The fruit of Spain

Vi skulle skrive en tekst i engelsk, skrevet ligesom Ernest Hemingway ville, som skulle læses højt for klassen. Jeg fandt senere ud af, at vi kun skulle skrive en halv side med halvanden linjeafstand, jeg havde skrevet halvanden side med enkelt linjeafstand... Jeg fik aldrig læst den op, og da jeg er ret glad for den, så synes jeg ikke, at den skal gå til spilde. Jeg ved godt, at jeg har sagt, at jeg vil skrive om russeren, men det her passer lige så godt, så næste gang, det lover jeg.
Jeg håber, at I kan lide den.

The Fruit of Spain

A story, the Ernest Hemingway, way

The town of Olite, in the Basque country, is a small working town of no more than 40 families. It had been lying there for many years, silently sleeping. The church tower would ring every morning, but not to wake people up. Every day all the fathers would go to work, taking care of their families. When they got home, their wives would have made dinner, as they always did. It was a town were nothing seemed to change, but a few years ago the town finally woke up. It wasn't the church tower, for it had been laid to rest, only to peal on Sundays, no, it was the people itself.

Travelers had started traveling to the town, wanting to see how this small town was doing, what it was made of. Wanting to see some more of Spain. Amongst them was Edward A. Carter, and his traveling companion Oliver Law. They'd found Jorge, a small planter. He had allowed them to stay, if they were willing to help him gather the fruit, it was that time of year.
From their room, they could see Jorge working the fields.
“They've got a great nature here, don't you think Oliver?” Edward asked.
Carter, still looking down his newspaper, replied “It's quite alright, I guess.”
“But it's sad that he has to do so much of the work himself.”
“Hnn.. Well I don't...” He mumbled the rest with his nose down between the pages.
Edward walked over, and sat in the chair beside him, and looked over his shoulder “But I guess you're more interested in the news, aren't you?”
Carter looked up, and looked out the window “I just find them more... relevant at the time.”
“I'm going out to help him, if you don't mind.”
“Be my guest” Carter said, leafing through his paper.

The professor went outside their small room, and headed over to the plantation, where the planter was getting rid of some weeds. At the look of it, there was plenty of it. The sun was shining from a cloudless sky, making it uncomfortable for many. The professor stopped a few yards from Jorge, and waited for Jorge to notice him.
“Hola amigo! I see you've come out of your cave”
The professor replied “I thought it was about time, and on a hot day like this, what's the point of staying all bottled up?”
Jorge tried to dry of some of the dirt in his face, only to smear even more on. “I guess you're right, is the big guy coming out too?”
He laughed briefly “No, I think he's got some important things to take care of.”
“Too bad for him, hombre.”
The professor walked over to one of the trees, taking a closer look. “So, is it going to be a good harvest this year?”
Jorge also walked over to the tree “I hope so, I wouldn't mind it, you know. We haven't had this many fruits before, I mean, we did get some the past years, but amigo, this...”
“This is so much more.” He ended his sentence for him.
“Si, this is so much better, you want to taste one of them? They're not ripe, but they're close.”
“Sure.”

Edward plucked a big one, hanging near the top, even though it was harder to reach. He weighed it in his hand, it was a bit heavy for its size. The skin still looked a bit moist, as if the sun hadn't dried it completely. Jorge plucked one for himself, and they tried to make something that resembled a toast. He took a big bite, but spat it out again, and so did Jorge.

“I think mine is rotten, it sure looks as if it is.” He said, while trying to get rid of the taste.
Jorge threw his fruit away “Oh amigo, I think we picked a bad tree.”
The professor looked at the man, who was now checking the tree, cutting down other fruits, to see how they were.
“I really don't hope it goes for all of your trees, do you want me to help?”
Jorge continued his search for rotten fruits “No, just go inside again, I'll call you when the food is ready.”

The professor went inside again, and found his colleague still reading the same newspaper. He sat down in the chair opposite his colleague. Carter coughed, and dried of some of the sweat on his upper lip, when taking down his hand again. He didn't look up this time either
“Was it to hot for you out there?” He asked, and put his paper down into his bag.
“No, it was okay.” Edward replied, looking at his feet.
“Well, it's a bit cooler now. I hope the supper is ready soon, I'm starving, aren't you?”
“Not really, I got this bad taste in my mouth, if you know what I mean.”
Carter stood up “I know exactly what you're talking about, I always get this weird taste in my mouth after eating chili.”
“Yeah.” Edward stood up too, he could hear Jorge calling.
Carter smiled “Finally.”