Apple Jelly

I grew up in Brooklyn, New York. In the 6Th grade I went to P.S. 218. My best friend at the time was Janet. Janet lived in a single family home in a nice middle class neighborhood. I lived in an apartment building in a very bad, low income neighborhood. Janet wasn't allowed to come to my house. I think her parents thought her Irish looks might stand out too much in my predominately black and Latin neighborhood. One day at school Janet invited me to her house to make apple jelly. APPLE JELLY! I couldn't stop laughing. In my neighborhood no one even went to the store to purchase jelly much less make it from scratch. We did have welfare peanut butter that came in huge industrial looking cans. But jelly wasn't a food group the welfare department deemed necessary. After I picked myself up from the floor, I told Janet I would ask my parents. I ran home (not out of fear as was usually the case but out of excitement) to tell my parents. It took 3 days for my parents to stop laughing. Then they asked all the important questions ... where did they get these apples? stolen? purchased? (they must have money) When I said they picked the apples, my parents laughed for another 2 days, they thought only itinerant farm workers did that. Anyhow, so I get the OK to go make apple jelly. It was a new experience and my folks were all for my experiencing new things that didn't involve drugs or gang related activities.

On that fateful Saturday, my dad walked with me to the "line", that imaginary line that separated our neighborhoods. In my mind I can still clearly see my dad on the "dark" side as I stepped into the "light". As I looked for Janet's house I was amazed at the sight of this hood. It was nothing like mine. Single family homes, lawns, it all looked surreal. At Janet's house I started screaming her name, after all this was the "doorbell" in my part of town. Her mom came to the door looking a bit frightened and asked if I was OK. I gleefully announced I was there to make apple jelly.

Imagine my surprise when I stepped into Janet's house, it was just like stepping through the looking glass. They had matching furniture and it wasn't covered in plastic. They didn't have huge ceramic animal figurines and no sign of a religious alter, para todos los santos, including but not limited to the virgin Mary, the biggest Jesus on the cross you could afford and a candle lit for every single relative to have died. They did have a rosary hanging by the door. (they were Irish after all). They each had their own bedroom and slept one to a bed! The whole house was shiny. Light and airy even. When they opened the fridge to get the apples, I gasped in shock and bewilderment. It was filled, filled with food! All sorts of food. And not one thing was stamped "department of family services, FDA approved". Janet and her brother could help themselves to whatever they wanted, anytime they wanted! This was opulence the likes of which I didn't know existed.

Now back to the apple jelly, We all joined in the kitchen, apparently apple jelly making was a family affair. My heart was pounding and I broke out in a sweat. They laid all the apples on the counter as I looked around the kitchen for any signs of rats, or roaches. (That is what we did at my house) I am convinced this is what an out of the body experience must feel like. The conversation consisted mostly of them asking me stuff about where I lived and my family. Janet's mom didn't work, mine worked in a factory, Janet's dad was a dentist, mine worked in a factory. Did I get scared at night when I heard gun shots? No, it's more scary when the police and ambulance arrive to take away the bodies. Did I have a yard? Nope, but there is an empty lot next door, it's sort of like a yard, if you can look past all the garbage. Did I have pets? Yes, a dog, a turtle, some fish, a few chickens, a goose, 2 rabbits and some pigeons, not all in the house, some we kept on the roof. We made the apple jelly while hearing my tales. While I was there I also had milk and cookies. I can still see Janet's mom face drop when I asked if she had cafe con leche and corn flakes instead, I liked that better. Picture my chagrin when she said kids shouldn't drink coffee. They were a nice family but odd.

I went home with 2 jars of apple jelly and 4 apples. I held that brown bag as tightly as I could as I ran all the way home. I had peanut butter and jelly for the first time. It was yummy even if we didn't have bread. We ate the apples as I shared every tiny detail of my adventure. All of us in the living room, sitting by candle light (our electricity had been shut off), keeping a lookout for roaches or rats and listening to the sounds of distant and not so distant sirens. All these years later I remember Janet. I wonder if she ever knew how wondrous an adventure apple jelly was for a kid like me.