[How the Juniper Changes] [Botany] [Conifer] [Bush] [Short Story]

[How the Juniper Changes] [Botany] [Conifer] [Bush] [Short Story]

You think you understand something when you’re a kid, but things change. Well, I’m still a kid. I’m still Fyodor Gennady of the Petya Asteroid. I still don’t really know what an asteroid is. I still don’t know why every farmer seems to have Gennady as a last name. I know Mom wanted me to have compassion, so I got the name, Fyodor. But, its ok if I don’t know. Well, I thought so before. I know I still like oranges but … well, I guess the juniper berries grew on me. Well, that’s as good as any place to start.

So many months ago, we went to church. The Friar is Ivan, and his name means gift from God. As a man of holy cloth, he wants to live his namesake. When we travel to church, we enter a massive greenhouse with glass panels larger than me. Some have etched images of the stories, and it feels good to rub, but only when mom aint’ looking. Well, we are a smaller group, and half the time you sitting next to herbs or some trees in a container. It was the last week for the little orange trees. After the service, he gathered some of his fruit, his juniper berries, and the last of his oranges and handed them out to us, the kids. We lined up to get a few oranges for the family. Father said that we needed a basket of those juniper berries. When it was my turn, he gave me the juniper berries and six oranges. The first five regular oranges were in a basket. The sixth one, he put into my hand.  

“It’s the end of the blood oranges Fyodor.” The friar said. “It’s also the start of Juniper Berries.” 

My face back then wrinkled up. I never was a fan of the flavor. It flavored the tea, the reindeer jerky, even the chickens we raised. 

“Whether you like it or not, winter is coming.” Friar Ivan said. “You will need the berries like everyone else.” He knelt and whispered, “But the blood orange, you could eat it, but the juice makes a wonderful juniper citrus tea. The peel zested goes well for chicken. You could eat it now or eat it for a season.” 

Back then, I kind of thought about it. I brought the five oranges to Father but kept the blood orange. Maybe I hid it. Maybe Father knew. For whatever reason, I hid the orange under my pillow for three days. Each of those three days was horrible. The fruit only got sweeter and sweeter smelling, and I love blood oranges. It’s like eating an orange, a grapefruit, and cherries together. Every night, the smell would grab my nose. Every time I breathed in, the scent would slap me awake. After three nights of dreaming of oranges, I could not take it anymore. I flung my pillow aside and ate the entire thing. I did not peel the blood orange. I bit into the peel like a cherry skin and ate everything. I remember it being the greatest orange I ever had and having no flavor. Sure, that moment felt amazing. I could taste it in my nose. The flavor hug for my tongue lasted all night until I fell asleep. I licked my hands clean. Yet, I ate so fast. I normally eat these things slice by slice. It was gone right away. The hollow feeling I had after it all sucked. 

Mom said that this year she wanted to save the oranges. So instead of eating oranges on the first day of winter. We had to help her work the fruit. She would peel off the peel with a large knife, leaving the white stuff on the good stuff. She then peeled off what she called the pith into strips. I remember me and dad were unhappy that we could not even have a slice. Mom even slapped Dad’s hand away. Yet throughout last winter, we had oranges. At least once a week for four months, we had a taste. When our chickens were getting too old and became soup, we had orange zest. Sometimes the juniper tea would be sweetened with a spoonful of orange jelly. When the coldest winter nights gave us Christmas, we had candied orange peel with that juniper berry reindeer roast. The juniper got boring, but it was not bad as it was other years. I kept thinking. I had one night. She had an entire season. That thought kept hitting my mind all through winter and into spring. 

Well, It’s now spring. Friar Ivan is preaching again. Some plants are dying back. Others were just starting to grow. Some of his early fruiting oranges were ripe. We were sitting next to a dormant grapevine. After the service, he picked many of the first fruits and gave some to the kids. This time he gave the last of the Juniper berries and the first of many oranges. 

My friends were all talking about how they ate their oranges right away. How they hated eating juniper berry tea and juniper berry meat. It was the bitter blueberry. The teenagers had choice words to say, words you could not say in a holy greenhouse. I was among the last in line, and I saw my friends eat the oranges. It was my turn. He gave me the basket. 

Friar Ivan said, “Here is the last of this year’s juniper berries and the first of the oranges. You can eat it now or eat it for a season.” 

I grabbed one of the oranges and stared at it for a moment. Back then, I just wanted to enjoy the orange. As I walked back to my parents, I still didn’t know what I am feeling right now. In a weird way, something is changing, and it feels like things need to change even more. I handed the basket to my father. 

I then asked him, “Father, what is an asteroid?” 

If you are still listening, feel free to like this work. Visit my website or subscribestar. I do videos on youtube and Rumble. Feel free to buy my book, The Lost Soul of Scholastic Study. I am J. J. Bartel, Author, Botanist, Historian and Gamer and until next time lets cultivate some greatness.