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Payton.

2. The Garden of Eatin’
    I’m not one to point fingers, but there’s nobody to blame except Adam for bringing pain into the world. And it makes sense to me that it was his eating of forbidden fruit that did it. You see, Walter and I endured our fair share of wrath and pain from a little ol’ “forbidden” fruit known as the plum. The plums I’m talking about weren’t growing in the Garden of Eden, of course, and they weren’t declared “forbidden” by God. Still, they were in Reverend Hendricks’ garden, and Reverend Hendricks was, as should be obvious by my calling him “Reverend,” a man of God. So, there you go.
    Now, Reverend Hendricks wasn’t just a man of God. He was also a sourpuss. He didn’t really speak much, unless he was speaking the Word…then he could get going, that’s for sure. He’d mind his own business for the most part, and his physical presence wasn’t much more imposing than his personality. He was a thin man of average height with a quiet manner and a noticeable limp. Of course, looks can be deceiving, and he was tougher than he appeared. Walter and I may’ve even used the word “mean” a time or two to describe him. Some have the fear of God in them, but we had the fear of Reverend Hendricks in us early on.
    Reverend Hendricks lived in a big wood-framed house in the middle of our street, right across the road from our aunt’s house. Two wooded vacant lots divided Reverend Hendricks’ house and Miss Willie Mae’s house, so you can imagine all the little feet that explored those woods over the years, seeking mischief and whatnot. A well-worn path snaked through the two vacant lots and connected our street to the next street over. Then another path forked like a venomous tongue off the main trail and led straight to Reverend Hendricks’ garden.
    That garden was the Reverend’s favorite thing in the world. And his favorite thing in his favorite thing in the world was a row of lush plum trees, full of fruit. Such good-lookin’ fruit, too. I knew I wasn’t supposed to touch or taste, but every time I saw those plums as a kid, I just couldn’t help but think about sinking my teeth into them…all of them. Right and wrong didn’t seem to matter much. Neither did punishment. It was nine-year-old Walter, called “Bubba” at the time, and 12-year-old me, called “Edward Charles,” up against that Serpent hissing in the trees, and we weren’t trying real hard to fight the temptation. We were plum poachin’.
    A four-foot-high chain-link fence surrounded the “Garden of Eatin’.” Not quite cherubim and a flaming sword, but it was an obstacle nonetheless. In the middle of the garden were the finest plum trees you’ll ever lay eyes on, so it didn’t take long to see the “obstacle” as more of an obstacle course. You know, more fun than work. The diamond pattern wire of the fence was perfect for little barefooted brothers to grasp and climb right over.
    In addition to plums, Reverend Hendricks raised green veggie things in his garden on the end flanking the path…and sunflowers, okra, tomatoes, and other unknown (at least to us kids) veggies and such. But the plums were what we had our eyes on. They were the objects of our desire, no doubt. Those big, ripe, yellowish-red plums might as well have been the apple that tempted Adam in the Garden of Eden. I mean, I know exactly what he was feeling. And I must admit that had I been there in the Garden of Eden, it would have probably been Edward Charles that brought pain into the world. And I even think I had it worse than Adam. I’d gotten a taste (legitimately) of those plums a time or two before, when the Reverend’s wife had brought some to the house. I’m sure that made my will that much weaker than Adam’s. Those plums were just plain delicious.
    The taste of those plums from a week earlier was still in our mouths, and we had images of Reverend Hendricks’ forbidden plums dancing in our heads. Of course,