taste.
Fred swallowed.
"So?" Sarah asked.
"Its good."
Sarah nodded.
"I know."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Fred asked.
"I did."
"I guess they're not sour anymore," Fred chuckled.
Sarah shook her head.
"I guess not," she said.
"You want to sell them again?" Fred asked.
Sarah shook her head and bit her lip.
She headed for the door.
"Don't you?" Fred asked.
She glared at him.
"That's not why I came and you know it."
"Then why did you come?"
Sarah looked like she was going to cry.
"Tell me!" Fred demanded. "Is it the money? What are you spending it all on?"
"Don’t make me tell you, Fred, please, you don’t understand."
"What was it? The new phone? New clothes? Where did all the money go? Why Sarah?"
"Why does it matter to you, Fred?"
"It's your dad, isn’t it? He doesn't work."
"What did you just say?" Sarah said through tears.
"Your father doesn’t have a job. That’s why you needed the money."
Sarah rushed Fred and kissed him.
She pulled back, punched him, and cried.
Then she left, just like a summer storm.
Fred didn't know what hit him.
He went to the bathroom and scrubbed until his neck looked brand new.
Dinner was awkward.
Mom hadn't seen anything, but she knew everything, mothers always do.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.
Fred didn't.
So they sat in silence and ate until dinner was over and Fred looked up from his plate.
"Mom,"
"Yes, sweetie,"
"Can we go to the supermarket?"
Mom dropped Fred off at Sarah's house.
He approached the house carrying a basket of strawberries.
Sarah cut him off at the driveway.
"What?" she said.
"I'm sorry," Fred said.
"For what?" Sarah asked.
"I don’t know what I said," Fred said.
"Then how can you apologize?" Sarah said.
They stared.
"I wanted you to have these," Fred said.
He sat the basket down.
"You grew those fast," Sarah said.
The front door opened and out stepped Sarah's father. He looked pale and his skin matched his white robe that in turn complimented his oxygen tank.
"Oh," Fred said.
"Oh," Sarah said, arms crossed.
"You okay, honey?" Sarah's father called.
"I'm fine, Dad. Go back inside, I'll just be a minute."
Sarah's father nodded and left them alone.
"I'm so sorry," Fred said.
"Yeah, me too," Sarah said. "It all got out of hand, you know?"
Fred shook his head.
"I just wanted to get your attention," Fred said.
"Well you certainly succeeded," Sarah said. "Why though?"
"You know, I know how it feels to have a dad that's sick," Fred said.
"I know, Fred, and I try not to think about that. He's all I have," Sarah said
"You’re not alone," Fred said.
Sarah welled up.
"You're such a weirdo, Fred," Sarah said.
"Thank you," Fred said.
He looked in her wet eyes and couldn't stand it any longer.
He kissed her.
Her hands went up, waved to the stars, and fell to her side.
Fred pulled back, his eyes wet as well.
"Sarah," Fred said.
"Don't, don’t ruin this," Sarah said and she kissed him again.
She took the strawberries.
Fred returned to being a wallflower,
His fruit would grow and no one would bid,
Because Sarah owned Fred's fruit,
And Sarah hated to share.
The End.