"Tom Atoe" Thus Far
Tom Atoe sat on the bottom shelf of the fridge next to Broc Oli. “Hey Broc, today is Wednesday, and you know what that means!”
“Oh yeah, I totally forgot. It’s grocery day isn’t it?” Broc spoke in a monotone voice, obviously not excited by the time of the week. He himself had come but a week ago, and this would be his first grocery day in the fridge.
Ignoring Broc’s lack of excitement, Tom sat wide eyed and perky, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the new foods.
The family who owned the fridge seldom ate tomatoes, but the youngest child insisted on picking out a big red one. That was a month ago. Now Tom’s bright red skin had faded to a burnt orange, and soggy wrinkles appeared around his waist as gravity pulled him down.
Finally, the door to the fridge swung open, and one by one, the new foods were put into the fridge. When the fridge closed, Tom rolled to the edge of the shelf for a better view. To his disappointment, most of this week’s groceries were meats or dry foods. He had nothing against other food groups, but he couldn’t socialize with the meats for fear of cross contamination, and the dry foods were stored in the pantry way on the other side of the kitchen.
“Alright everybody, let’s give the new guys a warm welcome!” Tom began to clap and cheer.
Broc leaned over and in a quick whisper said, “Dude, you’re scaring them off. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
Tom continued to hoot and holler disregarding Broc’s comment. A few weeks ago, he would have been offended, but he had since learned that most vegetables are discourteous and hold little personality. In fact, Broc had been the most charismatic of the veggies since Tom had arrived in the fridge. When it came to enthusiasm, Tom was alone.
“So, let’s all introduce ourselves everyone. I am Tom Atoe. It’s a pleasure to have all of you in the fridge.” He waited for a while for someone to reply with their own name, but nobody did. The tips of his smile began to droop, and soon he had no smile at all. He looked at the new veggies with discontent. Many had plastic name-tags attached. He squinted to read them. There was Snow Pea, Cauli Flower, and the rest he couldn’t make out.
Hi Tom, I’m Cauli, and this is Snow. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Tom replied in his thoughts as if he were Cauli Flower. If he couldn’t make the new guys talk, at least he could imagine them talking.
That evening, the door to the fridge opened once more, but this time, there were no groceries by the door. The woman who lives in the house called to her husband “Hey honey, are the Boregards still coming for dinner?”
“Yep. You better make sure you better double the size of the casserole. You know how Jim likes his grub.”
Tom looked up at the dinner shelf. It always held the food that was for dinner that night so that the family wouldn’t have to search. On the shelf there was an ear of corn, a carton of milk, and one big green crown of Broccoli.
“Aren’t you glad you’re not that guy?” Tom asked Broc.
“Yeah I-” Broc was cut off mid sentence when a wrinkled hand began to strangle him. She lifted him up to the next shelf, and dropped him. Tom sat silently, his lips moving apart and closed as if he were talking, but no words came out. His eyes were wide, but not like before when he was excited. This was a different wide. He trembled slightly as if the chilly sting of the refrigerator was finally kicking in. Well, at least that was what it looked like from the outside. Tom wished that it was the refrigerator’s sting that caused him to shake. That ghastly feeling of chilly air seeping through you is nothing compared to the realization that your only friend was tonight’s dinner, and you were left with a bunch of robot veggies that showed no joy.
After just a few seconds, Tom came out of shock. Instead of grieving and moping about how Broc would be gone, he had decided to find a way to free Broc. Although Tom would have loved to come up with a Brilliant plan to save his friend and be remembered as a hero, everyone knew that tomatoes were not the brightest veggies in the salad. It would have done him no good to sit around trying to come up with a plan. After all, he only had a couple of hours.
Tom decided that the only veggie who would be able to help him was the legendary Grandpa Tatoe. Grandpa Tatoe had lived in the family’s pantry for over 6 months without expiring. He knew everything about everything, or at least that’s what the stories said. It would be a risky journey. He would have to make all the way to the pantry, and even then he would have to find Tatoe, but it was the only way.
Tom sat by the edge of the shelf waiting for someone to open the fridge. He had heard Cauli and Snow whispering about how queer he was and that he was probably going to commit suicide. He decided not to set them straight. There would be no point in explaining to them to true heroic nature of his actions when they would probably just laugh. He listened to them for several minutes, hearing them giggle and whisper. It just made him more eager to get out of the fridge.
For the third time that Wednesday, the fridge door swung open. Without even looking at the snacker, Tom rolled off the shelf and onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor, being careful to hide under the fridge until the human was gone and wouldn’t think to put him back.
He had done it. He was out of the fridge, but now that the momentum from the fall was gone, how would he get to the pantry? He sat pondering on the newfound obstacle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pink, wormlike, tail. Tom knew that this tail belonged to a mouse. There had been an infestation of them at the grocery store he had lived at. Tom had also picked up on the fact that mice were stupid, even more so than tomatoes.
“Hey you, tomato boy, a
any idea where I can find something to eat? I’m starved. The rats said this place was a goldmine of food, but hey, I guess the rats are pretty dumb. I don’t know why I even bother to listen to them.”
Tom struggled to retain his laughter. The mouse could have easily just eaten him, but he didn’t realize that, and now here he was asking where to find food. Although it was funny, to Tom this had to be serious. Maybe the mouse would be gullible enough to take him to the pantry. He just had to make sure to keep a straight face.
“Well…” Tom paused to give the impression that he was thinking. “I know of this little closet with lots of crumbs on the ground. I could show you where it is if you will push me along. I will also need a ride back here. After all, I wouldn’t want to stay there. I have all the food I need.”
“Great! That sounds perfect.” And so the rat pushed tom along the floor as he gave directions to the pantry, which wasn’t so hard because the only direction to give was straight.
Once they got to the pantry, Tom remembered that he still had to find a way to get the mouse to take him to Grandpa Tatoe.
“While we are here, do you think you could take me to…an old friend of mine?” Tom asked.
“No way! Taking you all the way back to the fridge is a high enough price already. You would have to make it worth my while.”
Tom’s feeling of accomplishment sank. He had jumped out of the fridge, tricked a mouse into taking him to the pantry, and all for nothing. He would have considered giving the mouse something, but he had nothing but himself. It didn’t matter what he had to do to save Broc. Tom would do it. He would rather wither and die than loose his only friend in the fridge. So it was settled. He would give himself for the good of his friend.
“How would you like some of my juicy insides? It beats green cheese and stale crackers. I promise. I would offer more, but I have nothing else to give.”
The mouse took the offer immediately. He had never tasted tomato, and he could use some change. So for a whole ten minutes, they searched for Grandpa Tatoe. They asked the rice, but they didn’t recall a veggie by that name. They asked the Cheezies, but they were to busy partying to help him. So they just looked. And looked. And…looked.
Finally, they came across an old stump of jerky that remembered Grandpa Tatoe.
“Well then Mr. Jerky, where can we find him? It is urgent so we will need the quickest route. A map would also be ni-”.
“I am sorry, but Mr. Tatoe was infested with maggots but a few days ago. I’m afraid he is gone.”
Tom stared at the Jerky. Before another word could be said, the mouse began rolling Tom back to the fridge. He had never met a meat before, and after this first impression, he was glad.
“If all meats are like this, then I am glad we would be cross contaminated upon meeting them.” Tom muttered to himself.
Apparently, the mouse had heard him, because in reply he asked, “Well what’s so bad about cross contamination?” Tom thought about the question. He had never really thought about it.
“I guess it just means we would have to be thrown away, but I wouldn’t really know for sure. No veggie with CC has ever stayed in the fridge long enough to say. They are discarded immediately.” Discarded immediately. Tom thought about that. If him and Broc became cross contaminated, they would probably be thrown away, but they would be going to the same place; the trash.
“Alright, this is your stop, and before you go, don’t forget about our deal. I don’t take I O U’s.”
Tom didn’t forget. He slowly squeezed himself until a bit of juice spurted out. He winced as the mouse pulled out a small piece of his meat. He could feel each seed puncturing his skin, scraping against his side. Its for Broc he thought to stop himself from screaming.
The mouse scurried away seeming happy with the outcome of the deal. Now the only problem for Tom would be getting back into the fridge and telling Broc his plan. So once again, he waited by the side of the fridge for someone to grab a snack. Not to his surprise, someone did. The hungry human took out a slice of cheese and put Tom back onto the shelf.
Tom looked up to the dinner shelf, and thank goodness Broc was still there. “Broc!” he shouted up. Broc looked down at Tom with a look of curiosity on his face. Tom had forgotten that Broc had no recollection of him going to the pantry and finding a plan to free him. He mouthed his plan to Broc, who seemed to understand the whole thing. “How do I get down there?” Broc asked.
“Just jump. It won’t hurt you. I jumped to the ground from all the way up here.” Tom answered. Broc fell from the second shelf to the meat shelf, and waited for tom to do the same. Once Tom got there, the two introduced themselves to a meat.
“Hey. I’m T-Bone, and I’d be happy to give y’all some’o dat CC.” So Broc and Tom sat on T-Bone’s plate until dinner.
Later that evening, the woman of the house opened the fridge to prepare dinner. She looked at the dinner shelf in confustion. Then she looked down and saw Broc and Tom next to the meat.
“HONEY! WHO LEFT THOSE VEGGIES AT THE EDGE OF THE SHELF? THEY FELL ONTO THE MEAT AND NOW THEY’RE BAD!” the woman shouted. She let out a quick sigh of anger before reaching into the fridge for Tom and Broc. She lifted them with one hand, opened the trash with the other, and out they went.
“Your plan worked!” Broc squealed with excitement. “Our plan worked.” Tom corrected. “It would have been worthless if you weren’t determined enough to go through with it.” The two veggies sat next to each other, crawling with germs, in the trash, ragged, torn, and going bad, but they smiled. They were together, nobody to laugh at their condition, nothing to separate them. And that’s how it was going to stay.
Author's note: I know, I know, you all love it and it's the best story EVER! (not really but whatever)
