Categories > Original > Drama
Lemonade
1 ReviewsA meeting between the ones left behind.
He passes by her everyday, on his way to the abandoned supermarket. They live in a small town, so the store hadn't been as ravished as some of the stores in bigger towns and cities. He mostly goes for the bottled water, now; he couldn't carry it all back by himself, so he goes back every couple of days to get more. He's already stockpiled as much of the canned goods as he could, and everything else was rotting and gross.
She's old, but not old enough to be wrinkly. He always waves at her, and she nods right back and he continues on his way. Today, though, she waves him over. She's sitting on her porch, in front of the only house in their entire town that still has someone living in it, besides his. Wordlessly, she gives him a small smile and offers him a glass of lemonade. He takes it, smiling back. She only has the one chair, so he sits on the steps.
"It's getting hotter," he says after a time.
"Mm." She stares at nothing.
"Why are you still here?" he asks her.
"I was in prison when it happened," is all she says, as if that explains everything.
"What were you in for?"
She leans back in her seat, still staring at nothing. "A man raped me, and as soon as I had the chance I stabbed him in the neck."
He almost drops his glass.
"Because I did it after instead of during, it was second degree murder, not self-defense." She sips her lemonade.
"...are you serious?"
She nods.
"That's... that's bullshit, I mean, that's crap, sorry -- you got raped and went to prison for it?"
She shrugs. "His wife had a good lawyer."
He stares into his lemonade. After awhile he says, "Um, but why are you still here?"
She shifts in her seat. "I had a son. He was about your age, last I saw him. A husband, too. They were both gone when I got back."
"Then why don't you look for them?"
"I have no idea where to. The best chance I got is hoping they come back here someday." She tips her glass, chews on an ice cube. "If they want to see me at all."
He wipes at the condensation on his glass, around and around. "So you just sit here and wait for them."
"Mm."
She doesn't seem to want to talk anymore, so he sits and drank his lemonade and stares at nothing, just like her.
"Why are you still here, then?"
He looks up, then looks back down. "Nowhere to go. No reason to leave."
"Ah." She doesn't ask anymore questions.
He finishes his drink and hands the glass back to her. "I'd better get going, I don't like walking around in the dark. Thanks for the lemonade, Mrs. ...?"
She smiles. "Just call me Mel."
She's old, but not old enough to be wrinkly. He always waves at her, and she nods right back and he continues on his way. Today, though, she waves him over. She's sitting on her porch, in front of the only house in their entire town that still has someone living in it, besides his. Wordlessly, she gives him a small smile and offers him a glass of lemonade. He takes it, smiling back. She only has the one chair, so he sits on the steps.
"It's getting hotter," he says after a time.
"Mm." She stares at nothing.
"Why are you still here?" he asks her.
"I was in prison when it happened," is all she says, as if that explains everything.
"What were you in for?"
She leans back in her seat, still staring at nothing. "A man raped me, and as soon as I had the chance I stabbed him in the neck."
He almost drops his glass.
"Because I did it after instead of during, it was second degree murder, not self-defense." She sips her lemonade.
"...are you serious?"
She nods.
"That's... that's bullshit, I mean, that's crap, sorry -- you got raped and went to prison for it?"
She shrugs. "His wife had a good lawyer."
He stares into his lemonade. After awhile he says, "Um, but why are you still here?"
She shifts in her seat. "I had a son. He was about your age, last I saw him. A husband, too. They were both gone when I got back."
"Then why don't you look for them?"
"I have no idea where to. The best chance I got is hoping they come back here someday." She tips her glass, chews on an ice cube. "If they want to see me at all."
He wipes at the condensation on his glass, around and around. "So you just sit here and wait for them."
"Mm."
She doesn't seem to want to talk anymore, so he sits and drank his lemonade and stares at nothing, just like her.
"Why are you still here, then?"
He looks up, then looks back down. "Nowhere to go. No reason to leave."
"Ah." She doesn't ask anymore questions.
He finishes his drink and hands the glass back to her. "I'd better get going, I don't like walking around in the dark. Thanks for the lemonade, Mrs. ...?"
She smiles. "Just call me Mel."
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