Quick And Dirty Fiction: Button Likes Fruit

Quick and dirty, in this case, meaning I just scribbled it down and only checked to make sure things were spelled right, for the most part.

Button is most kindly described (by strangers) as ‘simple’. It’s not that he’s stupid, it’s that he’s incredibly dyslexic and probably has an actual learning disability — and the country/culture/time-period in which he exists knows nothing of these things. (He has a real name, by the way — it’s Burton. He either couldn’t hear or couldn’t say the R, when he was little, but he could say Button. It stuck. ‘Thaddeus Trimbull’ was pretty much impossible for him, too, but Thimble wasn’t.) 

He and Thimble get along as best they can, and for the most part, they’re quite content with their lives. This isn’t part of anything in particular, it’s just a little bit that showed up one night while I was slicing strawberries for strawberry shortcake. 

* * * *

“Here I am,” Thimble called, as he opened the door.

Button put aside The Bunny Family’s Picnic and got up. “Thimble! How was your day? Did you get anything good at the market?” He took the knapsack from the other young man, smiling at its weight.

“My day was long and full of people,” Thimble said, as he hung up his jacket. “And I got some good things. I got you some fruit.”

“Strawberries?” Button carried the bag into their niche of a kitchen and put it on the counter, but he didn’t open it. He held out his arms, a hopeful and expectant look on his face.

Thimble joined him, putting his arms around Button. “I’m very sorry, but no, there weren’t any strawberries. I got some apples, and there were a few early peaches, but mostly… Well. Maybe you can guess what else I brought home?”

Button put his chin on Thimble’s shoulder and hummed in thought. “You said apples and peaches, no strawberries… Raspberries? Blueberries? Or is it not berries at all?”

“Not berries,” Thimble said. “I know you really like them, though. Do you want a hint?”

“No hints,” Button said. “It’s fruit, so it doesn’t grow underground. Um… Not tomatoes, please say you didn’t buy tomatoes, okay?”

“I said you really like these,” Thimble said, patting him on the back before letting him go. “So no, not tomatoes.”

“Oh, good. Um… Melon? It would have to be a small melon but there are such a thing as small melons…” Button peered around Thimble, considering the bag on the counter.

“Not a melon, either. There’s six of them.”

“Six of them. I like them… That’s a lot of things!” Button smiled, then went back to thinking. “Pears? Nectarines? Plums? Cherries? No, not cherries, they’re small and six wouldn’t weigh so much.”

“They grow on trees, but they’re not any of those.”

“Apricots? Except no, I don’t like those. Bananas?” Button crossed his arms, frowning mightily at the pack as if he could divine its contents by concentrating.

“Not bananas,” Thimble said.

Heaving a sigh, Button let his hands fall to his sides. “I give up, I don’t know. What is it?”

“Oranges,” Thimble said, opening the bag and offering him one.

“Oh!” Button ignored the orange in favor of throwing his arms around Thimble again and kissing him. “Thank you! I love oranges! They’re like sunshine, but you can eat them.”

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