Mary's Apples

MARY'S APPLES That rag-tag and bob-tail over at the other side of the valley can't keep outta grief. That Mary's done it this time, gone and broke her leg chasing after one of Sudie's younguns. Serves her right, old witch, always yelling when they come by her house. Like she was God of Brasstown. Don't want nothin' or nobody touching what's hers. She acts like every stick she owns is the Ark of the Covenant—and she'll be struck dead one day for blasphemy, she will. Her apples, indeed! Like God made Eden just for her, and Sudie's pore younguns weren't to come near it. Just because she come here first, she thinks that every spoonful of earth from Double Knob to Raven Cliffs was made for her benefit! You'd think that line from the thunderstruck oak to Corn Creek was drawed by Moses with a golden stick to keep the rest of us from crossing to the upper gap. Why, just the other day, I seen her beating Lymon Shockley's pig because he sniffed her steps and nosed around her tree. And then chewed Lymon out—for owning a pig! I swear, I just can't get nothin' done for watching what she does! —Bettie Sellers 51 ...