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Green Apples

Story ID:5842
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:retired
Story type:Poem
Location:Hemet CA USA
Year:1930
Person:Chelsea Kansas Kid
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Green Apples



Chelsea School and Green Apples

We piled into the Olds
The Manka family
The four of us
Headed for Missouri.

On down the highway
We definitely had a reason
We were going to pick some fruit
It was apple season.

My mother would make
Applesauce, and jellies
Put them in a jar
To fill our little bellies.

With bushel baskets of fruit
In the trunk in the back
My little brother and me
Had a few apples in a sack.

On the way home we ate a few
My Dad he did warn us, mindfully
Go light on those green apples
Or you will suffer mightily.

The next morning before I went to school
Grumbling and cramping
My stomach was a churning
In the Outhouse I was camping.

Those words of my Dad
I did not heed
Now Iím paying
For apples I did feed

I started to school,
Made it past Irvyís house
Past Haverís farm
Almost to the Chelsea School Outhouse.

Iíd been walking stiff legged
Not a tree or a patch of weeds
For the last half mile
To take care of my needs.

About fifty feet away
I tried to step over the fence
And when I raised my leg
Alas I messed my pants.

I turned and headed home
Up the road I did see
Mrs. Fowler in her model ďTĒ
Heading straight for me

She stopped me and said
Where are you goin, son
I said I was going home
She told me to hop on.

I couldnít get in
And you know why
I kept on walking
Trying hard not to cry.

I went into the house
My Mom wasnít impressed
I took off all my clothes
Cleaned up and re dressed.

Walked back to school
Walked in the door
All the eyes were on me
Wished I could fall thro the floor.

Trying to act casual
About my being late
Sat down at my desk
And pondered my mistake.

When in a Loud Harsh Whisper
That could be heard clear to Paris France
Tyne Holderman said
What Ja Do Monte, S- - - your pants.

The kids giggled
Some even held their nose
I turned Red, wished I were Dead
Looked down at my toes.

Now that my secrets out
Now that everyone can grapple
Why I was late to Chelsea school
It was those green apples.

Take my advice
Listen to what your parents say
And that will prepare you
So youíll live not to rue the day.

05-07-06 By Monte Manka