At his stand Tom made half-hearted offers to passerby’s at five cents an apple. But he knew it didn’t matter if he stood on his head and juggled the fruits, no one was going to buy them.
He shook his head. He had had known all along.
Had it been a month before, he could have sold all 20 crates of apples and made enough money to make it through the winter single handed.
With fall harvest in full swing everyone in Seattle wanted a fair chance to make a few extra dollars and they all lined the streets to sell apples hoping for the same good fortune as Anne, Sylvia and the children. With so many unemployed the supply for “charity apples” far out weighed the demand and the city was left reminded of the fundamental cruelties of capitalism.
By the end of the day, they pooled their money together and had only $ 2.85 between the seven stands. Just shy of selling one of the 20 crates they had, they had barely sold enough to give them reason to go at it the following day.
Earnest as Anne was and as desperate as Sylvia fought being perceived, it was no use…their apples simply did not sell.
Though the girls dressed in their finest dresses their luck was the same as Toms.
Ever hopeful, Sylvia announced “we’ll just have at it again tomorrow and the day after if we have to!”
Tom moaned, “At this rate, we’d be lucky to sell them before they rot!”
In that moment it occurred to Sylvia that they only had a small window of time to sell the apples before they went bad. The thought had never crossed her mind that the apples would not sell... or rot.
Anne shot Sylvia a glance and immediately after the young ones were put to bed they convened for a “plan B” meeting.
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