It was one of those hot summer afternoons when the heat sticks to your skin and even the shade feels like it’s given up. The kind of day when the sun shines down on you with no compassion and the air scarcely moves. There was a rickety little lemonade shop on the edge of a quiet, sun-bleached street. It had two crates, an old folding table, and a crooked sign that said, “ICE COLD LEMONADE—25¢ A CUP!”
A youngster, maybe 9 or 10 years old, was behind the stand. He had on a faded baseball cap and a grin that made him look a little too sure of himself for someone selling watered-down lemonade. There was a pitcher of hazy yellow liquid on the table that was almost empty, and his hands were sticky with sugar and lemon pulp.
The street had been largely quiet all afternoon, but then a middle-aged man started walking down the sidewalk. He looked tired and wore clothes that were wet with sweat, as if he had been outside in the heat for too long. His cheeks were flushed, his forehead was shining, and he stopped when he saw the stand, like a man who had just found an oasis.
“Is it hot enough for you?” the man inquired with a half-laugh as he reached into his pocket for pay.
“Yes, it is,” the youngster said calmly as he reached for a cup. “But a little lemonade can fix it.”
The guy put some cash on the table, and without thinking, the boy poured a lot of lemonade into a weak plastic cup. He put it to his lips and drank as if he hadn’t had anything cold in a week. He smiled and put the empty cup down with a long, happy “ahhh.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he added. “You know what?” Hit me again, kid.”
Without missing a beat, the lad poured another cup. That one went down just as quickly for the man. Then one more. And one more. After the fourth cup, he let out a low groan. It wasn’t because he was in pain; it was because he was completely full. He smiled from ear to ear as he leaned on the table and patted his plump stomach.
He laughed and remarked, “Son, I got my money’s worth.” This is the best deal I’ve gotten all week.
The boy nodded happily, but there was something about his face that showed he was up to no good. His eyes had a hint of wickedness in them, which was almost hidden by his innocent smile. Then, casually, as if narrating a humorous tale, he said,
“I’m glad you liked it, sir.” The lemonade stand isn’t real, you see.
The man blinked, not quite getting it. “What do you mean?”
The boy pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at a small, old outhouse that was a little ways away. It looked more like it belonged in a campground than in a neighborhood. The door was slightly ajar, and the whole building swayed to one side, as if it had its own stories to tell.
“That outhouse over there?” “Yeah, it’s broken,” the boy remarked with a shrug. “Wasn’t draining right.” My grandpa told us we had to find a way to empty it. So we added a lot of sugar, lemons, and water to it. You, um, just helped us get rid of the last batch.
Be quiet. Complete, jaw-dropping silence.
The man’s smile stopped. A drop of sweat gently trickled down the side of his cheek. He stared at the empty cup in his palm as if it had let him down. Then he looked at the boy, who was still standing there with the same innocent expression.
For a whole three seconds, nothing moved. The wind even seemed to halt.
Finally, the man swallowed hard, once and then twice, and nodded stiffly. He didn’t say a thing; he just turned around and walked away, never looking back. Not even a “goodbye.”
The child saw him leave, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. He quietly put the pitcher away, piled the cups that had been used, and put the sign under his arm. Another day, another client.
Was it true now? Was the lemonade really what the kid said it was? Or was it just a well-planned joke, like the kind of story youngsters like to tell each other in the summer? Who’s to say?
But one thing is for sure: if you encounter a kid at a lemonade stand on a quiet road on a hot day and he or she is smiling a little too much, you might want to ask a few more questions before you get that second cup.