The Apple That Would Not Stop Turning- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

"Pass me the basket," Joy called.

Felix slid the light wicker frame along the grass, its rim brushing the ladder with a dry scrape that mixed with the constant hiss of leaves overhead. She had wedged the ladder carefully before climbing, yet a muffled squelch rose when one foot sank into a damp pocket of soil. The trunk answered with a hollow knock as she steadied herself, and a grey squirrel, startled by the jolt, skittered across the branch. Two apples broke free; they drummed against the rung, rolled together, and thumped into the nearly full basket. "Frustration," Felix muttered—then the quiet snapped again as Wren at the gate shook a paper leaflet, its corners flapping like a loose shingle.

The brittle rustle of that leaflet turned Joy’s head. Wren’s voice carried between rows, so Joy stepped down, boots crunching last year’s driftwood chips spread near the hedgerow. She listened to the instructions—new rows were ready, weights would soon be tallied by the bronze sundial beside the sorting table—then hurried back. In her short absence, time had rearranged everything: the soft ground had tilted the ladder farther, the branch kept wagging, and a fresh apple lay split near an aspen sapling, its broken skin oozing quietly. If she had noticed the soft patch sooner, the ladder would have stayed level.

Joy knelt, slid a flat piece of driftwood beneath the deepest rung, and the wobble faded to a faint tremor. An apple still circling near the basket rim tapped out the last beats of the chain, but the driftwood barrier stopped it from diving onto the grass. She and Felix lifted bruised fruit to the correct section while the robin in the bramble chittered above their heads. One unmarked apple, balanced on a tilted rung, kept rotating slowly toward the trunk, marking each half turn with a gentle brush against rough bark.

「把籃子遞給我。」喬伊喊道。

費利克斯把輕巧的柳條籃沿著草地推過去，籃框輕擦梯子邊緣，發出乾澀的沙沙聲，與頭頂樹葉持續的嘶嘶聲交織。她在攀爬前小心地固定好梯子，但當一隻腳陷入潮濕的土坑時，悶悶的啪嗒聲響起。樹幹被她扶正時發出空洞的咚響，一隻灰松鼠被震動驚到，在枝條上疾跑。兩顆蘋果脫枝，擊打橫檔，滾到一起，再砰地落進幾乎已滿的籃子。「真讓人挫敗。」費利克斯嘟囔——隨即，安靜又被打破，園門口的芹搖晃著一張傳單，紙角像鬆動瓦片般拍打。

那傳單脆響的沙沙聲引得喬伊轉頭。芹的喊聲在樹行間回蕩，喬伊只好踩著去年散在樹籬邊的漂木碎片返回。她聽取指示——新的樹行可以採摘，重量稍後要在太陽鐘旁統計——然後匆匆折回。在她短暫離開時，時間已經重新布置了一切：泥地讓梯子更斜，枝條仍在晃動，一顆新的蘋果裂在山楊樹苗旁，破皮正默默滲汁。要是她早察覺那片軟土，梯子本可以保持平穩。

喬伊跪下，把一塊平整的漂木塞到陷得最深的橫檔下，顫動只剩微弱的顫抖。一顆仍在籃邊打轉的蘋果敲出鏈條最後的節拍，但漂木擋住了它掉落草地的路。她與費利克斯把有瘀痕的果子歸到相應區域，樹籬上方的知更鳥叽叽啾啾。最後，一顆無傷的蘋果平衡在傾斜的橫檔上，慢慢朝樹幹旋去，每半圈都輕刷粗糙樹皮。