Lemons by Melissa Savage

Author:Melissa Savage
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2017-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

A camp-out in Mr. Harold’s backyard that evening is the closest thing to an expedition that Charlie and Debbie agree to let us do on our own in the dark. Which Tobin grumbles about the whole time they’re setting up the tent.

“I’m sorry, Tobin,” Debbie says, pounding in a stake. “It’s just not safe to be in the woods alone all night.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Lemonade.”

“Yes, you do!” Charlie smiles, tying a cord to a stake already in the ground. “Yes, you do!”

“Mr. Harold, is it okay if we use your bathroom instead of the woods tonight?” I ask.

“Of course. The door will be open, so you just help yourself to whatever you need. There are extra blankets if you get cold, and of course if it rains, you two just come right on inside.”

“Now, is there anything else I can do before I leave?” Charlie asks, double-tying the final cord to the ground.

“Nope,” Tobin says.

“Okay, well, I packed granola bars and juice for you both, and some extra Twinkies for Lem.” He hands me a brown paper bag.

“Thank you, Charlie.” Debbie smiles at him and puts a hand on his arm.

“Who has time to eat when cryptozoological discovery is about to be made? All we really need is this.” Tobin holds up his movie camera. “I think tonight is the night. I can feel it! Lemonade, tonight we make history!”

“Good luck, kids. I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning.”

We wave good-bye to Jake as Charlie and Debbie drive down the long dirt drive into the setting sun. The sky is a brilliant orange with a few gray clouds in the distance. But no matter how dark those few clouds are, they can’t block out the bright pinks and warm reds and fiery oranges that stretch across the sky as the sun finds its way behind the pines. A cooling breeze blows, moving my hair off my shoulders and making chicken skin sprout up on my arms.

I look at the clouds way off in the distance one more time, hoping they stay right where they are.

“I’ll be in the house,” Mr. Harold says. “The windows are open, so if you need me, you just holler. And again, if it starts to rain, you just come on inside. It looks like something might be coming.”

“Yes, sir,” Tobin says.

“Good night, then,” Mr. Harold says.

“Night,” we say together.

Tobin and I head to the tent and crawl inside. I find my wool jacket and sweatpants in my duffel bag and pull them on over my shorts and T-shirt.

“I’m staying up all night,” Tobin informs me, sitting cross-legged on top of his sleeping bag. “Here, you’re assigned to the still pictures on this mission.”

He hands me the Polaroid camera. I sit down cross-legged on my sleeping bag facing him and slip the strap around my neck. We sit there staring at each other.

No one says anything.

“What do we do now?” I ask him.

“Wait,” he says.

“For what?”

He leans forward and whispers then.

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