Winter Peaches

The crunch of the snow underfoot always reminded her of childhood. Even in this place. The middle of a crowded street. Walking swiftly to nowhere in particular. She saw the determination on the faces of those she passed. Desperate to get somewhere warm. She felt that same desperation but had no hope of finding solace. There was no warmth waiting for her at home. Because there was no home.

            Dani lived as close as she could to the library because it was free and accessible. But today was different. She had been tossed out of the alleyway that at least blocked the wind. It wouldn’t last. They had tossed her stuff in the dumpster before and she’d disappeared for a few weeks, only to return and set up camp again. But this time it happened in the middle of January. The coldest month of the year. Usually, she was left alone by the police during the winter. Compassion was strongest then, right before and after Christmas. But not this year. The air was different this year. People were colder. All of them. The ones who voted for that man and the ones who were mad that they did. Everyone felt it, she could tell, even if they weren’t saying it out loud.

            Dani ducked into a diner and found a seat. She had just enough cash for a cup of coffee. She hovered over it like it was a fireplace instead of something to drink. The steam filled her nostrils; the paper cup thawed the palms of her hands. She felt eyes on her, like she always did inside public spaces. Outside she was tolerated, at the very least. Indoors she felt like a feral cat that had wandered into a museum. A filthy, ratty, mangey, unwelcome, nuisance. She almost mewed at them or hissed in their direction. This wasn’t the Ritz, it was a shitty diner. Who did they think they were? Most of them would be in her position in two weeks without a paycheck. And it seemed like those were the ones that sneered the hardest. Like their disgust could protect them from the same fate.

            She was a paying customer anyway, and she sipped her warm drink as slow as humanly possible. She didn’t have a destination in mind. Most of the usual spots were no longer welcoming to the unhoused. Choices were getting thinner and thinner by the day. People like her used to be pitied, and that was bad, uncomfortable. But now, now it was worse. The pity was gone, replaced by loathing. The was at least one place she could think of that hadn’t run people off yet. They had small cabins set up specifically for people like her, but it was so far outside the city. It was much harder to get spare change in the suburbs. People in the city tossed you a couple of bucks out of habit if nothing else. To them you were a wishing well, open to their noisy loose change. They could spare it for the wish of good karma. The suburbs were for people to either adopt you for a few hours for social media photoshoots. ‘Look how generous I am, I gave her a sandwich’.  Or they would avoid you completely.

            “Refill?” the waitress asked her.

            “Are they free?” Dani asked.

            “Just this one,” the waitress said with a weak smile.

            “Sure,” Dani held her cup up to the pot with the orange ring around the top. The cup was filled and she was handed a lid. She was getting booted out, the refill was her severance pay. She didn’t have to be told, it was in their body language. The waitress looking back at a man behind the counter who was glaring at Dani. Not because he genuinely cared but because other customers were complaining about her. She knew. She just knew.

            She went a few blocks before her warm cup was a coffee-cicle. It was good while it lasted. She tossed it into a trash can. It clanged on the rim, hard as a rock. She could feel herself getting weaker, her skin burning. The parts that she could still feel anyway. The wind felt like millions of needles on her face. Her eyes gushed tears that froze on her cheeks. Snow made it hard to see that far ahead. None of this was bothering other pedestrians as much because they were going in and out of places at their leisure. But they didn’t take their time either.

            She finally made it out of the city onto the highway. Just beyond the railroad tracks she city streets dwindled into two lanes. A road going through fields that went on for miles. They were cornfields at a different time of the year. Now they were covered in at least a foot of snow. It looked like she had stepped across the train tracks into another dimension completely.

            She walked on a few miles and then saw something in the field. A tree, right in the center of it. That was unusual anyway but stranger still was the tree wasn’t barren. It wasn’t a pine, it was shaped like a fruit tree. Dani knew she should stay on the road but curiosity got the better of her. The tree was a good distance out, standing there all alone. Walking through the foot of snow was dangerous. Her legs would surely frostbite, but she couldn’t believe her eyes. She had to see what was going on out there.

            She trudged through the snow slowly. Her legs in just ratty jeans getting covered in white ice all the way to her knees. Her tennis shoes soaked through and her three pairs of socks. Her feet were sore and burning with cold. But she kept on. When she got closer she was sure that it was a fruit tree, with green leaves and something growing thick within. When she finally got within a few yards of it, she saw that it was full of ripe peaches. They looked to be bursting with life. That was impossible. She was dead, she had to be, there was no way she was seeing this right here in the middle of nowhere.

            But then she realized she couldn’t be dead, she was starving. Dead people don’t get hungry do they? It didn’t really matter because she wanted to taste the peaches more than anything she’d ever wanted before. She reached up and grabbed one, plucking it with a snap of the branch. She took a bite and moaned loudly, chewing quickly. She ate the entire thing in a matter of seconds. The began to reach for another and heard something in the tree. She paused. Wiping the juice off her face with her coat sleeve.

            “Hello?” she called up into the darkness of the dense greenery.

            “Hi there,” a voice called back. She squinted up into the tree and saw a tiny person sitting on top of one of the peaches.

            “Oh, I’m dreaming,” she said.

            “Nope,” the little creature said, kicking their feet playfully.

            “I’m dead then,” she said.

            “No,” the little person said with a giggle. Dani couldn’t tell the gender of the person, or if it even had one. It was just sitting there in a little white gown. Pink hair to the shoulders.

            “What are you?” Dani asked.

            “What? I’m not a what, I’m a who,” the person said.

            “Okay so who are you?” she asked.

            “My name is Tiptoe,” the person said.

            “Really? Now I know I’m dreaming,” Dani said.

            Tiptoe laughed and held their little belly, falling backwards on the peach. They were small enough to have room to do so without falling off. Tiptoe raised back up and wiped their eyes, “No, no, no, Dani, you’re awake.”

            Dani gasped and took a step back, it was surprisingly easy and she looked down. The snow underneath the tree was gone. Everywhere else it was still there but the area just beneath the tree was lush grass with little purple flowers sprinkled all around. “What is happening? Where am I? How did you know my name?”

            “Because silly, this tree was put here just for you,” Tiptoe said.

            “Me? Why?” Dani asked. She knew she should be more frightened, but her feet were dry and warm now. The air was the perfect temperature, and she could smell the fresh peaches. Plus, she was sure this was something like a dream. If she wasn’t asleep or dead, perhaps she was somewhere in between.

            “Because you needed it,” Tiptoe said, “you needed help so bad Dani.”

            “Well, I can’t argue with that,” she said. “But where does all this come from?”

            “Does it matter?” Tiptoe asked. Dani considered the question. Then got another peach and took a bite. Tiptoe smiled.

            Dani tilted her head at him, “Wait… what about the others?”

            “Other what?” Tiptoe asked.

            “The other people like me, that need help?” Dani asked.

            “Do they matter? You have warmth, food,” Tiptoe said.

            Dani stopped eating and looked around, “But what about them?”

            “You can’t help them,” Tiptoe said.

            “Can’t I go get them and bring them here?” Dani asked.

            “No, I’m afraid this is just for you,” Tiptoe said. “If you leave and give all this up, it won’t help them any.”

            “I just don’t feel right, having this to myself while other people are starving,” Dani said.

            “That’s easy for you to say after eating a whole peach and a half. Do you know how many days I can live on one peach?” Tiptoe stood and put their hands on their hips.

            “I can take a few right? Will they still exist out there?” Dani asked.

            Tiptoe sighed, “Yes.”

            “Okay, thank you,” Dani said and started picking peaches. She got as many as she could carry. “I’m sorry Tiptoe but I have to try.”

            “You’re giving up endless food and warmth just to take some peaches to other people?” Tiptoe asked.

            “Yes,” Dani said.

            “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Tiptoe asked.

            Dani bit her lip and nodded, “Yeah, Yes, I’m sure.”

            Tiptoe smiled, “Alright.”

            Dani felt the earth start to shake, and then a bright flash of light. She was laying in the snow.  The tree was gone.

            “There she is,” she heard someone say. She looked around and a few people were running toward her.

            “Dani!” one of them called to her.

            “Mrs. Freedman,” another said. “What happened?”

            “I don’t know,” Dani said sitting up. They wrapped a blanket around her and led her to a car. Her car. A black Mercedes with tinted windows. She couldn’t remember anything except walking through the field and then waking up.

            “You’re late to the gala,” her assistant said once they were back in the car. The driver looked back at her concerned. She was still shivering with the blanket around her.

            “The gala?” she asked.

            “The one being thrown in your honor, because you donated billions to charity?” her assistant said.

            “Right, I’m so confused,” Dani said.

            “They want to know what you want for dessert,” her assistant asked.

            “I know they are out of season but is there any way we can get a pie, peach? I’m craving peaches so badly for some reason,” she said looking out the window at the field.