In a fog of diesel fumes machines surrounded the bushes, shaking their bases and whapping their stems with spinning tines to loosen every morsel of fruit. Blueberries bounced into hoppers and down a funnel to the flats waiting below.
Bush told Bud this day would come.
&&&
“The Great Gatherer returns each year to collect his children, Bud.”
Just a green bump on Bush’s stem Bud listened but did not understand. Bush continued, “I have seen generations before you. You will grow, ripen, and be gathered.”
“Why?” Bud asked.
“The Gatherer works in mysterious ways. We only know one day He will return to collect you and all your brothers and sisters and take you to a place where all dreams are fulfilled. Have faith Bud.”
“Crazy old Bush,” Bud said to himself as he siphoned sweet sap and soaked in the sunshine.
&&&
As The Gatherer approached, Bud trembled in fear. “No! I love my place in the sun! I don’t want to go!”
“Hush now,” said Bush. “You’re going to a better place. You have done well, you are plump and juicy and now The Gatherer’s promise will be fulfilled.”
“How do you know? You’ve never been gathered! You just sit here stuck in the earth while we disappear to who knows where!”
“The Gatherer knows, Bud. He returns each year as foretold. It is the way of things for me to teach the prophecy to others, to instill faith, and raise the next generation of believers.”
Before he could ask any more questions, the harvester shook and swatted Bud, rocketing him into the hopper and down a shute into darkness. He found himself buried under layers of his brothers and sisters.
“Is this the afterlife?” Bud asked the berries squeezed next to him. But before anyone could answer they were dumped on a series of conveyor belts suffering endless cycles of ice-cold showers, jiggling, rolling, blasts of air, rollers, and sorters before approaching a giant steel tunnel. Bud could see icy fog approaching as the belt drew them quickly inside. In an instant, he was frozen solid and thought, “I’ve gone to hell!” as he blacked out.
When he finally came to, Bud felt something like the warmth of the sun coming from beneath him. A bowl of steaming oatmeal thawed him along with his brothers and sisters. The warm mush cuddled him, warming his frozen core. “This is nice, but it doesn’t feel like heaven,” Bud said.
Scooped into a spoon, he suddenly entered a cave with great gnashing teeth! As he watched his brothers and sisters being crushed into pulp Bud cried out, “Oh Great Gatherer, spare me! Forgive my sins and doubts. Save me! I believe, I believe!”