Dale Orchards by Pete

The car clicked shut as Liam, his family, and I hopped out of the car in front of Dale Orchards. It was a blazing Saturday, almost one hundred degrees! I couldn't wait.  

“Look at those huge ruby-red apples,” Liam commented. Liam and I lunged into the air and crashed down on rotten, squishy apples. The aroma of apples of all kinds hit my nose. We walked down the cobblestone path to the front gate. The pebbles looked like beige marbles. The orchard was in the middle of a valley.

“May I help you?” said the employee at the front gate.
“We’ll have two bags please,” said Paul in his deep voice.
The employee yanked two bags out of a shelf over her head “That’ll be twenty-four dollars please,” said the employee in her crabby, annoyed voice.

As we walked along the lush tees of the orchard we pluck stupendous apples off of the healthy trees. Then we drop them into our bags. Liam and I started to get hungry because we skipped lunch. So we plucked two apples off the branches of the gala trees. As I sunk my teeth into the light red skin of the apple I could see the white flesh of it. It tasted glorious. 

Liam said “These apples must have fallen from heaven” in an amazed voice. I had to agree.

After I finished my apple I shouted to Liam “Come over here!” Then he ran over. I punted my core across the field. It must’ve split into at least fifty pieces. The closest piece landed about seventeen feet away. The farthest piece away from me was one-hundred feet away or more!

As we wandered on Liam and I started to get bored. Then we entered the granny smith section. We wanted to practice our pitching before the baseball season started. So we nabbed ten clean apples each. We got them all off the ground. There was a pile of cement bricks on the ground, about fifty feet in front of us. It was about seven feet high. I decided to try my cutters because they're a bit wild (A cutter is a kind of pitch).

"Strike one," yelled Liam as I threw a perfect cutter. "Strike two," hollered Liam as a two-seam fastball slammed into the hard brick-like pile.

I threw another good cutter that wacked hard into the pile of cement "Strike three," I whispered to myself with glee.