The Fruit Picker

by Bea Eschen

  “I won’t be gone forever,” he tried to console her.

  ”I have a different feeling about that. You are not made for this world here. Follow your path, my dear Sebastian, and don’t look back.”

  She turned and walked away, shaking with sobs. He looked after her until she disappeared behind the next bend. For the first time after his decision to leave he felt a strange emptiness in his heart that stayed with him for a long, long time.

  His parents gasped in disbelief when he broke the news. He had waited until three days before his departure. In his mind the short notice would lessen the pressure that would mount on him.

  “But what about your theology degree?”

  “Who said I want to study theology?”

  “It’s what we have planned for you since you were born!”

  “Exactly. That has always been your mistake. Making plans for me.”

  “But we only mean good for you, boy!”

  “Will you stop calling me boy? Damn, I am twenty and really no boy anymore!”

  “Really, Sebastian,” his mother said desperately, “you don’t know Australia, how will you survive there? You have no overseas experience, nor life experience!”

  “Well, that’s my problem, not yours, mother. For sure I will be happier once I get out of here, where no one understands me.”

  “Please give us a chance to understand you.” His father pleaded.

  “You’ve missed your chance. You had twenty years to understand me, but failed.”

  “At least you could have discussed it with us,” his mother said. She was giving up as she knew her son’s stubbornness.

  “But when are you coming back?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know, but my visa is valid for six months.”

  His mother seemed to relax.

  “It is open for extension though,” he added without feeling.

  There was disbelief and shock. Everyone got up midway through their traditional Sunday roast and dispersed.

  When the day of departure finally came, his parents handed their son a farewell necklace of pure silver with a cross as a pendant. The cross was made beautifully with lot of detail, and it looked very old. The face of the crucified Jesus expressed sorrow and pain. Blood flowed from his wounds and down his body. Sebastian was impressed with this special gift. Even though he had left the church, he wore the necklace around his neck under his shirt.

  Down Under

  “This is where you stay,” said Jessica, who introduced herself as Sebastian’s work colleague and team leader. The size of the room Sebastian was to share with two other guys impressed him. A huge suspended ceiling fan was producing pleasant air circulation that made the entire room feel cool.

  “Which one is my bed?”

  “You are the first, it’s your choice!”

  Sebastian took the bed under one of the two windows in the room. Because the bed was tucked into a recess, it would give him privacy. He preferred to sleep near an open window because it made him feel less anxious. Looking out he saw a large part of the orchard. Two thousand three hundred mango trees spread over an area of fifty acres. The trees were growing in rows about ten meters apart. The land had an odd shape and in the distance Sebastian noticed the trees spreading out randomly.

  Now that he was in a new country, a new place with new work and new people he was feeling a little uneasy. He was tired from the long flight − it had taken him thirty-eight hours from the time he left home until he got to the orchard. On arrival he found the heat and wind exhilarating but after the long drive from the airport to the orchard on a dusty gravel road he felt sweaty and was starving. All he needed now was to get out of his tight jeans, have a shower and then something to eat.

  The friendly welcome on his arrival at the orchard’s fruit picker accommodation touched him. Jessica was waiting on the veranda with a glass of chilled mango juice for him. Sebastian gulped it feeling the cool liquid going down his dry throat. For a moment he thought of Magda and him drinking the cold champagne under the big oak tree that had a similar effect on his throat. In fact, Jessica was looking like Magda. She was short and had blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Dressed in denim shorts, a loose white T-shirt and flip-flops she almost looked childlike. She attempted to speak clearly, but Sebastian still had to listen carefully to understand her.

  “You must have welcomed many of my kind before,” Sebastian said.

  “Not too many,” she laughed, “but I know my Aussie accent is unique!”

  Jessica left Sebastian to check out the accommodation on his own. It was a three-level house and he found it pleasant to walk bare feet on the cool wooden floors. He smelled fresh paint as the place had been newly painted. The house appeared bright and sunny with windows everywhere, each offering Sebastian a different view of the orchard. There were six bedrooms and two bathrooms distributed on the upper two floors. On the ground floor were two spacious living rooms and a clean kitchen. Sebastian was delighted to find table tennis equipment and a billiard table in one of the lounge rooms, since he liked to play both games since his childhood. Again he remembered Magda, how she fought against him at the table tennis and always lost, but she bore it with dignity because she liked to give him the prize.

  Four comfortable lounge chairs in a cozy reading corner with bookshelves invited lazy evenings. The other wall was filled with two computers and a big television. I am glad I have my own laptop with me, Sebastian thought, as the computers looked out of date.

  The room attached to the kitchen had three dining tables with chairs and cabinets containing plates and cutlery, cups and glasses. An oversized double fridge filled one corner of the room. Each person had their own shelf already marked with names. Sebastian’s shelf was the top one. Now all he needed was to fill it with groceries – that is, if he found a supermarket in this remote place. A large timber veranda, built almost around the entire building, extended the area to an indoor/outdoor living space. More seating on the veranda made for enjoyable evenings outside. Everything looked appealing and Sebastian felt comfortable in his new home.

  In the afternoon Sebastian’s roommates arrived. Grant came straight from Johannesburg, South Africa, and Aaron from Israel. Everybody realised there was a clash between Grant and Aaron. Grant was tall and solidly built. He was Afrikaans, spoke in a loud deep voice and thought highly of himself. When Sebastian wanted to give him a handshake Grant ignored him and instead looked him up and down. Although Grant was courteous, he was arrogant and difficult to warm to so Sebastian took his usual approach of being helpful but keeping his distance. Aaron was of a light build, sensitive and shy. Aaron had a Jewish background, but it wasn’t important to him as he thought too much was made of religious differences. He focused on the humanity within the person. Sebastian liked him right from the start. He recognised himself in Aaron − subtlety, cautiousness, and restraint.

  The house filled with the other fruit pickers. They were a mixed group coming from all over the world − only two of them were Australian but they were still coming from far away. After a few days of getting to know each other, Sebastian and his roommates stuck together like a family unit. Aaron and Grant eventually went along without offending each other, and Sebastian felt like a link between them. They knew sticking together and teamwork was important to make them feel secure. Teamwork would also be expected from them when the harvest started. It was delayed by a week because, according to the owner of the farm, Mrs. Adelaide, the mangoes had not reached full maturity and needed another week to ripen. The newly arrived fruit pickers didn’t mind the extra time to acclimatise to the new environment.

  Sebastian and his mates went to the nearest town, Katherine, to check it out and buy groceries. Even though the town has a small population of ten thousand, it spread over a large area. In the city’s center they found a cinema, a small shopping mall with a Woolworths supermarket, and a hotel with a public bar. The group agreed they had to seal their friendship with a cold beer. As they walked into th
e tavern, the cool air-conditioned temperature was a pleasant shock. It was decorated like a typical old English pub. Dark stained woods on the furniture and walls, the interior was divided into small separated areas with cozy seating along the windows. Interesting decorations displayed on scattered shelves could inspire the odd bored guest. Sebastian was hit by the smell of the old, dark red and patterned carpet, which gave off an odor of a mixture of alcohol and cleaning detergent. The brightly lit counter with several beer taps and mirrors in the back was the center of attraction. Bottles containing all sorts of alcoholic beverages were lined up in front of the mirror, giving an impression of a much larger choice than there really was. The three men went straight to the counter and sat down on the barstools with Sebastian in the middle. Hot, sweaty and thirsty they drank their beers fast. Aaron was slurring his words already after half a glass. He was not the steady drinker like Grant, who downed two pints within one hour and was still talking straight. Sebastian was happy with one pint that made him feel tipsy. He wondered about the sport scenes on three big television sets that were attached to the walls at different angles. After he watched for a while he discovered that it was rugby. It would be more interesting to watch soccer now, he thought. Aaron also noticed the rugby and made a rude comment.

  “If you ask me the point of going for a drink is to talk and not stare into a television.”

  “No,” Grant replied quickly, “you go in a pub to watch rugby and get pissed together with your mates.”

  Grant knew what the rugby was about and explained that the scenes were from the 2015 world cup final between the All Blacks and the Wallabies. “The All Blacks won the cup, the Wallabies got second and the Springboks third.”

  “Who are the All Blacks, Wallabies and Springboks?” Aaron asked.

  “Oh man!” Grant shook his head over so much ignorance.

  “The Wallabies is the Australian rugby team, the Springboks is the South-African, and the All Blacks are the Kiwis.”

  When they got out into the heat, the combination of the heat and alcohol hit them hard. Sebastian was feeling dizzy and Aaron was tottering along.

  In the supermarket they took their time to check out the products. While Aaron had a problem finding the ingredients to make Falafel, Sebastian couldn’t find the bread he knew. Having baked tasty German sourdough bread with crunchy dark crusts for years he had become fussy about it. In the end he went for sliced Toast bread with grains. There was only one alternative; sliced toast bread without grains − white and soft and tasteless. Grant didn’t have any issue finding his groceries and couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. He stocked up on plenty of bacon, eggs, baked beans and white bread.

  At the checkout they saw an aboriginal man. Sebastian had seen aboriginal people before in pictures but had never stood next to one in real life. He tried not to stare but couldn’t help himself. He had never imagined how broad-featured they were. This man had deeply setback black eyes protruded by bushy eyebrows, a broad nose and full lips surrounded by a wild beard. His hair was uncombed and marked by bleached streaks. He had very thin legs that stuck out under oversized shorts. After he paid for a packet of cigarettes, the man left in a hurry.

  The three looked after him. The checkout lady smiled.

  “Just arrived, have you?”

  “Yes, first time we have come to town.”

  “You’ve got to go to Nitmiluk before you start picking,” she said, all knowing.

  “What’s there to see?” Grant asked with a rude tone in his voice.

  “Well, if you want to learn a bit about Aboriginal culture − this is the place to go.”

  “Thanks for the tip!” Sebastian said cheerfully, making up for Grant’s stupid question.

  Outside in the heat Grant proclaimed loudly,

  “I really don’t need to see the culture of these monkey people.”

  A cold shiver went down Sebastian’s back.

  Aaron shrieked with disgust. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know the Aborigines are the oldest known people on earth?” Sebastian said.

  “I couldn’t care less. They look like apes, you agree don’t you?”

  “No I don’t.” Sebastian said calmly. “And you should have educated yourself better about what to expect from this country before you got here.”

  Grant turned and walked away.

  “Is it the alcohol or is that Grant speaking?” Aaron asked visibly shaken.

  “Think where he comes from,” Sebastian said. “South Africa has racism creeping through its generations. Apartheid happened not that long ago.”

  Aaron was thinking while they were walking to the bus stop.

  “We don’t have a problem, Sebastian. You are German and I am Jewish, but what happened in history is not our fault nor would I ever put any blame on you. We are several generations away from the holocaust. There comes a time when people have to get over what happened in their historical past otherwise their past will haunt them.”

  “I know, and I am glad you are bringing this up, Aaron. I somewhat expect to be associated with Germany’s past in other parts of the world. But people forget Hitler and the Nazis were radicalised people if you put it into today’s terms.”

  After a pause he continued. “It was then like today. Politicians do not represent the majority of the population. Just look at what’s happening in Europe with the EU, in Syria with ISIS or in Israel with the Palestinians. It is disgusting. I put them all in the same pot of the radicalised, yes, politicians and the terrorists. They talk of democratic values but where have they gone? I better not start with the lying press otherwise I will still be talking tomorrow!”

  “One day I want to marry and have a family,” Aaron said. “It is almost scary to think of the future. But here and now I wish to have a break from my worries back at home.”

  “Me too.” Sebastian couldn’t agree more.

  Back at the orchard Grant pretended as if nothing had happened. He was back to his courteous behavior. The next day he apologized for being an idiot. He decided not to join Sebastian and Aaron to Nitmiluk National Park though, because he said he was feeling tired.

  After a very bumpy bus ride they arrived at the drop-off point of the Park’s entrance. Sebastian and Aaron set out to see Katherine Gorge, a rocky landscape with gorges, rivers, caves and waterfalls. They walked along a stony trek and found the most beautiful aboriginal rock art on the way. Thousands of years ago, Aborigines had engraved and painted kangaroos, stick people called mimis, and aboriginal men with spears hunting huge birds on rock outcrops and surfaces. These artworks were still visible but were on the brink of disappearing. Many of them were fitted with protection to stop vandalism and deterioration resulting from climatic influences and other damage. There were signs explaining the symbols and creatures in the artworks and the importance of them in aboriginal culture. Groups of tourists joined them on the way, stopping here and there to absorb the beauty of the park. A rocky landscape surrounded the amazing gorge, and the winding river had crystal clear water. By lunchtime they were hungry and stopped at a picnic site, which was also a crocodile management zone and open for swimming. It was in the shade of a big tree with huge sideway branches covered in dense leaves that rustled in the gentle breeze. The river nearby added to the coolness, and the rippling of the water provided a pleasant background noise.

  “This is like paradise!” Sebastian exclaimed excitedly.

  “And these are even better than paradise!”

  Aaron exclaimed and pulled six kebabs out of his backpack, which he had lovingly prepared the night before. Sebastian provided salad, bread and juice. They ate sitting on the rocks next to the river while they told each other stories from their childhood. Then it was time for a swim in the cool water. They emerged fresh and clean but in their enthusiasm forgot the time. Their bus back to the orchard was leaving in one hour so they ran along the stony path. The last rays of the late afternoon sun pierced through the bush creating mottled
shady patterns in front of them. They hopped over the stony obstacles, cheerful like children, and they reached their ready-to-leave bus out of breath. Happy and exhausted, they leaned back in their seats. It had been a day full of enjoyable experiences that they would never forget.

  Mango Harvest

  “We are picking the mangos with their stems on, the safest way to avoid fruit damage,” Jessica explained, trying hard to speak clearly.

  “The priority in mango picking is to prevent the spurt sap from getting in contact with the skin of the fruit. The spurt sap that oozes out once the stems are removed causes skin browning and reduces the sale price.”

  They were standing somewhere in the middle of the orchard in between rows of at least twenty meter high mango trees. With no breeze the heat was almost unbearable. The team of six fruit pickers had been told to wear hats, gloves, closed shoes and to cover up with long pants and long-sleeved shirts to protect them from the sun and the mango sap, which could cause nasty skin irritations on humans too. They felt their sweat running down their backs but agreed that they preferred sweat to sunburn or rashes. Sebastian, Aaron and Grant were in one team with the girls from the bedroom above theirs.

  Grant looked increasingly unhappy, as he was trying to flirt with one girl, Xing Li, who was Chinese and extremely shy. Constantly he winked at her, then he stood next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. Startled, she took a step away from him. She was embarrassed about Grant’s advances in the middle of the fruit plantation during their induction.

  “Listen carefully everybody!” Jessica said with a slightly raised voice towards Grant. Grant stiffened, as he understood Jessica meant him.

  “So, cut the mangoes with ten centimeter stems attached. You can use secateurs and picking sticks to get to the higher ones.”

  Jessica showed how to use the secateurs to cut the fruit carrying stems off the remaining branches. She also showed how to use the picking stick but because she was short even the picking stick wasn’t long enough to reach to the top of the tree. They laughed, and Grant, with a great deal of pompousness, came to her aid. While he put his hand on Jessica’s to take the picking stick off her, he pushed himself onto her.