Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Going Global global (global) adj. Throughout the world; refers to expanding one's market beyond the immediate area of production. On Saturday morning, Jessie slept in. And even when she opened her eyes—at 9:05!—she still felt tired. How can I wake up tired? she wondered as she buried her face in her pillow and dozed off. Five minutes later she was awake for real, remembering why she was so tired. Yesterday's lemonade stand had been the hardest work of her life. Face painting, hair braiding, nail polishing—it had sounded like such a good idea. Jessie had been sure that every kid in the neighborhood would line up to buy a cup of lemonade.

But that was the problem. Every kid had lined up for lemonade—and then wanted face painting and hair braiding and fingernail polishing and toenail polishing. One boy had asked for face paintings on both cheeks, both arms, and his stomach. One girl begged for lots of little braids with ribbons woven in. And the nail polishing! They all wanted different colors and decals, and it was impossible to get them to sit still long enough for the polish to dry. "We're going to run out of lemonade," Megan had said to Jessie at noon, as the line stretched all the way to the street. "Pour half-cups instead of full ones," whispered Jessie. "It has to last." Jessie and Megan had each made twenty-four dollars on lemonade, but they'd worked eight hours to do it. At the end of the day, they'd agreed: A good idea, but not worth it! After breakfast, Jessie pulled out her lock box and sat on her bed. She kept the box hidden in her closet on a shelf under some sweaters. She kept the

key in a plastic box in her desk drawer. The plastic box was disguised to look exactly like a pack of gum. You would never know it was hollow and had a secret sliding panel on its side. Jessie unlocked the box and opened the lid. First she took out the three torn slips of paper. There was one for value-added and one for goodwill. There was also a new one that Jessie had added last night: Jessie lined up all three scraps of paper on the bed beside her. She wasn't sure why she was saving these words, but she felt like they belonged in her lock box. Next, she took out her lemonade earnings. Every day, Megan had squealed over how much money

they'd made. But every day, Jessie had known: It's not enough. It's not going to be enough to win. Jessie counted the money. So far, she had earned forty dollars. It was a lot of money. But it wasn't nearly enough. She still needed to earn sixty more dollars. And today was Saturday. Only two more selling days before she and Evan counted their earnings on Sunday night. How was she going to sell enough lemonade to earn sixty dollars in two days? She couldn't. That was the problem. No kid could earn a hundred dollars in just five days by selling lemonade. The profit margin was too small. She knew because she'd used her calculator to figure it out last night. The numbers said it all. There was no way two girls in one neighborhood could sell 375 cups of lemonade. Nobody wanted that much lemonade, no matter how hot the day was. Jessie looked at the money in her lock box and the page of calculations on her desk. Any other kid would have quit. But Jessie wasn't a quitter. (On

good days, Jessie's mom called her persistent. On bad days, she told her she just didn't know when enough was enough.)

Jessie reached for Ten Bright Ideas to Light Up