Life Gave Her Lemons

The Lemons

Margaret said nothing.

Patricia searched her face for a response and waited for a reply.

"You...what?"

Margaret now started to fear for her own sanity. Maybe her hearing was going? Maybe Patricia was talking perfect sense and something was wrong with her?

Patricia beamed at her, nigh on the point of bursting as she continued: "It's the lemons, Marg! My Eurekas can make you young again! Can't you feel it working already? Can't you feel the warmth rushing through you? I can see it working in you!"

Margaret shifted under Patricia's ceaseless gaze and tried to ease her hands away, but Patricia held them tight.

"Pat, what are you talking about, hon?"

"I know what you're thinking, Marg, but I'm not crazy...truly! I found a" —Patricia searched for the right word—"a special way to grow them. And now, whenever you eat or drink anything from my Eurekas, they make you young again. That's my secret. That's why I've been looking so fantastic these past few years. You're so smart, Marg, you couldn't have not seen and must have been wondering what's going on. I couldn't leave you behind anymore. I want to share it with you so we can both stay young forever."

Margaret stared at her friend, agape.

She started to speak a few times but was at a loss.

"Come on, Marg!" Patricia exclaimed. "You've noticed the differences, haven't you? It's ok, we can talk about it now, and you can ask me anything."

Margaret hesitated a moment longer, trying to find a way to avoid telling her friend that she hadn't noticed anything. To her, Patricia looked just as old and worn down by life as she ever had. She decided to avoid it at all costs.

"What special way?" she managed at last.

"Hm?"

"What's the special way you grow them?"

"Oh that." Patricia released one of Margaret's hands to wave the comment away. "The girls help me."

The explanation hung in the air as Margaret waited for her to elaborate, but nothing was forthcoming.

"What girls?" she prompted.

"The girls, you know, the homeless girls I work with," Patricia snapped and blinked her eyes hard a few times before staring at the lemon squares. She seemed to be frustrated that was what Margaret wanted to talk about.

"Do they help you tend to the tree?"

"I suppose you could say it like that, yes."

Margaret shook her head in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Well...hah. Is this really important?"

"I just want to understand," Margaret reasoned.

"Alright. I suppose that's fair," Patricia conceded. She gave Margaret a small, quick smile, which Margaret returned.

"So you know how sometimes I'll invite the homeless girls here?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, after I've sent them for a nice hot shower and given them something to eat, I've found that if I kill them and bury their bodies under the lemon tree, the roots absorb their essence up into the lemons!"

Margaret blinked. 

Her mouth dry and heart pounding in her chest, she held her breath. She pushed her glasses back up on her nose and stared at her friend in horror, unsure if this was all in jest. Patricia had said it all in such a blunt manner, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.