“So, selling much lemonade?” I asked.
“Some,” he said. “Well within our sales projections for this month. Lower summer temperatures have depressed the lemonade market in general, and last winter’s citrus freeze meant higher overhead. We’ve had to pass some of the cost on to the consumer.”
“No kidding,” I said.
He shot me a look. “Fortunately, we have some leeway thanks to a subsidy from a regulatory entity.”
“The Department of Agriculture?”
“No, our mom.” The little girl came back. She didn’t look happy.
“You missed a payment on a JC Penny credit card eight years ago,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell us about that earlier?”
“What’s the big deal?” I said. “I made a double payment the next month. And anyway, it was eight years ago. You were a gamete eight years ago.”
“Well, I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to offer you a line of credit,” she said. “You’re just not an acceptable risk for us.”
“Fine,” I said. “You know what? I’m going to that other lemonade stand. You kids are about to learn a lesson about the free market.” I walked down the street to the other stand. There was a cheerful little tyke there with an appealing smile.
“How much for the lemonade?” I asked.
“It’s just a quarter,” he said.
“Great,” I said. “I’ll take a cup.”
“Oh, you want a cup?” he asked. “The cup is $2.50.”
The final piece in this collection is both the earliest piece written—it’s from 1991—and is different in form (it’s a poem) and tone (it’s not funny, at least not intentionally), but I like it and I think it’s okay to exit on a change-up. The character in the poem is Penelope, the wife of Odysseus, and it helps to know a little about The Odyssey before reading. I wrote it for a girl, of course. It didn’t work. But not long after that I met the woman who is now my wife, so I’m fine with that. And I still like the poem. I hope you like it too.
Penelope
I.
There is no difference between far and near.
Perspective is all
A mountain and a rock that falls from its incline
Are shaped by the same forces
Separated only by scale
And the attentions of the observer.
I keep this in mind as I unravel my work
And tear it down to its component thread.
Today’s design was a masterpiece
Hours of planning and execution
Done in by a casual pull at the end of the day.
It is no matter.
The action is lost in the larger scope
Today’s destruction a building block
For a greater work.
Down the hall voices call to me
Insistent suitors demand my presence.
Soon enough I will join them
Some honest enough, others something less
They will ask about the progress of my work
And I will tell them that it remains unfinished.
We will not be talking of the same work
But it is no matter.
There is no difference between far and near.
Perspective is all.
II.
I don’t know whether to blame you or your stupid war.
It is easiest to blame the war
The insistent beating drum
The pretense of noble purpose
Masking banality so insipid
As to stagger the observer.
But you were always one of the best
Not the strongest, but the smartest
Not forceful, but with a craft
That became its own definition.
You, who upstaged ten years of anguish
With one night and a gift.
You are magnificent
A prize for poets.
It’s hard to understand how one of your talents
Has managed to stay from me for so long.
I imagined your return so soon after your victory
A homecoming which would shine to the heavens
Pure in its emotion and joy.
Yet now you are as far away as when you began
Your arrival a distant dream
Your homecoming unfulfilled.
Your war is over
But you are not home.
If there is blame
It is yours.
But it is no matter.
It makes no sense to talk of blame
When circumstances rule the day
No sense for anger
When chance plots your course
Whatever mysteries you hide from me
I know your heart.
Your homecoming lives there
It lives in my heart too
Two views of the same moment
Two dreams with the same end.
III.
My suitors engage me in idle banter.
I am sometimes painted as a noble sufferer
Enduring unwanted attentions
But in truth, I enjoy the diversions
My suitors entertain me, amuse me
And no few arouse me
Their endless chatter every now and then
Showing promise of something greater
Of depths that dare to be plumbed.
They appear worthy suitors
And indeed some of them are
But there is not one who shines so bright
As to dim the memory of you.
The curves of their arms and legs
Call to mind your own sweet body
Their lips and eyes
Recall your own gentle face
Your voice
Calls distantly from their throats.
Every one that comes to me
To cajole, whisper or impress
Becomes a window
Through which I see you.
I smile frequently when I am with my suitors
And they smile back
Convinced that the pleasure in my eyes
Is brought by their form.
But it is not them I see.
Perspective is all.
IV.
My work is now unraveled
And my intentions secure for another day.
Tomorrow I will create another
And unravel it, each tomorrow
Until you return to my shore.
It is a difficult task
Building a creation from which
All that is seen is its daily destruction.
It is a work that only I can see
Its completion a thing only I desire.
It is no matter.
There is no difference between far and near
Perspective is all.
Perhaps from the distance where you are
You can see my larger work.
Use it as your beacon
And have your homecoming at last.
Copyright Information
“Alien Animal Encounters” Copyright © 2001 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Strange Horizons, October 2001.
“Missives from Possible Futures #1: Alternate History Search Results” Copyright © 2007 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Subterranean Magazine, February 2007.
“Pluto Tells All” Copyright © 2007 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Subterranean Magazine, May 2007.
“Denise Jones, Superbooker” Copyright © 2008 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Subterranean Magazine, September 2008.
“When the Yogurt Took Over” Copyright © 2010 by John Scalzi. First appeared on Whatever, October 2010. http://whatever.scalzi.com/2010/10/02/when-the-yogurt-took-over-a-short-story/
“The Other Large Thing” Copyright © 2011 by John Scalzi. First appeared on Twitter, via TweetDeck’s Deck.Ly, August 5, 2011.
“The State of Super Villainy” Copyright © 2008 by John Scalzi. First appeared on Whatever, Dece
mber 2008. http://whatever.scalzi.com/2008/12/08/a-story-for-a-donation-fiction-to-help-save-an-sf-writers-home/
“New Directive for Employee-Manxtse Interactions” Copyright © 2005 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Sketches of Daily Life: Two Missives From Possible Futures, Subterranean Press, 2005.
“To Sue the World” Copyright © 2012 by John Scalzi. First appeared on promotional tour for Redshirts, 2012. First available as an ebook Subterranean Press, 2015.
“How I Keep Myself Amused on Long Flights: A Twitter Tale” Copyright © 2013 by John Scalzi. First appeared on Twitter, April 20, 2013.
“How I Keep Myself Amused on Long Flights, Part II: The Gremlining” Copyright © 2014 by John Scalzi. First appeared on Twitter, April 10, 2014.
“Life on Earth: Human-Alien Relations” Copyright © 2008 by John Scalzi. First appeared in Subterranean Press Newsletter, 2008.
“Morning Announcements at the Lucas Interspecies School for Troubled Youth” Copyright © 2010 by John Scalzi. First appeared at w00tstock, 2010. First time in print in this volume.
“Your Smart Appliances Talk About You Behind Your Back” Copyright © 2016 by John Scalzi.
“The AI are Absolutely Positively Without a Doubt Not Here to End Humanity, Honest” Copyright © 2016 by John Scalzi.
“Important Holidays on Gronghu” Copyright © 2016 by John Scalzi.
“Cute Adorable Extortionists” Copyright © 1998 by John Scalzi. First appeared in American Online, 1998.
“Penelope” Copyright © 1991 by John Scalzi.