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Copyright 2012 Von L Cid

All Rights Reserved

 

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Thanks for Reading.

Lenny and the Lemonade

 

Lenny waited for customers, but only a specific customer would make his venture worthwhile. He waited for Michael Marvin Johnson of 2322 Paulie Lane.

He made sure his operation looked legit. The table occupied the front corner of his front yard. Plastic cups were neatly arranged next to a glass pitcher filled with homemade lemonade. It was his own special recipe. He even made a sign. The sign read in large red lettering: Free Lemonade, Donations Appreciated.

Lenny kept looking up the street. He waited for Michael to come careening around the corner on his black BMX bike. Lenny had studied his routine. He would be coming around any minute now.

A car stopped. A tall, lanky man in a business suit popped out of a Mercedes. It was Mr. Nelson, he lived at the end of the street.

“I saw your stand, and I couldn't resist. You know, I did the same thing when I was your age. The red checkerboard tablecloth is a nice touch, classic. Your poster looks very professional. Free huh? You know your buzzwords.”

Mr. Nelson pulled out a crisp five dollar bill from his wallet. He dropped it in the donation jar. The money was nice, but it was not the reason for the lemonade stand. He had a plan. It was a plan that he began to regret as soon as Mr. Nelson poured himself a cup.

Mr. Nelson took a giant swig. Lenny forced a smile, though his natural reaction was to grimace. The man pursed his lips as soon as the taste hit him. He squinted as he raised his face to the sun, like he was kissing it.

He’s not supposed to notice. A fear wave pulsed down Lenny's body. Would Mr. Nelson be able to identify his secret ingredient?

Tart,” Mr. Nelson said, struggling to get words out. “Very tart.”

“Yes, I may have put too many lemons in it.” The poor unsuspecting man was the first collateral damage of the day.

“No, no.” Mr. Nelson was rubbing his throat, looking down at the cup. “It was good.”

As the man smiled down at him, Lenny put on the best poker face he could.

“Thank you. I’m going to take this one to go. I hope your business goes well. Have a blessed day.” The man circled around his car to the driver's side.

Lenny's chair was low enough that he was able to see under the car. He saw a stream of lemonade being poured onto the street. He did not blame him.

“I saw you had your first customer.” His mom came out of the house. “Can I be your second?”

“No!” She looked shocked by his tone. “I mean no, mom, you can’t.” Lenny could not bear the thought of his mom experiencing the same tart lemonade.

“Leonard, I'm willing to pay.”

“It’s free, mom. Just…can you wait until the end? I promise, I will save the last glass for you.”

“Okay, sweetie, I guess that’s fair.”

“Thanks, goodbye now.” He shooed her away.

His mom went inside, just in time too. Lenny saw his target demographic, Michael Marvin Johnson. He rode up to the lemonade stand, just as expected.

“Hi, metal face.”

“Hi, Michael,” he sighed.

“I swear your headgear is bigger every time I see you. At least it hides your freckles and carrot colored hair. What you got going on here?”

“I'm giving away lemonade. It’s free, want some?”

“Are you raising funds so they can finish building the Eiffel Tower around your head?”

He hadn't heard that one before. “No, it’s just lemonade. It’s hot outside I was trying to help the community, that includes you.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Are your bolts too tight? I bet you pissed in it, didn’t you?”

“No, why would I do that?”

“Because you hate me. I was wondering…are they going to recycle your head when you die?”

“Stop it.”

“Can you come by my house later? I’m trying to fix my TV’s reception.”

“Stop it!” Lenny stood up, red with anger.
“Stop it,” he mimicked. “Hey, I didn't know that braces could grow.” He leaned back on his bike. “I'm not trying your piss water. See you at school, Iron Man.”

The plan failed. Michael was getting ready to leave.

“Say hello to the Tin Man for me, would you?”

Thinking fast, Lenny grabbed the pitcher, did a half twirl, and swung the open end towards Michael. He drenched him with a mixture of two parts water, one part lemon juice, one part sugar, and one part dark yellow urine.

Lenny had a few seconds as Michael's brain registered what happened.

“Just so you know,” Lenny said, “I think you’re number one. We're going to play tag tomorrow at school, are u-rine?”

He knew they were corny, but the jokes sounded better when he said them out loud.

“You little shit, I’m going to get you.”

Michael made a move towards him, but Lenny was already halfway to his front door. He was safe for now. He knew he would pay for it later, but the look on Michael Marvin Johnson’s face was worth it.

 

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