every crumb as I walked across it. I hurriedly trudged on to the kitchen, hoping it would be nicer, brighter, and cleaner. The kitchen was half the size of the living room, like a large walk-in closet. My mother was putting away the various cans in a small cupboard over a rusted sink and wood counter. An oven that seemed as though it had been through a meteor attack( it was so banged up) sat stoutly next to a mini fridge. An oxidized stove perched on top of the oven. A bowl of apples sat on a round table that had two chairs around it. It smelled like onions and rotten eggs and an unpleasant odor I could not name. I gripped the can I was holding, feeling the cold metal and the thin ridges that wrapped around it beneath the crinkly wrapper, and handed it to my mother, who cautiously stacked it on the second shelf. I assume Mr. Stein had tried to help, but my mother shooed him away. Noah sat at the table with Mr. Stein, bombarding him with questions about Rosh Hashanah.“ What’ s Rosh Hashanah?” Noah questioned“ Well,” Mr. Stein replied,“ it’ s the New Year.”“ I thought the New Year was in January....” At this my mother started to bark. One question was okay, but two?“ Noah!” she practically howled,“ Stop that rude behavior at once and help me put away cans!” My brother somberly started to get up but was stopped by Mr. Stein.“ No, no Sonny,” he purred as he turned toward my mother.“ Really, it’ s fine,” he said as he saw her exasperated look.“ I haven’ t had a young voice peppering me with questions for a long time.”
Noah immediately took advantage of the situation of nobody telling him to shut up.“ So, do you know any good stories?‘ Cause I don’ t. My dad tells stories from when he was little, but I don’ t think they ' re real....”
I interrupted,“ Done!” I was thrilled. I couldn’ t wait to be out of this apartment, where it felt like huge dust bunnies were lurking around every corner....
“ That’ s the last can, bag, and tin,” Mama agreed, rummaging through the bags to double check. I grabbed one of the bag’ s handles, propping my elbow up on the counter in order to reach. Once the bag was firmly clasped in my hands, I noticed some lint and dust on my elbows. I wrinkled my nose. Gross, I thought, doesn’ t this guy know how to clean?
My family slowly started to file out of his kitchen and into his living room, gathering gloves and coats on the way.
“ I’ d like to thank you all for coming today...” Mr. Stein started,“ Oh! I almost forgot!” And with that he turned on his heel and ambled slowly back into the kitchen. He came back carrying two apples.“ Red delicious,” he murmured,“ a token of my gratitude.” He placed one in my brother’ s hands.“ Thanks Sonny, for talking to me today.” Noah mutely nodded, stunned that his chattiness was appreciated. Then he handed one to me. The skin of the apple was cool and sort of misty, and it had a tangy, zesty, juicy scent that reminded me of an orchard. I knew at once that this apple was from his fridge, not the bowl on the table“ And thank you, little lady, for coming today and bring some wonderful goodies for me.”
I was stunned. Why would he give me this? I wondered. Is it a trade for the cans? Why would he care about trading for some crummy old cans. I had to know. The seven year old curiosity is too strong sometimes, no matter how rude.“ Why?” I asked“ Why, what?” Mr. Stein pryed.“ Why did you give me the apple?”