Peaches for Me

Written by Zoe BykowskiPhotography by Noah Laroia-NguyenHad Emma Olson been asked to describe her idea of Hell, it would not have looked like what she was seeing: Red magma seeping like blood from the cracked ground; fiery pits opening out of nowhere. Stalactites dripping from the cavernous ceiling, obscured by a poisonous smog that choked the air.It was so cliché.The place felt like a theme park—too hot, too loud, too many people. And the tiny red demons certainly didn’t help.The tallest demon only came up to her knees, but they had sharp pitchforks and shrill tongues, both of which Emma found horribly annoying. She gave one a kick and laughed as they scattered.“Stop that,” someone coughed.Another demon, taller and with a long white beard, approached carrying a scroll. His whiskers trailed in the dirt and he leaned heavily against a gnarled walking stick.“Why?” Emma wondered aloud.He glared at her. “Because I said so.” Then, more to himself, “Young people! Always questioning authority.” He coughed again, a phlegmy sound.Emma didn’t feel like going into why you should always question authority. Instead she asked, “Why am I here? This is Hell, isn’t it?”The old demon grumbled. “Sooner or later we all arrive here.” He dramatically flicked open the scroll. “You are in Hell, Emma Olson,” he paused for effect, but Emma ignored him, picking at a scab. He sighed. “You are in Hell because you are a naturally cruel person.” And with that he snapped the scroll shut.“That’s not much of a reason, is it?” Emma said, pointedly. “I can’t help it if I like when people get hurt—it’s funny.”’“That is not my problem,” said the elderly demon, “You are dead; now sit in the corner and think about what you have done.”“That’s my punishment?” asked Emma, surprised. “I don’t have to wear a dunce cap, do I?”“If you like. Right now, Hell is overpopulated. We have had to downsize just to meet demands.” He gestured toward the tiny demons gathered around him, who glared at Emma from behind the safety of the elder. One snapped its jaws in a menacing fashion.“Enough of that, we have other matters to attend to.” He swept away, the others following close behind him.Emma stood on an outcropping of rock for a few minutes, bored. She swung her legs around, kicking up ash, and started to whistle shrilly.“Oy! Keep it down! Summa us are tryin’ to get on with our eternal damnations ‘ere!”“…Where?” Emma looked for who had spoken.“Down ‘ere ye stupid girl!”Emma peered over the volcanic shelf. Below her stood a clear puddle of water with ebony trees stationed around it like sentries. A skinny old man wearing a filthy loincloth stood hunched in the water.“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he demanded.“You,” responded Emma, truthfully.He broke down. “Ah know, I must look a right fool sarvin’ an’ thirstin’ when there’s water an’ food right ‘ere,” the old man sobbed.“You’re Tantalus, aren’t you?” asked Emma, completely unaffected by his plight.“Yeh’ve heard of me?” His surprise seemed genuine.“Yup.” Emma dropped down and plucked a ripe peach off a branch before shining it on her shirt.Tantalus watched enviously. “Yeh know, if ye eat that ye can ne’er return to the surface.”Emma paused, fruit halfway to her mouth. “There’s a way out?”“Haven't signed a contract, then?” he looked at her, “Then ye can escape, although no one's done it ‘round here since young Orpheus came by.”Emma dropped the peach. Mind racing, she tried to recall every story she’d heard about the underworld. Wasn’t there something about a music contest? A song on a fiddle of gold to bargain for her soul? She had no idea how to play one though, and Hell seemed an unlikely place to get music lessons.She started pacing. Wrapped up in her thoughts, Emma didn’t see the tiny demons staggering under the weight of a wooden crate until she crashed right into them.“Klutz!” one shouted.“Sorry.” Emma bent down to help, shoveling the spilled contents back into their box.“You’ll bruise them!” snapped the demon, pulling the crate away from her.Emma looked down at the object in her hand. It was a peach; ripe and fuzzy. She looked at the crate.“California peaches?” she read in wonder.“Where do you expect them to come from?” scoffed the tiny demon as the others began handing fruit to the trees, their branches extending like fingers to receive the peaches.The beginnings of an idea sparked in Emma’s mind. Not even plants like to grow in Hell. She quickly made sure no one was watching and slipped the peach into her pocket, casually strolling away.As soon as Emma was out of sight, she began prying fruit from the pit. Once cleaned, she carefully chose a spot and buried it in the ashy soil.“Now it needs something to drink,” she said to herself. Thinking about it, Emma knew she wouldn’t be able to get any of the water from Tantalus’ puddle. It probably wasn’t even liquid; just a very convincing illusion. Any water in Hell would’ve evaporated long ago.So, time for the next best thing. Emma picked up a sharp piece of volcanic glass and bracing herself, quickly slashed the back of her arm. A few drops of blood fell onto the mound of dirt.Almost at once a green shoot sprouted, quickly growing limbs and bark. Unlike the soot-darkened trees native to hell, this was a California peach tree, with smooth bark horizontally striped. A tree that would surely want to return to its native soil, by any means available.“Hello there,” said Emma, because she’d once read something on the benefits of talking to plants. “My name’s Emma Olson; I’m your friend.”The tree seemed touched that it already had a friend so early in its life. Its leaves made a happy little rustling noise.“You want to grow big and strong, don’t you?” Again, the tree rustled. “You need sunlight to do that. A pity there isn’t any here.”The tree drooped sadly.“Do you know California?” asked Emma hurriedly, before it completely lost confidence. “Could you stretch all the way there if you tried?”The tree considered this a moment. Then shook its leaves in what Emma assumed was the affirmative.“Can you take me with you?”The tree bent gracefully, allowing Emma to find a seat in its branches. She clung to the trunk tightly as they straightened.“Let’s go!”The little fruit tree shot upwards like a missile, growing broader and taller with every moment. It drew the attention of the tiny demons, who grew even smaller in the distance. Too late did they discover their prisoner’s escape. Emma grinned, then immediately spluttered on a mouthful of dirt as the tree forced its way through Hell’s rocky ceiling. Shielding her face with an arm, Emma could see the sunlight peeking through layers of earth.Suddenly, she pulled herself out of the ground. Rich, black soil crumbled around her. Behind, the tree kept growing until it matched the others around it, spreading out under the sun and shaking the last remnants of Hell from its leaves.She smiled. Hell would have to wait another day to claim Emma Olson.“Great job,” said Emma to her tree, which rustled in the orchard wind.Brushing off her clothes as best she could, Emma leaned back against its trunk. She sighed and closed her eyes against the afternoon sun.It was going to be a long walk home.