Answers at the Pear Tree

“The day the first pear falls from the tree unto the grassy ground below, you will know the answer.”

Day 1

Desi was crouched at the end of her front walk, looping her shoelaces furiously around one another. She scanned the sidewalk and then slowly rose to standing. Not a soul stirred under the perfect blue sky for as far as Desi could see. Another quiet day in another beige suburbia. Is this a cliche start to our hero’s journey? Sure. I’d love for you to come up with something better, if you’re so smart. This isn’t even about you, anyway, it’s about Desi and the frickin pear tree, so just try to be a little less critical. It could be worse— it could be “a dark and stormy night….”.

Desi started down the street, lost in thought about what answer awaited her. In fact, she was so lost in thought, that she had forgotten to avoid her aunt Mira’s house completely, and in doing so, was interrupted by a shrill “DESIREE ELIZABETH MY DARLING!!” She flinched as if someone had flicked her in the brain, but pushed her shoulders down to hide her visceral reaction to her aunt in her presence.

“Hi, Aunt Mira. How are you?”

Aunt Mira put a hand on her hip and looked over the top of the wire frames jammed onto her nose.

“Well you certainly don’t expect me to stand out here telling you do you? You’ll join me for tea.”

“Actually, aunt Mira, I did have somewhere I needed to get to today so—“

“YOU WILL JOIN ME. FOR TEA.”

Desi forced a grin. “Of course I will, aunt Mira. I’m right behind you.”

The pear would have to wait, as would her answer.

Day 2

The doorbell rang just as Desi had finished tightening her shoelaces. She rose to the door and peered through the peep hole to find a girl holding a small box. Normally Desi would not open the door for a stranger with a package, but she had a feeling this could only be explained by the work of Zachary Lund.

Zachary had moved away in fifth grade, but every summer he would come back to visit his grandmother, just across the street from Desi’s house. Every summer, Desi and Zachary were inseparable, and every summer, when Zachary and his family pulled away to drive back home, he slipped a note into Desi’s palm with a sort of quest scratched onto it. One year, he drew a map and planned a scavenger hunt, where Desi eventually hunted down a huge basket of all of her favourite candies. Last year, she had to ride the bus to the city tulip garden and search every row for the hidden treasure, which ended up being two tickets to the fall festival. “Something to look forward to” had been etched on the back in Zachary’s unmistakeable handwriting. Intriguing right? Lovers? Friends? What will happen? WHAT IS DESI’S QUESTION?! Well I can’t tell you now can I?

Desi pulled open the door to find the little girl patiently awaiting with a smile on her face.

“You’re Desi?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“My employer described you perfectly,” the little girl sang, “he said you’re the only one in the house with eyes like sapphires and, well, I see the sapphires!”

Desi tried not to blush. “I hope your employer pays you well, kid. What was your assignment exactly?”

The little girl beamed as she stretched her arms up as high as they could go, putting the small box as close to Desi’s face as possible. It was about the size of a box you might receive a Christmas ornament in, and on the front of the box was a picture of a large green pear.

“Just to give you this.”

Desi plucked the box from the little girl’s hand, who promptly skipped away without another word. Zachary had never left a second clue before, and certainly had not involved third parties in the previous treasure hunts. Desi shimmied the lid off of the box, and reached in to find another small, ripped piece of paper.

“The first pear will fall any day now. If you’re not careful, your answer may be claimed by someone else.”

Right on cue, Desi’s parents pulled into the driveway with a trunk full of groceries.

“Come Desi— we need to get these inside quickly if we are going to make it on time to your cousin’s baby shower! Hurry!”

“Please… wait for me. I’ll get my answer tomorrow” Desi muttered under her breath.

Day 3

It was a dark and stormy night (shut up): the rain beat relentlessly against Desi’s bedroom window, but no sound was as relentless as the rhythmic snoring of her parents. Desi had been stuck helping her parents at the store today, and as riveting as sticking price tags on boxes of tampons and hot Cheeto’s had been, she was ready for the next adventure: to get her answer at the pear tree. Ahhh see I used the thing I said was the thing I shouldn’t use but it worked didn’t it? Admit it, you’re hoping she gets to the damn tree tonight. Trust me, so am I. It’s day three and I’m running out of ideas.

Desi crept through the dark war timer, avoiding the creakiest steps and stairs she’d had memorized since her childhood days of sneaking for extra bowls of chips and secret episodes of shows about hot doctors having sex. As Desi reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed a glowing reflection in the microwave door: a glowing reflection of red hot medical professionals in an on call room. She continued to mission impossible her way to the living room, where she found her twin sister, Jennifer, eating chips, watching the episode Desi had not yet seen.

“Well well well…” Desi clucked. “Mom and dad know you’re down here?”

Jennifer continued to watch hot doctor sex. “They know you’re down here?”

Desi scoffed. “I asked you first.”

“Or that you’re sneaking out to go sit under a tree in a storm?”

“Stop reading my diary. And stop watching my secret PVR’s without inviting me, you toadstool.”

Jennifer pushed pause violently on the remote. “Consider this your invite, you burnt piece of toast.”

Desi still felt the burn of curiosity within, but the more she compared soaking wet under a pear tree to cozy, warm, and entertained by characters with PhD’s, the latter was certainly winning. Surely between now and tomorrow the pear could wait, and no one would be out in the rain stealing answers tonight would they?

Once again, the pear and her answer would have to wait.

Day 4, 5, 6

Desi tried to get to the tree but is met with some dumb obstacle or distraction and she still doesn’t have an answer or a frickin’ pear. You get the point. If you’re still here then what I’m doing is working so you can stuff that judgment right back where it came from, pal. Get ready for a hell of an ending.

Day 7

Desi bursted through her front door and took off in a full sprint down the sidewalk. She veered out of Aunt Mira’s sight line, shortcut through the empty lots to bypass the construction, and avoided any close contact with anyone she might know: she was on her game today, and had an anger burning inside of her from the last six days of hang ups and tropes getting in her way. Okay, but what kind of a writer would I be if I just let you run straight to the climax and get your answer? Life isn’t a fairy tale, Desi. It’s a short fiction story I’m entering for a chance to win $6500.

Her soul was piloting her feet, and it knew exactly where to go, with no time to waste. She hopped the fence and found herself at the foot of the orchard hills: the pear tree was mere feet away, just atop the first hill. Desi’s hands were planted firmly on her waist, and she leaned over, staring up at the final leg of her journey.

A figure emerged from the top of the hill, staring right back down at her. The figure played catch with a large, ripe pear.

It was Zachary Lund. Okay sure, you can say you saw this coming, but isn’t it satisfying? Doesn’t it make you feel like a kid again? Is it obvious I’ve been watching too many episodes of young adult soaps on Netflix?

“Well, it really is quite shocking this is the first year you’ve been the treasure.” Desi panted as she reached the tree.

“What can I say? I saved the best for last. It took you long enough to find it, by the way.” Zachary took a confident bite from the pear.

“Last?”

“Uhuh. This is your last treasure hunt.”

Desi frowned. “Oh… well, I get it. I mean, it’s getting hard to top yourself each year. You’ve resorted to hiring second graders?”

“Uhh— she is a third grader, FYI,” Zachary lectured with narrowed eyes, “and she’s my cousin from back in Delaware. She’s also who let me know when you finally started making your way to the damn hill.”

“I just say, for one of the most simple challenges yet, I had the hardest time getting to the end. And I don’t think I know my answer.”

Zachary moved closer to Desi, leaning on the trunk of the pear tree in front of her. He stared upward into the green sea of pears above him.

“But your question that night was, “when can I stop saying goodbye to you.”

Desi cocked her head to one side. “Oh… well….yeah?”

Zachary moved his gaze to meet Desi’s. He placed a hand gently on her waist, and used the other to brush her hair from her eyes, resting it amongst her soft curls.

“Well?”

Desi’s sapphire eyes sparkled. The pear once held in Zachary’s hand laid at their feet, and yet, Desi could taste it’s sweetness.