Popcorn Tuesday

The sun smiled down on little Hero’s operation: a wooden fold-out table, and a hand-painted sign propped precariously above it.

‘Popcorn: 75 cents. Flavors: White Cheddar, Caramel or Combo.’

The popcorn balls were lovingly tied with slender yellow ribbons.

Hero wasn’t having much success. Mr. Miranda, the bodega owner across the street, saw her looking glum and brought her a popsicle at two o’clock. Kind of him, but it didn’t do very much to cheer her - not after rolling sticky popcorn into perfect orbs all night. So far she’d only had three customers, and needed very badly to pee, but there was nobody to keep an eye on things.

I should’ve done this on the weekend, she thought. On the weekend, children played outside until dark. The weekend turned out plenty of potential customers with loose change in their pockets.

Alas - today was Tuesday, and the children were in school. Except for Hero, who broke her foot two days earlier and couldn’t put much weight on it. She thought she would make some money while she was out of school. That’s the kind of child Hero was.

Hero swung her good foot back and forth, wishing something would happen.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up.

“I’ll take one caramel, please,” said the shadow, holding out a five dollar bill. Hero squinted. It was the large, callous hand of a man, and the withered voice of an old man at that, but she could not make out his features. Against the sun, his face was just a black patch.

“They’re only seventy-five cents, you know,” she said.

“I beg your pardon - are tips not welcome?”

“Oh.” Hero felt silly. “Thank you.” She selected the biggest caramel popcorn ball she could find, and put it into his gnarly hand.

“Herooo!”

Hero turned to look: Here came Georgina and Rabbit over the hill. That meant school was out. Soon, there would be more customers. And her friends could watch the stand while she took a bathroom break. Hero sighed with relief.

Georgie came to a halt on her new bike, and leaned over the handlebars. Rabbit trotted up beside her, blowing a big bubble with her gum. She wasn’t really named Rabbit (her name was Elsinore), but everybody called her that on account of the slight gap in her front teeth, and the perpetual pigtail buns. That, in combination with her shining doe eyes and button nose, created a very rabbity aura.

“You didn’t tell us you were selling popcorn, you rando,” said Georgie.

“How’s the foot?” Rabbit inquired.

“I was bored,” Hero answered Georgie. “And it’s starting to feel better,” she said to Rabbit. “Could you two watch the stand while I go pee?”

Georgie and Rabbit sagged, moaning and rolling their eyes as the weight of the world was placed on their shoulders. Hero didn’t wait for them to make up excuses; she was already taking hold of her crutches.

“Thanks,” she said, and got to her feet. “Oh!”

She had forgotten the old man standing there, and turned around to thank him for his business, but he was already gone.

When Hero returned, Georgie and Rabbit had their heads together over a little black book. Georgie looked up with excitement on her face.

“Is this yours?” she asked, pointing to the book.

Hero frowned, and shook her head. “I’ve never seen that. The old man must’ve left it.”

“Old man?”

“The customer I had when you two came up.”

“Oh.” Georgie sounded like she didn’t remember any customer. “Well anyway, there’s only one entry - look.”

Hero set her crutches against the table and leaned down for a look.

Dear Reader,

See if you can solve my riddle:

I weep and weep, year after year, whilst under my arms folk gather with cheer.

Georgie frowned. “What could that mean?”

“Obviously it means that old weeping willow, in the park downtown,” said Rabbit, and popped her gum.

Children were coming up and down the street in clusters now. Hero waved to them.

“Popcorn!” she called. “Popcorn, seventy-five cents!”

Georgie wrinkled her nose at Rabbit in annoyance. “Know-It-All.”

Rabbit just chewed. Georgie rolled her eyes.

“Well, so what? So what about the willow tree?” Georgie was a very tense little girl.

“This riddle must be telling us to go there,” Rabbit explained, while Hero exchanged popcorn balls for pocket money.

“Hang on a minute!” cried Hero, suddenly overwhelmed. Children were yelling out their orders from down the makeshift line. “One at a time!”

“Go there?” Georgie echoed doubtfully. “Seems harmless, but some strange old man left this, right? Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe he’s a perv laying a trap.”

“That’s why we have each other,” said Rabbit, blowing another bubble. “And anyway, I know muay thai.”

“You’re nine,” Georgie pointed out. “I’m not exactly relieved.”

“Grab me some caramel balls! Under the table there!” Hero yelled frantically, not having enough hands. Rabbit bent down and came up with her arms full of caramel popcorn balls. Hero plucked what she needed from the load.

Ultimately, Hero and Rabbit went to the park downtown. Georgie was convinced to stay and watch the popcorn stand. In exchange, she would get half the day’s earnings from Hero’s popcorn business.

“I’m the one who figured out the riddle, and I’m the best one to defend us,” Rabbit had pointed out.

“Yeah - and Hero is the worst. She’s got a broken foot,” Georgie replied sourly.

Hero fell back into her chair with a great sigh - the children were gone, as suddenly as they’d come. The chaos was over.

“That old man left the journal for me,” she said, finally free to join their conversation. “It’s only right that I follow the riddle, too.”

“Let us use your bike,” Rabbit added.

Georgie was indignant. “No big deal leaving me out, huh?”

Of course that wasn’t true.

The old willow tree stood in Alden Park, which featured a walking trail, and flower beds, and a stream with a little bridge going over it, and a pond - all very picturesque. The tree had been there since before the town’s beginning. Everybody called it Florence, after Florence Alden, the town’s founder.

Nobody was there.

Hero rode on the back of Georgie’s bike, holding her crutches with one hand and Rabbit’s shoulder with the other. She had the little black book tucked in her back pocket. Rabbit lurched to a halt, forgetting her friend’s precarious situation. Hero nearly fell off, but ultimately managed not to.

Together they entered the park. Rabbit pushed Georgie’s bike down the footpath, and Hero swung along beside her. As they went they looked around, thinking of the strange old man who had left the little black book, and wondering why he had done so.

“Maybe he just forgot it,” Rabbit mused out loud.

“Maybe,” Hero replied.

“Or maybe he’s waiting behind a tree to jump us,” Rabbit mused further.

Hero glanced at her friend. “I think he’s too old to try something like that.”

“Yes, but he left the book for you,” Rabbit pointed out. “And you’ve got a broken foot. Maybe he didn’t expect you to bring anyone along.”

Hero felt a chill down her spine. “We should’ve thought of that before,” she muttered.

“Oh, I did,” Rabbit replied casually. “But I wanted to see what the riddle was all about. Would’ve been safer for you to stay behind, and Georgie to come along - but then we might not have discovered the point of the riddle. If it’s something meant for you, then you had to come.”

Hero wasn’t sure she liked the way Rabbit’s mind worked, but she couldn’t really argue, either. After all, nobody had forced her to come.

They soon reached the rise where Florence stood. Rabbit helped Hero to limp up the grassy knoll, and through the curtain of willow branches, until they stood within its shadow at the foot of the tree.

Slowly and silently they circled Florence’s trunk, looking for signs of anything unusual.

“I don’t see anything,” said Rabbit.

“I don’t either,” said Hero. “—Wait!”

She did see something - a square corner of something, wedged in where Florence’s trunk split into three large branches. The Something glinted dully: It was made of metal.

“I see something!” Hero exclaimed. “Up there!”

Rabbit came around to Hero’s side and strained her eyes.

“Oh, yeah - I see it, too. Here, get on my shoulders.” Rabbit knelt down. Hero eyed her friend doubtfully.

“With a broken foot?”

“Better than me getting on your shoulders,” Rabbit pointed out, still waiting.

“Alright,” said Hero unhappily. Setting down her crutches, she limped over to her friend and climbed shakily up to sit on her shoulders.

“Oh, you’re not that heavy,” Rabbit remarked. “Right, now I’m going to stand.” Putting her hand on Florence’s trunk for support, Rabbit got to her feet. “Can you reach it?”

“I… I think so,” Hero gasped, stretching as much as she could. Her fingertips brushed the metal Something. Luckily, it was not wedged too tight. Bit by bit she coaxed it out of its hiding place.

Two minutes later the girls sprawled breathlessly in the grass. A small, ancient suitcase lay between them.

“Of course there would be a trick to opening it,” Hero observed wryly, because they couldn’t get it open.

“Help! Somebody help!”

Both of the girls jumped: The noise was sudden, and fears of kidnapping still lurked in their minds.

Emerging through Florence’s canopy they discovered an old woman, standing at the edge of the pond. She propped herself up with a cane, and she was bent forward trying to reach something in the water.

“My shawl!” the old lady cried shrilly.

Rabbit sighed.

“You go on and help her,” said Hero. “You can get there faster.”

“Right.” Rabbit gave Hero the suitcase, and ran to the old lady’s side. Hero struggled after her friend.

A fuzzy mound of purple cloth was slowly disappearing into the water.

“Oh! Thank heavens,” the old lady gasped. “Here I was just toddling along” (Here’s a woman taking advantage of her old age, thought Rabbit) “and a gust of wind picked up out of nowhere! It ripped my shawl clean off, and I just can’t reach it.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Rabbit assured her, blowing a bubble while she eyed the distance between herself and the Disappearing Shawl.

She tried squatting down at the water’s edge to reach the shawl, but it was too far.

“Right, I’ll have to step in,” Rabbit decided, and proceeded to take off her shoes and socks. Hero caught up with them while Rabbit was rolling up her pant legs.

The water was quite cold, but Rabbit went in without flinching. By now the shawl had disappeared from view, and though she felt around, she couldn’t find it. Rabbit was forced to step in further. The water went up past her knees.

“Oh dear,” the old lady murmured.

“Geez, where’d it go?” Rabbit was bewildered: She had seen the shawl only moments earlier.

Then, Rabbit’s foot caught in something under the water - one of Florence’s roots, most like - and with a twist of her ankle she fell.

“Ow!” she cried, landing with a splat! in the pond. “Oh - here’s your shawl.” She lifted the soggy purple fuzz out of the water. “But I’m stuck.”

“Oh my goodness!” the old lady cried. “Thank you my dear - and I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright.” Rabbit threw the recovered treasure, and it plopped with a squelch onto the grass.

“Here,” said Hero. She held out one of her crutches to Rabbit. “Grab hold of that.”

“I’m not drowning, Hero,” Rabbit explained patiently from where she sat in the pond. “I’m stuck. I can’t get my foot out.”

“I can’t come in, either,” Hero mused with a frown. “If I do, the cast will get all wet. Hang on - I’ll call Georgie.”

“Then who will watch the popcorn stand?”

“Never mind that - we have to get you out.”

Rabbit laughed. “Georgie’s going to be all, ‘I told you I should’ve come along!’ when she gets here.”

While Hero fumbled with her cell phone, the old lady noticed the suitcase in her other hand.

“I used to have one of those,” she said. “Finnicky little things.”

The wind blew.

The ancient suitcase fell open.

Money flew everywhere.

“Wha?” cried Rabbit.

“Oh. My.” Hero lowered her phone and stared.

Green bills fluttered through the air, showering down around the three of them to land in their hair, and on the grass, and mostly in the pond itself.

Hero looked morosely down at the open suitcase hanging from her hand.

A little white piece of paper was still inside of it, stuck to its velvet lining. Hero slipped her phone back into her pocket and pulled the paper out of the suitcase.

Dear Reader, it said: Congratulations on solving my riddle. Here is $20,000.00 for being an explorer.

“Not anymore,” Hero remarked sadly.

“What? What does it say!?” called Rabbit.

“Twenty thousand dollars!” Hero replied.

“Oh,” said Rabbit. A twenty dollar bill landed on the water beside her, and she picked it up.

Three hours later the girls sat at Hero’s house, warming themselves in front of a fire with mugs of hot cocoa. After that first gust of wind, the weather had turned cold in keeping with the moodiness of Spring.

“Never mind me for now,” Rabbit had said; “get as much of it as you can!”

So Hero went hobbling around, capturing as much of the escaped money as she could. The old lady helped her.

“Least I can do, after you girls recovered my shawl,” she said.

Then Hero called Georgie, and Georgie got Mr. Miranda to keep an eye on the popcorn stand while she came running to the park, and waded into the pond to free Rabbit’s foot.

Now they sat in front of the the fire, counting the salvaged remains.

“Fourteen thousand, two hundred and fifty,” Hero announced.

The girls stared at each other.

“That’s just right to split three ways,” Georgie grinned. Quickly she added, “Just kidding, Hero. That money was meant for you.”

“No way,” said Hero. “You two really helped. I couldn’t have done it by myself. Of course we’re going to split it.”

“Hullo, girls,” said a withered old voice, and the three of them looked up.

Hero’s grandfather stood in the living room doorway, his hands in his pockets.

“My, my,” he observed, eyes twinkling as they fell on the stacks of money: “Selling popcorn has been quite the success, eh? Don’t you let that blow into the fire, now.”

Hastily, the girls pushed their money away from the fireplace.

Rabbit eyed Hero’s grandfather as he turned and went out of the room.

She wondered.