Lemonade

I spy a man up ahead, shirt off in the heat, shoveling the yard. Who the hell is working in this heat? Granted, it’s not that hot yet; after all, I’m out here walking. But to be working in the Heat Dome sun? Seems a bit insane to me.

            As I draw closer, I see that it’s a young man in a tan shirt, not shirtless. He’s working up a sweat, his dark hair dripping as he steps on the shovel. I say good morning and then can’t help but comment:

            “You’ve got a hot job this morning!” He’s in the process of replacing the dead grass with bark, digging up the dirt first, then laying down the cardboard, then spreading the bark on top of this surface.

            “Yeah,” he stops, grins at me, tired but friendly. “We took yesterday off so gonna see what we can get done this morning.”

            “I need to do that to my dead lawn,” I note, thinking how I’ve been meaning to do this major landscape transformation for years.

            “Yeah, we’ve been on Craigslist, asking for cardboard donations.” He shakes his head, laughing softly. “It’s a job alright.”

            “Yeah, I’d need to get someone to do it for me. You need a lot of strength to do it yourself.” I note his young, fit body, the strength still there. Where did all my strength go?

            I think it’s in my brain now.

            A young woman approaches from the sideyard, “Hi,” she calls out cheerfully.

            “Hey,” I say. “Did you guys just move in?” I’d noticed the peach house on the corner here of Esmond and 32^nd for sale this summer.

            “Yes, in August,” she says. “Where do you live?”

            “Just down the street a few blocks here on 32^nd.”

            “Cool,” she says, pushing a heated strand of brown hair out of her eyes. She’s dressed in very short cutoffs, her pale legs screaming to get out, her tank top barely holding in her ample bosom.

            I can see where her strength lies.

            “Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” I proclaim as I watch Liv approaching from across the street, her big floppy hat adorned with huge yellow plastic flowers held in place by a sky-blue ribbon.

            “Well, hello!” she calls out. “I brought you some lemonade!” She hands the clear plastic container filled with the cooling beverage to the young man.

            “WOW!” he says. “Thank you!”

            “You’re very welcome,” she says. And, I think, did she see me out here talking to her new neighbors and decide to make this overture? Or does she do this for all the neighbors working in their yards?

            “Have you met your new neighbors?” I ask her.

            “No, I have not. I’m Liv.”

            “Todd,” he says. “Milly,” she says. “Carol,” I say.

            “Wow,” Todd repeats. “This really hits the spot.”

            “It’s not that cold,” Liv responds. “And I didn’t add any sweetener.”

            “It tastes great!” he gushes, taking a large gulp and then handing it over to Milly.

            I think how I’d like a gulp, too. I’m so hot! Why I’m out here in the heat is beyond me. Though, frankly, it’s early still. Not that hot. Unless you’re trying to replace your lawn with cardboard and bark! Honestly, I don’t get why these young people are out here. New young homeowners. They’re a different breed. Full of hope and energy. The house will be theirs as soon as they make all the improvements. The bark for the front lawn. A new paint job perhaps? I mean, who would want to live in a peach-colored house? Then planting. A strawberry tree. Some drought-resistant flora and fauna.

            And then the dog. The baby. The jobs.

            It’s a young life.

            It gives me hope and makes me happy despite the blazing Heat Dome that has descended upon the Bay Area. Evidently, there has been nothing like this heat before. The Dome is dangerous and long-lived. Heat warnings abound. Our usual hike for the Monday holiday, Labor Day, in Wildcat Canyon is on hold. All the East Bay parks are closed because of the heat. I don’t remember this happening before.

            It’s our new normal---Climate Crisis. I shudder inwardly. What can I do?

            I turn to go, “Well, nice meeting you both,” I say, “I better keep walking before it gets too hot! See you at the pool, Liv! Liv and I swim together at the Plunge and Kennedy High.” Why I tell the young couple this I have no idea. I sure don’t want them coming to the pool. It’s crowded enough.

            Todd waves bye and takes another shovel stab at the hot dirt.

            Liv and Milly continue chatting. “Nice hat, Liv!” I call out.

            “Why thank you!”  she beams.

            I start up the block humming Chopin as a couple of crows caw at me from the telephone wires above. The sun bears down on me; I feel the heat that is to come. As I turn the corner onto McBryde, I think how there must be a story in this encounter.

            I’ll have to think about that. After I get home and make some lemonade, take a cooling shower, and try to stay cool…..