The next morning, I woke up determined not to let Mr. Griggs intimidate me.
So what if he had a fancy food truck? So what if he had snow cones and hot dogs and cotton candy? I had something he didn’t have: I knew this park. I knew these kids. I’d been building relationships here for weeks.
I loaded my red wagon with both coolers, still packed with most of yesterday’s inventory. At least I wouldn’t have to restock today.
When I arrived at the park, the second day of the tournament was already underway. Kids in fresh uniforms were warming up, parents were setting up their chairs again, and coaches were giving pep talks.
And there, in the same spot as yesterday, was Griggs’ Grub.
The music was even louder today. The signs were even brighter. And there was already a line of customers waiting at his window.
I set up my table in my usual spot and arranged my display. A few parents nodded at me as they walked by, but most of them seemed drawn to the spectacle of the food truck.
“Morning, Kiora!” called Mrs. Patterson, whose son was on one of the teams. “How’s business?”
“Good!” I said, trying to sound confident. “I’ve got cold drinks and snacks ready for the games.”
She smiled and kept walking. Toward the food truck.
By ten-thirty, I’d sold exactly two candy bars and one bag of chips. At this time yesterday, I’d already had a steady stream of customers.
I watched as kid after kid walked past my table without even glancing at my sign. They all had their eyes on the bright yellow truck with its flashing lights and carnival music.
“Can I get a snow cone?” a little girl asked her dad as they walked by.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he said, steering her toward Mr. Griggs.
I felt invisible.
Around noon, I saw a familiar face approaching. It was Tommy, the sweaty kid from yesterday who’d dramatically thrown himself at my table like he was dying of thirst.
“Hey!” I called out, waving. “Want another water?”
He looked at me, then at the food truck, then back at me. His eyes were practically hypnotized by the spinning snow cone machine. “Um, actually, I was going to try one of those snow cones. They look really cool.”
I watched my most loyal customer get sucked into the rainbow vortex of Griggs’ Grub like a moth to a very colorful flame.
By two o’clock, I’d made a grand total of $10.50. Two candy bars, three sodas, one bag of chips, and three water bottles. Yesterday, I’d made over a hundred dollars. Today, I felt like I was invisible.
I sat behind my table, watching Mr. Griggs serve customer after customer. He was in his element, calling out to people, making jokes, creating a whole show around selling snacks.
“Step right up!” he boomed. “Get your ice-cold treats! Beat the heat with a rainbow snow cone!”
Kids were laughing and pointing at his colorful display. Parents were taking pictures of their children with their snow cones. It was like a party over there.
And here I was, sitting alone at my little table with my simple snacks, feeling smaller by the minute.
I was starting to pack up early when I noticed something that made my stomach drop even further.
A police officer was walking across the park.
And he was heading straight for my table.