Mom's Apple Pie - A Farmer Story
By Dana Short
Johnny Thompson climbed over old Mr. Watters' fence an' crept up towards the house. He was right! His nose had not deceived him! The Old Farmer's daughter was baking a pie! An apple pie, from what he could smell.
Katelyn Watters was known for her apple pies. He sure hoped he could flitch another one.
He made it to the side of the house, an' hid in the shadow of the porch. The kitchen was just inside the house, an' he'd spied Katelyn setting pies out on the porch to cool. The trick would be waitin 'til it was cool enough to flitch, an' getting it an' gettin out afore Katelyn came back out to reclaim it. Oh, just like the last time, they'd know it'd been flitched, but they wouldn't necessarily know by whom!
He could hear voices comin from in the kitchen. Both old man Watters AN' Katelyn was in there! Watters was speakin: "An that's how ya makes the pies."
"So that was your Mom's recipe? I would have never guessed! Thanks Pa, we'll just set it out here to cool an' see if it works," Katelyn's voice said, as feet stomped on the porch just above Johnny's head.
Johnny could hear as they thunked the pie down on the railin, an then sat on the durn porch in their swinging chair almost right above him! If they were gonna sit there all day, he'd never get a chance to flitch the pie!
Johnny's head practically spun tryin to come up with a plan to get them to leave the porch an' abandon the pie long enough fer him to flitch it. But despite the spicy cinnamon-apple odor emanating from the pie fulin' his thoughts, he cudn't come up with nuthin!
A half-an-our of torture latter, he could hear Katelyn get up, an' say to the Ol Man "Pie's about ready now."
"Yep." Came the response.
"We ought to go in an' straighten up the kitchen." Katelyn continued, walking right over Johnny's head an' into the house.
"Yep." Came Ol' Man Watters reply, as he also got up an' headed into the house.
Johnny couldn't believe his luck! They had waited plenny long nuf fer the pie ta cool, an now they was jus leavin it for him to filch in his own free time! Most folks, they'd a cleaned the kitchen while the pie was still hot, then they'd a been ready ta eat it soon as it had cooled enough. Strange folks the Watters'. 'Course everyone 'round these parts knew that already.
Johnny shimmied out from under the porch an' moseyed up 'til he was just below the protruding edge of the pie pan. He reached up a finger an' touched the pan. Warm, but not too hot. Perfect! He slowly used his fingertips to slide the pie off the edge of the railing, an' onto his hand. Then when he was holding the pan in his hand, he lowered it down 'til it was level with his face.
The smell of the pie from this distance was incredible! This was even better than the pies Katelyn was known fer making!
Holdin' onta the pie carefully, Johnny ran 'cross the yard, an' ducked behind the barn. He sat there with the barn 'twixt him an' the house, an' looked down at the pie in his lap. It smelled just too good to carry all the way home. He figgured here was as good a place as any ta eat the filched pie, so he poked a finger inta the pie an' slid it inside its pan 'til a bit of it was stickin out. He wraped his mouth around it an' took a bite. Delicious. He had never eaten such a good apple pie. He shoved a bit more of it off the edge an' bit again.
Afore he knowed it, he had finished the whole durn thing! Feelin a satisfied rumble in his stomach, he opened his eyes, an came up with a sight that made his heart go flip-flop! Sammell Watters! Standin there with his fingers looped into his belt, an' smilin like the devil hisself!
"Ya know ya shouldn go stealin from folks, Johnny," Sammell said, shaking his head.
"I... I'm sorry Mr. Watters, it's just that--"... Johnny began.
"Oh, it's all right. I know that pie musta smelled awful good, an ya jus cuddnt help yaself. But ya should know, that wern't just any ol pie ya stole," The Farmer said, shaking his head a little sadly.
"Whadaya mean?" Johnny asked.
"Well, it was sorta an ol family recipie, 'fact my ma was the last one ta make it, afore today, back in the hills where I grew up."
"An?" Johnny asked.
"An it was a recipe fer a punishment on another little pie thief that she cooked it up for. A little pie thief just like you," Ol Man Watters replied.
Suddenly Johnny felt a stingin, like a thousan' bees was attackin his hide.
"I'm sorry 'bout this Johnny, but Katelyn an' I, we can't abide by no one stealin from us. It's your own durn fault," the Farmer said.
As Johnny raised his hand, he saw it had bumps swellin up all over it, like he'd been bit by thousands of skeeters. Then, suddenly they started breakin open, an SEEDS started fallin out. They wern't just fallin' out, Johnny realised, as he collapsed into a pile on the ground, his whole body was becomming literally thousands of little seeds. That was his last coherent thought, afore his very brain scattered it'self.
The Farmer frowned a bit as he thought of all the planting he had to do. He looked over at the horse still grazing in its pasture. Well, at least he had ol' Phill to help him with the hard stuff. He shook his head as he bent down an' scooped the seeds into a bag, labeled "Johnny Apple Seeds."
End...
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