The Year Money Grew on Trees (6 page)

"Are you kidding? Your mom reminds me of it every
time I'm in your living room. That's gonna last my whole life. All I'm asking from you is one crop of apples."

Amy sat up and rolled her eyes.

"You know, we could probably use my sisters and your brothers if they would do it," I added.

"Are they going to get part of the huge fortune too?"

"I guess they would have to, but there should be plenty to go around."

"Like how much?"

"Thousands probably."

"Thousands? Hmm. Well, if you can convince them to actually work, it might be all right."

"I'll go talk to everyone. Maybe I'll tell them that the amount they would get depends on how much work I think they could do."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay, so we'll start tomorrow?" I asked enthusiastically. "I need you to come with me to Mrs. Nelson's to get some stuff."

"Tomorrow? I can't believe I said I'd do it." She sighed as she dropped back onto her bed.

I was mostly happy that Amy had agreed to help, but I felt a little guilty about our conversation. First, no boy had really asked me about her, although this seemed like just a small stretch of the truth. I was sure that there were
plenty
of boys at school who liked her and would like
to know more about her. I felt worse telling her about getting money after we sold all the apples. It was kind of true, though, because we would get everything over $8,000, plus the orchard itself had to be worth money. I'd be happy to split that with her if she wanted. Somehow the money details would just have to be worked out later. That was so far into the future, it seemed unreal. For now, we just needed to get things started.

After talking with Amy, I spoke with each of the younger kids that night, starting with my cousin Sam. He was eleven and was like a very energetic puppy constantly moving and searching for something. The instant I mentioned that Amy and I were going to be working together, he wanted to be a part of it. At first he suggested having his own set of trees to take care of and even volunteered to take half of the orchard. It took ten minutes to convince him that probably wasn't a good idea. He wanted to start that night, even though it was almost completely dark outside. I started talking about what part of the earnings he could make before I realized that he was more than willing to work for nothing. In the end we agreed that he should have 11 percent since he was eleven. That reasoning really appealed to Sam.

My cousin Michael was a more difficult case. He was nine and the only true loner in our family. Sometimes
I wouldn't see him for days at a time. He also wasn't very good at following instructions, but I was a desperate employer and willing to sign up anyone. During our conversation, I eventually had to resort to stroking his ego by telling him that Amy and I didn't think we could do it without him. He was very interested in the money and how much of it he could make and kept repeating, "Well, I don't think you can do it without me." He started by demanding half of any money but had to accept the logic that if Sam was older and getting 11 percent, he should be happy with less. We settled on 9 percent since, of course, he was nine. I also told him that his percentage would go down if he didn't work hard. He repeated, "You won't be able to do it without me."

My sisters were hard to convince too. Lisa was ten and didn't seem all that interested in the money, but was concerned she might be left out of something everyone else was doing. She also didn't like the idea of working after school because she might get bad grades if she couldn't do her homework.

"I want to go to college, you know, and you have to get good grades all the way down to kindergarten," she said matter-of-factly.

"How is a college supposed to know what your grades were in elementary school?"

"They check. They call the school and find out. Our teacher told us so."

I couldn't argue with her. Our years together had taught me that much. In the end we agreed that she would work only on Saturdays, but she had to do it without complaining or she couldn't be part of the team. Dividing the money by age seemed to make a lot of sense now, so we agreed on 10 percent for her.

My youngest sister, Jennifer, was eight. She wanted to do just what Lisa did, so she was only available on Saturdays too. She also didn't want to work near her boy cousins. I thought she would only be good for about 3 percent, but I figured it was best to stay with the age system, so she got 8.

By the end of that night, I had given away a large chunk of future apple money. It may have been more than 100 percent, but I was too afraid to add it up. I had the same bad feelings I had had after talking with Amy. I knew I could make it right, though, even if I had to give everyone a part of the orchard once Mrs. Nelson handed it over. They might all quit after the first day, anyway. Except for Sam. I had a feeling that those trees would be seeing a lot of him in the future whether they liked it or not.

When we got home from school the next day, I quickly went into my house to look for my mom's clippers. She used them when she gardened, and I thought they might be helpful for the pruning that lay ahead. I finally found them in my dad's toolbox and ran out of the house. I did, however, slow down long enough to grab the apple book and give my two sisters dirty looks on the way out for not being willing to help on school days. They were sitting at the kitchen table doing their homework and pretending not to notice me.

I went over to my cousins' house and knocked on the door. "We're coming," Amy said dully, opening the door with Sam and Michael right behind her. She had changed her clothes to several layers of the shabbiest things she owned, with the top layer being a New Mexico Lobos sweatshirt her dad had gotten at a flea market.

"So what exactly are we doing?" she asked as we all started walking toward the orchard.

"I need you to come with me first. Sam and Michael, you take this book and these clippers and go wait for us by the trees closest to the road."

I led Amy toward Mrs. Nelson's house while Sam and Michael worked their way through the orchard. As I knocked on Mrs. Nelson's door, Amy whispered, "What are we doing here?"

Before I could answer, Mrs. Nelson opened the door. "Hi, Jackson! How are you?" she greeted me happily. "How are those trees?"

"Hi, Mrs. Nelson. This is my cousin Amy, and we're just coming over to talk about that."

Mrs. Nelson gave Amy a little nod.

"We're going to get started with some pruning. Do you remember your husband doing that?"

"Well, maybe," she said very thoughtfully.

"Did he have any special tools he used for it?"

"If he did, they would be in the shed behind the house."

"Do you think we could have a look and maybe use some of the things in there?"

"I don't see why not. They're just sitting in there."

The three of us walked behind Mrs. Nelson's house and opened the doors to a little building. The inside was dark and it took a few seconds for our eyes to adjust. Dust and spider webs were everywhere. There were shelves against the wall piled high with unfamiliar items, like canvas bags, metal pipes, and tangles of hoses.

"Is there anything in here that could be used for cutting branches?" I asked, almost speaking to myself.

"How about this?" Mrs. Nelson asked after pulling a tool off one of the shelves. It had two long wooden handles with curved metal blades at the point. I recognized them from the apple book.

"I think those are just what we're looking for," I said as I took them from Mrs. Nelson. I moved the wooden handles back and forth and watched the metal blades move like scissors.

"Here's another one just like it," Amy said from the corner. We searched for another ten minutes without finding more pruning tools, but we did pull two long ladders off the shelves. I thanked Mrs. Nelson, and then Amy and I started dragging the ladders and tools toward the orchard. Each ladder was heavier than I realized at
first, and I was a little surprised that Amy was able to drag hers all by herself. She didn't say a word about Mrs. Nelson.

We found Sam and Michael and dropped our ladders at the very corner of the orchard. Sam had climbed to the top of a tree while Michael was throwing dirt clods at its trunk. The apple book was lying in some mud along with my mom's clippers.

I picked up the book and looked at everyone. "Okay, according to this, if we want a good crop of apples, we
have to cut off some of the branches before the leaves and apples start growing on them."

"That sounds stupid. If we cut off the branches, won't there be less places for apples to grow?" Michael asked confrontationally.

"Yeah, but the book says the ones that do grow will be bigger. The trees will spend more energy growing apples and less time feeding all the branches or something."

I turned to the pages in the book on pruning that illustrated the kind of spacing between branches that was just right. Amy, Michael, and I began debating how many branches to take off the first tree and where to start cutting. We each tried the pruning scissors and found that with just a little force they could cut off branches as thick as our fingers. We were deep in discussion about how to reach the highest branches when we heard a sawing noise. Sam had run home and gotten the saw his dad usually only used for cutting down Christmas trees. Before we could stop him, a huge branch just a few feet off the ground was cut through and fell with a
thunk.

"I'm not sure that's really the idea, Sam. We probably want to leave most of the big branches," I said, gaping at the branch on the ground.

"Yeah, okay. But at least we know this saw works pretty well," he replied with enthusiasm.

It was decided that Sam would climb each tree and
cut the thicker branches near the trunk using his saw. Amy and I would use the ladders and pruning scissors and attack the outer branches. Michael was given the clippers and told to work on the smaller branches near the ground or those he could reach standing on the first few steps of our ladders. He of course wanted one of the larger pruning tools, but after putting it to a vote, he had to settle for the clippers.

We swarmed the first tree. I made my first few cuts nervously. Every few minutes Amy and I would call to each other, "How does that look?" or, "Does this look right?" We climbed up and down the ladders consulting the book's illustrations.

Sam and Michael never questioned their own work. From the middle of the tree and over our heads, large branches were continually dropping under Sam's saw. I was beginning to worry if there would be anything left to the tree if he kept it up. The bottom branches were also suffering, although the clippers really limited the size of branches Michael could destroy.

After what seemed like an hour, Amy and I had worked our way around the outside of the tree moving our ladders four or five times. I was just about to say, "Okay, let's all get down and have a look," when there was a crashing of branches to my left followed by a thud.

Sam had fallen out of the tree and lay face-down on the cold dirt. The rest of us stared at him, stunned. He
got to his feet slowly, panting, and said, "Well, the middle's all done."

We stood back and examined the tree while looking at the book for comparison.

"It looks terrible!" Michael blurted out. "And it's freezing."

"Who asked you?" said Amy turning on him angrily. "Look, it's supposed to look bad when it's just bare branches. And you two boys have to stop cutting off so much. It's almost like the whole middle and bottom are gone."

I agreed with her but was glad that she was the one saying it.

"Now, let's try again on the next one and be more careful," she demanded.