Mum stopped in the middle of the garden and put her hands on her hips. “Hmm,” she said to herself, “something has been going on here.”
It certainly looked like that. Someone had leaned a ladder against the lemon tree and picked some of the plump, juicy ones. Then there was a line of muddy footprints going from the ladder up towards the house. Finally she noticed her best white china bowl was sitting on the back door step!
“Hmm,” mum said again. This time out loud in a big voice, so she could be heard by any ladder-leaners who might be nearby. “Hmm! ” she said. “I’ll bet my Jack and Poppy are up to something.”
“Mum we are!” And Jack and Poppy burst out of the kitchen and ran to their mum laughing and jumping. “We’re up to something fantastic!” Jack said. Poppy threw herself around mum and explained, “We were ladder-leaners earlier this morning. Then we became lemon cutters. And now we’re about to become something magnificent! You just wait and see.”
Mum said she hoped whatever was going to happen next she’d be able to rescue her best china bowl and lend Jack and Poppy another one. A cheaper one. A bowl that could be accidentally broken and no-one would mind; too much. Poppy said any bowl would be OK. Although Jack said it should be big. Mum gave them one made from plastic. “Cool,” Jack said and he put it in his bag.
Whatever it was the kids were going to do, it was going to happen up on the hill. So they asked mum if they could go, grabbed a bag of lemons they had cut up, stuffed them into Jack’s bag and scooted out the gate, along the footpath and onto the hill.
This was the life! They panted and pushed through the long scratchy grass, up the slope, up and up towards the high blue sky. In the bush ahead Jack and Poppy heard the birds calling. There was chirping and Jack said that was probably crickets. Up and up they climbed.
“Right,” Poppy said at last. She stopped, “the secret path must be … about here.” Jack said yes it must be and looked around. “Somewhere near here,” he thought. But actually, neither of them could find it. “Oh no!” Jack cried. “It was here yesterday!” Poppy peered and poked behind the bushes and said, “Jack, this is a disaster.” Jack told her it was probably worse than that; it was probably going to be the end of their dreams!
And then Poppy let out a squeal. “There it is!” And sure enough she’d found the narrow little beginning of the secret path. Jack stepped towards it and they both began to follow the track. The track that no-one else knew. The hidden, mysterious pathway. On they went, winding under big tall trees with birds singing at the top. Through patches of bush, where the wind swished and pushed. And all the time, getting closer to a little cliff that they could see ahead.
Actually, it was quite a big cliff. When they finally stood underneath it and looked up the first thing Jack said was, “I wouldn’t like to accidentally fall off this cliff, Poppy.” And she nodded and said, “Same. But let’s find what we came for.” It was easy. They simply walked along the bottom of the cliff for a few minutes until they heard a tinkling, rushing little sound. A wet, dripping noise. Jack pulled back some low ferns and there it was … a delightful little spring. Clear water was burbling and chuckling up from behind a stone. It splashed down into a flat rock and from there dribbled and ran away into the bush.
Jack and Poppy got to work. They carefully l lowered the bowl into the cool clean water. When it was full enough they lifted it out slowly, so it didn’t shake too much, and sat down on some grass. Then one by one they squeezed the lemons above the bowl so the juice squirted and squinted into the water. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Swish, swish, swish. They squeezed and grunted until their hands were sore. And all the time the flavour of the lemons in the water got stronger and sweeter. Poppy said, soon it would be irresistible. Jack said, he didn’t know about that he was sure people wouldn’t be able to says “No’ to a drink. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. And suddenly they were squeezing the last lemon and their juice was ready!
Poppy stood up and clapped her hands. “This is so good, Jack. We’ve made some icy cold lemon juice! Fresh and original.” And Jack said, “With no added sugar or stuff!” He was standing now and between them Jack and Poppy made their way down the path and out onto the hill, carefully caring their precious, original lemon juice. It sloshed and slopped in the bowl but down and down they went and didn’t lose too much.
At the bottom they made their way along the footpath to their gate and set up a little juice store on a table. Poppy wrote a sign. “Free, original, cold, fresh lemon juice. Come and enjoy!”
And in no time kids were hearing about Jack and Poppy’s new, amazing juice that was tangy and sweet and fresh and homemade (well, hill-made, really). They came out of their homes and called their friends and soon Jack and Poppy’s little table was surrounded by the kids from the neighbourhood. They made happy noises, tasted the juice, said it was delicious and the best ever, hoped they could have a second glass and chatted and smiled.
Jack said to Poppy it was good the kids had come and not that mean boy from down at the corner house. If he’d come he’d just spoil the fun, Jack said. Poppy stood up to go into the house to get some more glasses and she said she didn’t think the mean boy would come now. “He’s probably in front of his tv watching some dumb cartoons or something,” she said and disappeared in the gate.
For a little while it did look like that boy hadn’t heard the news of the amazing lemon juice store. But just as Jack was starting to relax, he noticed something. The children at the back of the crowd had gone quiet. Some of them were looking up the street, towards the corner. Others were looking down at their feet and moving away. Jack looked too. And then he saw it. The mean boy was marching towards the happy juice drinkers.
Jack went quiet and looked around for Poppy. But she was still inside. He was on his own.
Then suddenly the mean boy was pushing through the crowd and right up to the table and Jack. He leaned forward and sneared at Jack. He said, “So, you’re selling some hopeless juice!” He spun around and looked at the kids. “And all of you are drinking the stuff and pretending it’s amazing!” Then he called out in a loud voice, “Well, I have some news for you, Jack, and that hopeless sister of yours. Your juice is just homemade junk! You should have left it up the hill where the possums could have it. That’s all its worth!” He turned back and sneared at Jack again. He said, “Haven’t you heard of real drink? Like Coke or Pepsi or Seven up?”
All the kids shrank back. Jack was getting scared and he wanted to say something back, but his mouth couldn’t open. This mean boy was being so unkind! Everyone went still and quiet.
But then a voice called out. “Stop! Stop you meanie! You don’t know anything!” It was Poppy. She was coming through the gate carrying a stack of more glasses and she went right up to the table and glared at the boy. “For one thing,” she said, “we’re not SELLING our juice. We’re giving it away!” The mean boy blinked. He hadn’t had anyone talk back to him strongly like Poppy. And now his mouth couldn’t make any words. Poppy went on. “And further, we’re not trying to make something better than Coke. We’re making fresh, homemade, cold juice from local products right here in our neighbourhood!” The mean boy still couldn’t find any words.
In the quietness the other kids started to quietly snigger. You could hear it. They moved closer to the mean boy and he looked around. “Ok,” he said, “then keep your juice. I need to go and watch some more tv.” And with that he turned and ran back down the street.
Now the kids were hooting and laughing out loud. Jack said Thank you to Poppy and she smiled at him. Everyone had another round of juice and said it was so much better than Coke. Or Pepsi. And when all the juice was drunk, the kids said big thankyous and slowly moved back to their homes.
Just then dad arrived home from work and asked what was happening. Jack and Poppy told him about their juice and the kids from the neighbourhood and tha mean boy from the corner house.
Dad said that sort of thing does happen. “It happened to Jesus one time. Remember when Matthew put on a big party?” Poppy thought, then she said she remembered Mum had read them a Bible story about Matthew’s party. “Well,” dad said, “some people saw the party and said unkind nasty things about him and Jesus.” Jack wanted to know what Jesus did, and dad said he just told those people to be kind.
“And I’ll be kind to you right now,” dad said with one of his big, beaming smiles. “Let me help you bring the table and the empty glasses inside.”