The Apple (Kerry)

The Apple

The girl crept stealthily from the kitchen. The apple was hidden in her apron pocket. She could feel the weight of it as she marched quickly across the square. She wanted to hold it, to stop it bouncing against her legs, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. If she weren’t swinging her arms in the regulation style, one of the sentinels mingling in the crowd would single her out and admonish her. She couldn’t afford to have that happen today.

Fear was causing her breath to come in short, sharp gasps. Her chest was tight. She was worried that someone would notice the guilt etched onto her face. She imagined her secret sitting like a monkey on her shoulders in full view to the world. It terrified her.

It was some relief for her to step through the doorway of her hut and out of the public gaze. But even here the security cameras fitted in each room were watching her. She had to behave normally so as not to rouse any suspicion. She picked up her book lying on the table and sat in the chair facing away from the camera until she could compose herself.

She felt absolutely alone. There was no-one she could confide in. If she mentioned her discovery to any of the adults, even her mother, they would be obliged to report her to the Council. However life in the village had trained her to be independent and resourceful. She knew she would find a solution to her dilemma. And she would have to rely on her own resources.

She had taken an enormous risk stealing the apple in daylight but there was no other way. The kitchen was locked at night and the Council had instigated a curfew after dark. She’d had to slip the apple in to her pocket during a diversion when the security camera had swung away from the pantry. Her next problem was to get it to the barn. That would have to wait until the morning.

As the sun rose, the girl untied her two goats from their hitching post behind the hut. She led them, as always, out into the square. She forced herself to smile at the lone sentinel as she marched along the near-empty road. Her heart was pounding. She knew that the danger of being searched had passed once she had crossed the village border, out through the open gates in the stone wall. Outside she would not be monitored unless a Council vehicle came along the road and the sentinels decided to undertake a spot check.

The goats followed her down the overgrown path through the forest. This was a short cut to the field where they would graze. It was along here that the girl had discovered the old barn the previous day.

She had heard his moaning first. It had stopped her in her tracks. Every instinct warned her to keep walking, to ignore it, but she couldn’t. The sounds had come from an old building, back off the path, that she hadn’t really noticed before. She had tied the goats to a tree and walked quietly to the building.

Through the broken doorway she could see the sentinel lying on the ground in the corner. He had spoken softly to her, imploring her to help him, not to be afraid. He had escaped from the village. Sentinels were contracted to duty for a year but he had to get home to his own village urgently to see his dying father.

She could see that he was ill. She had shared her water bottle with him and left him with some of the bread and cheese she had packed for her own lunch, promising to return the next day.

Now she lifted the precious apple out of her pocket and handed it to him. He reached over, smiling, and accepted her gift. It would be sufficient to give him the strength to continue his journey.



Kerry MacAulay
8th March 2009