A Slice of Orange

Lily pressed her flowered handkerchief to her forehead and wondered for the fifth time that day why she had signed up for the Festival of the Earth event. The May sun beating on the roof of her canopy turned it into a DIY heat lamp. Stacks of her ecological thriller sat ignored on her table. The crowd was more interested in the pastry shop’s tent next door, the line for lunch turnovers stretching down the mown pathway from the parking lot.

She’d hoped to sell at least several copies of her book Unplugged, a fictional tale about a full-off-the-grid society; after all, its theme aligned nicely with the festival’s. In fact, the vendor on the other side of her was hawking solar panels, and she considered flagging everyone who passed her up to let them know her book was relevant—her main character had four panels on the roof of her cottage.

It didn’t help that the cumin-and-coriander aroma of the turnovers made her stomach grumble. Her packed lunch of peanut butter and jelly had lost all appeal in comparison. 

Another hour in, and one book sold, to the mother of a family of three littles ready, she said, for something “more mature than Sesame Street.” Lily tucked away the cash in her pouch and watched the family stream toward the kids’ crafts tent—a place where youngsters could launch gigantic bubbles to float elongated and short-lived across the nearby park field.

She sighed. Even with the sunny weather, the day was a bust so far. Not ready to give up yet, though, she left her booth long enough to introduce herself to the solar vendor. Networking was important at sales events. Busy in the full sun, the vendor was bent over the electrical hookup for the largest of his panels, muttering under his breath. He didn’t seem bothered by the heat, even as Lily fanned herself with an event program. 

“Just wanted to mention that the novel I’m selling today is about folks who embrace solar.” Lily stuck out a hand, but withdrew it when the vendor ignored her. “That’s a nice fit with what you’re selling. You know, about being unplugged.” When he finally looked up, he squinted at her with a frown. “Nobody reads books any more.” 

The hell they don’t. She stomped back to her table, threading her way through another wave of potential tire-kickers for the solar cells. “Stop by my booth next,” she called to them, with a friendly wave. “I’ve got free snacks!”

But her mini-bags of pretzels were no match for the tasty turnover tent, and eventually Lily succumbed, taking a spot at the end of the long queue. She hoped the turnover supply would last until she arrived at the front of the line. 

“You’re Lily Spruce, right?” The young woman at the turnover counter wrapped up a chicken turnover for her, but waved away the bills Lily offered. Her name tag read Rachael in precise hand-lettering. “I read your book on a friend’s recommendation. Really, really good. This is my contribution toward your authorial efforts.”

“Wow,” Lily managed to say. “Thanks.” Back at her booth, she savored the unexpected treat—from an unexpected fan. The day was worth it for that, if nothing else, she decided. And a breeze picked up, carrying away some of the tent’s stifling warmth and bringing with it the faint rumble of thunder.

It was then that she noticed the advancing cloud bank. Checking her phone, she skimmed the severe weather warning. As though one of the next-door solar panels had activated, the energy of the  crowd changed to one of urgency. Already the wind increased, making the canopy tents pop and threatening to send them aloft. The line dwindled to nothing for Rachael, the turnover vendor. The kids’ craft tent emptied, and people hurried toward the parking area.

Lily packed away her books, wrapping them in plastic against the approaching rain, and pulled out her rain slicker. The smell of rain mixed with the lingering aroma of cumin and coffee.

In the next booth, Rachael struggled against the wind to take down her canopy. Lily sprang into action. “Let me help. And then maybe you can help me with mine.”

Rachael looked up, surprised. “Sure thing.”

Together they collapsed the canopy, working in a light mist. Then they tackled Lily’s, and slipped the tent into its sleeve just as the mist turned to rain. 

The park stretched out beyond them, now empty. Only a few vendors remained; the rest had fled. 

Rachael pulled her wheeled cart onto the pathway, heading for the parking area. “So much for a festival for the Earth,” she said. “A pity it’s rained out.”

Wasn’t that the definition of unplugged? Lily pictured her novel’s protagonist, facing whatever Mother Nature threw at her: storm, drought, flood, heavy snow. You were thankful for sunny skies when you got them, but the changing weather kept things interesting.

“It’s all part of life,” Lily said with a shrug. “But hey, we can make the most of it. Let’s go grab a beer and commiserate.”

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