The Fruit Roll

            Fruit roll was scheduled to occur this day in 1968 at Oakland Elementary School in Cambridge at exactly 2:47 p.m., just after returning inside from final recess.  This was a perfect time since the excitement might carry us through to the end of the day at 3:24 p.m., completely thwarting any attempts of bringing the class around to any work.  And this third grade joint was off the hizook for fruit roll.  We came to school that morning with our piece of fruit and did nothing but finger it all day with our sweaty hands, checking it a hundred times to be sure it was still nestled in our flip-top desk between the pencil shavings and sunflower seeds.  Grapefruits got slammed and pressure juiced all day from the sloping desks.  All of us stewed in our hyper-giggle, that smile that your parents never really want when they say, ‘big smile now’.  

            The fruit roll was a sort of pragmatic socialist attempt at a fruit basket whereby children bring a round piece of fruit or a can of fruit and roll it forward through the aisles to teacher at an agreed upon roll cue.  It was an extra special event, never employed more than once a year.  Oranges and grapefruit were obvious fruit roll choices but children also brought unfortunate choices such as apples, plums, peaches and cantaloupe.  Canned fruit was also roll-able and acceptable for those children from across the tracks who lacked the fresh option. 

            Mrs. Drusedow, looking exactly how you might imagine, was not expecting fruit roll today but did notice the class was not typically exhausted from playing at final recess on playground equipment that I truly don’t know how anyone survived.  As everyone took their seat and waited to exhale, Tommy shot a stern look back at Billie Jo, reminding her to roll it underhand to the front.  She lived in a home and had anger issues.  The signal was given, “One two three, Roll!”

            Roll had commenced.  Now you have a picture of this fruit rolling mindfully and in some order to the front, where a delighted teacher looks on, but it does not happen that way.  The canned fruit starts strong but then veers one way or another.  Apples go off under children’s rusty desk legs and hit their muddy shoes and must be re-rolled again and again, each time earning another three feet towards the front of the room.  Oranges roll so well they slam into the front wall and start their bruised journey back again (Billie Jo).  There were no germs in 1968 and no five-second rule, there was only playground cinders, dirt, mice turds, asbestos debris, dehydrated boogers and lead paint chips, all forming a exponential protective crust on the fruit as it made it’s way to the target.  And from all of the screaming and laughing and the look on all of our faces, you’d think we’d just chipped in and bought that broad a new Lexus.

            But like the ginormous prize check that looks great in the newspaper photo, the one you never seem to see getting endorsed and cashed at the bank the next day, all magical things, like sunrise, must come to an end, and the business of Mrs. Drusedow picking up one-by-one these fruit remains and being ‘cordially gracious’ was not a thing to be witnessed.  Mrs. Drusedow was an army tank in a house dress.  She was of advanced years with only a limited number of bend-overs left in her.  She leaned over for one or two pieces, when, like a flock of birds suddenly changing direction, we collectively and simultaneously realized that seeing the fat on the back of her knees and the belts that were ‘holding’ her epically failing stockings was the opposite of the joy of fruit roll, fundamentally wrong, as if we callously opened the Arc of the Covenant, and so we jumped up, and scrambled to assist in the gathering of the fruit.   

the succulent and unmet expectation.

            Whatever became of the fruit is a mystery.  In the eight year old mind, the biodiverse basket is enjoyed piece-by glorious piece for each month of the year, never rotting, never consumed without a thought of the angelic child responsible for giving it.  In reality—well let’s not go there, shall we?  The fruit roll may have been only in Cambridge, only in the late 60’s and only at Oakland Elementary School.  The fruit roll was sunrise.  Merry Christmas everyone, and good health to all.  Have a piece of fruit.