The blue tomato

It was a Wednesday.

On Wednesdays, Nana always goes to the supermarket to do some shopping.

This Wednesday was a lovely, sunny day. Nana’s green car sparkled in the sunshine.

At the supermarket, lots of people were already getting their shopping. Their cars sparkled, too, but they were not as sparkly as Nana’s green car.

Nana parked the car, took her shopping bag with the pink flowers on it out of the car boot and hurried to the stand where the trolleys were waiting for shoppers, pushed a Euro into the slot, and pulled the trolley out.

Then she went into the supermarket and tried to remember what was on her shopping list.

“I remember now,” she told herself after a minute or two. “I need tomatoes and other things.”

There was nobody at the tomato stand, so Nana took her time choosing which ones she would buy. There were little ones with green stalks attached, tomatoes as big as apples, tomatoes hanging off long joined-up stalks and medium-sized tomatoes arranged in rows. The tomatoes in rows all looked the same and probably tasted the same.

Then Nana looked again at the rows of medium-sized tomatoes. Are not all tomatoes red? She asked herself.  No. Some are green if they are not ready to eat, but as a rule the tomatoes we eat on our bread or in our salad are red.

So what was a bright blue tomato doing in a row of red tomatoes?

Nana looked around for a sales assistant, but she could not see one. There was a man in a straw hat selling meat at the meat counter, a large lady wearing a floral overall selling cakes at the cake counter, and three ladies taking the money at the check-outs, but there was no one selling tomatoes.

“Help yourself!” the sign said at the vegetable stand.

“OK. I’ll help myself,” said Nana out loud as she took a paper bag from the pile of paper bags waiting to be filled with carrots, or…peas, or…beans, or…apples, or…tomatoes.

Nana packed 6 red tomatoes into a paper bag.

“That will be enough,” she decided.

Then she heard a small voice telling her to “Take me, too!”

Nana looked around, but she could not see anyone.

“Youwho! I’m here,” said the voice, and it seemed to be coming from the tomatoes.

It was. The blue tomato was talking.

“Tomatoes can’t talk,” said Nana to herself, “especially blue ones.”

“Don’t leave me here,” said the blue tomato sadly.

Nana felt sorry for the blue tomato. She did not think she would want to eat it, but she would show it to people and they would be happy that she had rescued it.

Back home, Nana unpacked her shopping and put the bag with the tomatoes in the fridge.

Then she heard a familiar voice calling “Get me out of here. I’m freezing cold.”

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” called Nana. She took the seven tomatoes out of the fridge and out of their bag, and put them on a plate. The blue one was in the centre and the other six in a ring around it.

“Thank you,” called the blue tomato.

“Don’t mention it,” said Nana.

“You can’t eat me, you know,” said the blue tomato.

“I wasn’t going to,” said Nana. “No one eats blue tomatoes.”

“What I mean is that I’m too special to eat,” said the blue tomato.

“Yes, you are,” said Nana.

“I’m not really a tomato at all,” said the blue tomato.

“Yes you are,” said Nana. “You must be. You were in the company of tomatoes and you look just like a tomato except that you are blue.”

“No, I’m not a real tomato. If you try to eat me, you will get terrible indigestion. I’m only a pretend tomato. I’m made of plastic. Shoppers look at me and then they buy the real red tomatoes. I’m part of the supermarket decorations along with the other plastic fruits and vegetables. Nobody has ever taken us home before.”

“Well, you are part of my decorations now, Mr Blue Tomato,” said Nana, and laughed at her own silliness until tears ran down her cheeks.

“That was a really silly mistake, wasn’t it!” she said when she had finished laughing.

“Yes!” called all the tomatoes in a chorus. “It was a really silly mistake, Nana.”