Chapter Five: The Sure Thing
“Have you still got your snow cone maker?” Autumn asked when she arrived at my house.
Aunt Crystal had gotten me a deluxe snow cone maker for Christmas. It came with bubble gum, cherry, grape, and watermelon flavors. Although I had yet to use it, I remember begging her for it before Christmas.
“It’s still in the box,” I answered.
“It’s supposed to be scorching hot today. We could set up a stand on the curb and sell snow cones to passersby for $1 a snow cone. We should be able to make the money you need in no time. We might even have some money left over,” Autumn said optimistically.
“Great idea. If we have any money left over, I can check on the prices of that Ph.D. thing that Dad was talking about. "Let’s get started!” I exclaimed.
Dad let me borrow a dollar to buy a bag of ice from the convenience store. I promised to pay him back after we sold a few snow cones, but he told me not to worry about it. He said that it would make him proud to see me multiply the $1 bag of ice into money for the carnival.
We washed out an old cooler that we found in the shed to store the ice in. I think Dad once used the cooler to store the fish he caught on a weekend fishing trip. It took quite a while to remove the stench of fish from the cooler, but we scrubbed and scrubbed until there was no more evidence that the cooler had once been used to store a bunch of dead fish. A dead fish flavored snow cone would probably not be a favorite with customers.
After washing the cooler out, we made signs from an old cardboard box. We were able to make four signs from the old box. We used thumbtacks to hang them on the telephone poles of each street corner around the block. Everyone who passed by was sure to see our advertisements, Beat the heat. Snow cones only $1.
As soon as we had the signs hung, we drug the cooler, snow cone maker, and flavor bottles to the curb. Dad brought us two lawn chairs to sit in while we waited on customers. By noon, we were set up for business.
In a matter of minutes, we had our first customer. A man in a Jeep stopped by and rolled down his window.
“Sure is hot today,” he said.
“Would you like a cold, refreshing snow cone?” I asked.
“What flavors have you got?” he asked.
“Bubblegum, cherry, grape, and watermelon,” I replied.
“Let me try watermelon,” he said.
I scooped some ice from the cooler and inserted it into the snow cone maker. The snow cone maker crushed the ice into the cone shaped cups that came with it. The snow cone maker came with 50 cups.
“I hope we don’t run out of cups,” I whispered to Autumn.
After the snow cone maker was finished crushing the ice, I poured the watermelon flavor over the ice. Since he was our first customer, I filled the cup to the rim with the watermelon syrup.
“One watermelon snow cone,” I said proudly as I handed him the cup.
He threw his head back and drank all of the juice from the cup. The man stood there for a moment with a strange look on his face.
“It’s a little tart,” he said.
“Would you like a refill?” I asked.
“No thanks, I’m cooled down now,” he responded. “You do deserve a tip, though, for your hard work,” he said as he handed me another dollar. “I’d like to see more young people applying themselves like you two.”
I’m not exactly sure what he meant by that, but he sounded a lot like my dad. Nevertheless, we were off to a great start. It was only 12:10 and we had made $2 off of one snow cone. He must have thought it tasted pretty good to pay $2 for it. Tart must be a foreign word for great or something. We might have to consider raising the price if everyone thinks they’re that good.
About another ten minutes later, our second customer arrived at the curb in front of our house. It was Mrs. Barnes.
“You two are quite the entrepreneurs,” Mrs. Barnes said. “Can I try a grape snow cone?”
“Sure thing,” Autumn said as she prepared the crushed ice.
Mrs. Barnes sipped the snow cone Autumn handed her slowly. Her left eyebrow raised like that wrestler, The Rock, after swallowing.
“Interesting,” she stated as she handed Autumn a five dollar bill. “Keep the change,” she said as she got in her car and drove off.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “She must really like grape snow cones. You must have made hers just the way she likes it.”
“Do you want me to make you one?” Autumn asked.
“No, we’d better save the ice for the customers, I said. “Some of it has already started melting.”
We were off to a good start. We had made $7 in the first thirty minutes. The next half-hour, though, seemed to last forever. We didn’t have a single customer during the entire time period. Our ice was melting quickly, and we were starting to feel the effects of sitting in the sun for an hour. We decided that we would try to attract customers ourselves. We modified our signs slightly to read, Beat the heat! Snow cones ahead!
We decided that we might be able to attract more customers by holding the signs and directing customers in the right direction. We decided that someone should stay with the cooler, while the other tried to draw customers to our business. It was mutually decided that we should flip a quarter to determine who would stay with the cooler. I chose heads, while Autumn was left with tails. I always choose heads. Even though there’s a 50% chance that the quarter could land either way, it seems to always land on heads. Once again, the quarter landed with George Washington’s face up. Autumn sluggishly walked to the one end of the block with her sign, while I held my sign up by the curb.
After about ten minutes, Autumn finally directed someone to our establishment. A gray haired man in a van rolled down his window.
“Have you got grape?” he asked.
“Sure do,” I replied. I quickly fixed him a grape snow cone and handed it to him through the window. “That’ll be $1,” I said.
“No problem,” he said as he handed me a $1 bill from his wallet.
The man rolled up his window and began driving off as soon as he gave me his money. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist or a big spender. He was the first customer who only spent $1.
The man drove about 100 ft when he came to a sudden stop. “He must be coming back for more,” I thought to myself. Instead, he rolled down his window and threw the snow cone out before speeding off. He must have been pretty hot to have finished the snow cone that quick. He should have bought more, though. There’s a $100 fine in Bradford for littering. I’m sure he’d probably rather spend his money helping a kid raise money for the carnival than pay fines with it. I picked the snow cone up from the street to make sure that he didn’t get into any trouble. He needs to break that habit. I won’t be around to pick up his trash every time he decides to chunk something out the window.
No sooner than I had picked up the man’s trash, Autumn stumbled back to the curb.
“It’s too hot to be doing this much longer,” she muttered.
“We can’t quit now. I’ve only got $8 so far,” I protested.
Autumn lifted the lid to the cooler and peeked inside.
“Our ice is just about all gone,” she pointed out.
My grandparents pulled into the drive as I was pondering our situation.
“What do we have here?” Grandpa Howard asked.
“We’re selling snow cones to raise money for the carnival tonight,” I answered.
“We’ll take two,” Grandma Becky insisted.
“Give us two watermelon,” Grandpa Howard said.
I scooped up the last of our ice and handed each of them a watermelon cone. Grandpa Howard watches his money like an eagle watches her eggs. It’s usually nearly impossible to get him to spend any money.
“How much do I owe you?” He asked.
“That’ll be $2,” I responded.
He frowned as he reached into his wallet to hand me the two $1 bills. Grandma Becky nudged him and told him to quit picking on me.<
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Grandma Becky slowly began to sip on her cone. I knew that she really didn’t want one, but I was glad that she wanted to help me out. Her lips puckered like she had eaten a sour grape as she drank the cone.
“This must be sour bubble gum flavor. I know how you kids these days like the sour flavored candy. I wish you had warned me,” she laughed.
“This is too strong,” Grandpa Howard added. “Can we try another flavor?”
“We’re out of ice,” I answered. “Can I get a refund then?” he joked.
I didn’t think it was too funny. As far as I knew, it wasn’t supposed to be sour bubble gum flavor. I just figured that there was something wrong with their taste buds.
“Serina’s trying to poison us,” Grandpa Howard informed my dad as he came outside to meet my grandparents. “These snow cones will make you draw up like a dried prune,” he joked.
“Serina, let me see that bottle of flavor you were using,” my dad said.
He began to laugh as he read the label on the bottle.
“Did you add water to any of these flavor bottles?” he asked.
“No, we poured it straight over the ice,” I answered.
“These flavor bottles are concentrates. Each bottle makes one gallon of flavor,” he informed me. “No wonder it tasted so bitter.”
“Don’t worry. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again,” Grandpa Howard added as he and Dad walked in the house.
His words of encouragement did little to make me feel better. Even if I wanted to try again, how would I get any customers after giving them a bad snow cone? They were expecting to quench their thirst, but I just made it worse. On top of all that, I still didn't have all the money I needed for the carnival.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Grandma Becky said as Autumn and I began cleaning up. “How much money did you make?”
“We made $10, and I made $4 selling cucumbers earlier, but I need $20 for the carnival. Dad said that the only way I could go was if I raised all the money myself,” I answered.
“I think you did a good job,” she said as she slipped me a $10 bill from her purse. “You deserve to go to the carnival after sitting out in this sun all afternoon. Just don’t say anything about this to your grandpa.”
I gave her a big hug before she went inside to join Dad and Grandpa Howard. Now, I’ll get to ride the Cage of Fear with Autumn. Our snow cone venture didn’t work out as planned, but everything worked out ok after all. Whenever I am in need, Grandma Becky has always turned out to be the sure thing.