Theresa Lewis

When I was newly married, I spent my summer vacation with my in-laws in their summer home, in the countryside. I’m not sure what was going on in my life at that time, but I remember that for some reason I had developed stomach ulcers. Back in those days, the treatment for ulcers was considerably different from what it is today. I recall being instructed to remove the skin and seeds from all fruit and vegetables.

 

Being a bit on the lazy side, the task of skinning fruit and veggies and cutting out the seeds, limited my consumption of many fruits that I loved, such as grapes. I just didn’t have the will to sit still and peel grapes and dig out the seeds. It was the same for cucumbers, tomatoes, and many others. The mere thought of peeling blueberries and picking out the seeds seemed an insane task to me. It was more bother than it was worth, but I missed all the summer berries, the grapes and even the tomato sandwiches.

 

One day, a neighbor popped by and gave my mother-in-law a huge basket of Damson plums. Since the fridge was too full, she placed the basket on the dining room table. Every time I had to use the washroom, I had to pass that basket of plums. I tried my best to ignore them because I desperately wanted one. One night I noticed that there were only a few left as the family had been eating them.

 

I had spotted a tiny plum and I stared at it, imagining how good it would taste. I wanted it in the worst way. In a moment of utter weakness, I convinced myself that even if it made me sick, it probably wouldn’t kill me to eat just one tiny plum.

 

The family knew of my ulcers and the fact that I had to peel and remove the seeds from every fruit and vegetable that I ate. They watched me like a hawk. However, since no one was around at the moment that I was staring at that tiny plum, I snatched it up and popped it in my mouth.

 

The plum flesh usually sticks to the seed in the center, but I noticed that the inside of the plum was too soft and the pit was free-floating. I looked in the bathroom mirror and stuck my tongue out to see why it was so mushy. To my utter horror, I had a mouthful of maggots.

I hacked and I spit for a good ten minutes as I cried silently to myself. I know I went ‘plum crazy’. I grabbed my toothbrush and scrubbed every square inch of my teeth and mouth tissues. In my frenzied state, I imagined that I had swallowed some of the critters. That thought caused me to vomit. What a dreadful ordeal that was. To this very day, many decades later, I have never eaten another Damson plum in any form. I cannot even look at them. I now have the habit of cutting fruit open, no matter what kind it is, before putting any of it into my mouth.

 

THE END