Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Bad Fruit



The clouds were large and white and puffy.  On days like this she could forget for awhile about what she had to face when she got home.  Especially if she went home empty handed.



Jenna sighed and picked up her basket. She trotted over to where Ashton was busy filling his basket with the fallen fruit.

"There's nothing left over there," she said. Ashton wiped his hands on his dirty jeans and looked in her basket.

"Shoot. You have space left," he said.

"I know. Is there enough over here for me and you?" she asked, looked around the base of the tree.

"Aw, who knows. Just start working. We'll figure it out once we pick up all this."

They both got to work. They had been doing this their whole lives together. They both were left at the home when they were babies and they both watched kids come and go. For some reason they were stuck there. And Mr. Trisk seemed to believe they were just freeloading there. As if they enjoyed living the past 14 years without a family. So he imposed this workload on them to "help pay their way." Jenna just couldn't understand why she and Ashton were the only ones who had to do it. What did Mr. Trisk have against them?

"You're picking up fruit angry again," Ashton commented. Jenna stopped and realized that she had been throwing the fruit in her basket pretty hard.

"Well, just thinking of Mr. Trisk you know," Jenna growled.

"Jen. You have to let it go. You only have two choices here: accept our situation and do the work with a calm heart or be angry while we do the work. You know anger upsets your stomach," Ashton said, his face filled with understanding. For a brief moment Jenna was angry at him. How could he not be angry too? But she knew Ashton was her closest friend. Practically her brother. And he was always looking out for her. She knew she could trust him.

"I just don't know how," she whispered.

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