Sometimes, you gotta put your hustle on hold and have some fun. Lincoln and Johnny were all about that profit, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. They lived and breathed money-making. Their mother called them Shylocks, which meant "good businessmen" (Lincoln thought) and they were. Over the years, they had honed their bidness skillz to the point that they could sell coal to Newcastle and mittens to Hawwians. Johnny had the gift of gab - he could talk the pope into sinning and a mob boss into spilling the beans on every illegal thing he'd ever done. Lincoln was the brains. He knew human psychology the way Dad knew wrestling. You have to play mind games with people because the truth doesn't sell. Lies do. That's why all those beer commercials show guys buying it and suddenly getting women and jet skis. If they showed who really bought their product - lonely and broken down alcoholics - no one would want it.

During their long and checkered career, he and Johnny had sold everything from Swiss cheese to state secrets. No, really, a little Chinese boy used to live down the street and his father wound up being a spy. Lincoln and Johnny convinced him that they had a bunch of intel, then sold it to him. LOL. From what Lincoln heard, he passed it onto the Chinese government, and when they found out it was BS, they called him back to China and put him in prison. So not only did they make money, they saved Uncle Sam's butt. Win-win.

They were obsessed with making money not because they were greedy, but because they were broke. They lived in a nice house in the suburbs but their family didn't have very much money. If they wanted new bikes, new clothes, toys, video games, snacks, sodas, or literally anything else, they had to work for it. They used to try and bum money off their Dad but he told them "Go make your own."

So they did.

At any given time, they each had at least fifty bucks stashed away. Johnny liked to spend and everywhere he went - Wal-Mart, the candy shop, Burpin' Burger - he made it rain like a drunken sailor on shore leave. Lincoln was more judicious with his spending. Oh, he liked having things and he could blow through a fifty like nothing, but he hated the clawing hopelessness of being completely out of money. It was like being slowly suffocated. Forget that.

Because everything in this world cost something, he and Johnny had to always hustle. From sunup to sundown, they were earning money, or talking about earning money, or planning to earn money. It got really tiresome. They fixed bikes, serviced their own vending machines, performed music downtown, did kids' homework (five bucks a pop, fifteen for science fair projects and stuff), they even scoured the hills around Royal Woods for discarded scrap metal and copper wire (of which there was a lot). They mowed lawns in the summer, shoveled sidewalks in the winter, sold lemonade and hot chocolate, they made their own Christmas and Halloween decorations, held monthly yard sales - anything to make a buck.

Lincoln didn't relish always being in money mode, but you do what you gotta do. His father taught him that: The guy worked nine and twelve hour days to put food on the table, and he never said "I don't feel like it today." Lincoln watched that man go to work with back pain, the flu, splitting headaches, 103 fevers - Dad never stopped because he knew if he did, his family would stop. It struck Lincoln as whiny and babylike to complain about fixing bicycles when Dad was busting his hump at a factory all day. He and Johnny had it easy.

But even Dad had days off. Saturday and Sunday, he parked his butt in front of the TV and didn't move again until Monday morning. He napped, watched forty year old wrestling matches on the WWE Network, and drank copious amounts of Tab Cola. Basically, all of the things he was passionate about.

Lincoln and Johnny both looked up to their father, even if his obsession with pro wrestling was annoying, and they used him as a blueprint for how to live their lives. Therefore, they took the occasional day off from hustling. The weekend was prime time for them since they were stuck at school during the week, so it didn't happen every weekend.

Today, Sunday, August 18, they woke early and went downstairs to eat breakfast. The house was silent and wrapped in shadows and they made every effort to be as quiet as possible so they didn't wake their parents. In the kitchen, they poured themselves bowls of cereal and sat at the table, Johnny intently studying the puzzle and on the back of the box.

They had a lot planned today.

Last month, Lana saw a movie about skateboarding and decided she wanted to skateboard too. She bought a board and a membership to the skate park in town and went there every afternoon to practice.

She was awful.

Lincoln and Johnny only found out Tuesday afternoon when they went to service the vending machine they installed at the park's snack bar. "Dude, look, it's Lana," Johnny said. Lincoln turned just as Lana's board shot out from under her and she fell to her butt.

"Ouch," she mumbled.

She got back up, grabbed her board, and got on, only to wobble and toppled off again.

"Dang it."

They watched her for a good five minutes, and she bombed harder than Nagasaki. Finally, Johnny sighed. "She needs help."

As it just so happened, Johnny was a master skateboarder, one of his various skills that only seems to come up when he randomly needs them.

"Yeah she does," Lincoln said. "How much are we gonna charge her?"

Johnny thought for a moment, a contemplative hum trembling on his lips. Lana falling flat on her face and sighing her dejection decided him. "Nothing," he said.

They went over and helped Lana to her feet. "Not bad," Johnny said. "You just need a little spit and polish."

"I suck," Lana sighed.

"No, you don't," Johnny said. "Tell you what. Meet us here Saturday morning and I'll give you a few pointers."

"You skateboard?" Lana asked.

"I sure do."

"I didn't know that."

"You do now."

Lincoln planned to hang with Maggie on Saturday, so he called her and invited her along since she skateboarded here and there. On Thursday, while they were fixing Lynn's bike for the umpteenth time, Ronnie Anne came over and asked if they wanted to hang out on Saturday. "We got plans," Johnny said.

"What plans?" she demanded.

Lincoln told her, and she shrugged. "Okay, I'll tag along. I got a friend in from the city and I was gonna take her there anyway."

Way to invite yourself, RA.

Presently, Johnny sat the box aside and took a bite of his cereal. "Text Maggie and see if she's ready."

Lincoln texted Maggie, and she responded in less than two minutes. Yah. U coming to get me?

"She wants us to pick her up," Lincoln said.

"Dude, she lives in the complete opposite direction of the skate park. Why?"

"Whatever, you ahead then. I'll catch up."

Ten minutes later, they left the house, Johnny going one way and Lincoln the other. The morning was warm and hazy and the only sound was the rattle of AC units up and down the street. Maggie's house was on the edge of the Brierwood Neighborhood, where all the area's upper middle class types lived. It was a big two story brick affair with a slate roof and a green front door. Lincoln stood at the end of the walkway and texted Maggie. A few minutes later, she came out in a pair of shorts and a green plaid shirt over a black T. Lincoln's heartbeat sped up like it did every time he saw Maggie.

She walked up and stopped. A skateboard was tucked under one arm. "Hey."

"Hey," he said.

Her hand crept into his and they started to walk. "How bad is she?" she asked.

When Lincoln talked to her about going to the skatepark with him, he mentioned Lana. He may have played up the fact that he and his brother were helping a little girl learn how to skate so that he looked good. Hey, girls like it when guys are sweet and gentle and all that other mushy gushy junk.

"She just needs a little guidance," he said, because telling the truth - brah, she's trash, we're wasting our time - would have made him sound like a megajerk.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached the skatepark, a confusion of half pikes, full pikes, steps, rails, and other things that Lincoln couldn't name surrounded by a chain link fence and situated on the corner of Maple and Pine. Even though it was early, a ton of kids were already skating in the big, empty pool looking thing and hanging out by the snack bar. Lincoln spotted Johnny sitting on a bench next to Lana, who busied herself strapping pads to her knees and elbows. Sid sat next to him with a camcorder. Ronnie Anne sat on his other side and a tall blonde girl that put Lincoln in mind of a crane stood slightly to one side, her head down and her hands shoved into the pockets of her blue hoodie.

"Who's that?" Maggie asked.

"No clue," Lincoln said.

They walked over, and Ronnie Anne nodded. "'Sup, Snow White? Check it, this is my homegirl Nikki from the city."

Lincoln had never heard Ronnie Anne use the phrase "homegirl" before. Of course, he'd never seen her take a dump before either. That didn't mean she never had.

"Hey," Lincoln said.

"Hey," Nikki said, "nice jacket."

Lincoln was wearing his gray military deal to match Johnny's green military deal.

"Thanks." He looked her up and down for something to compliment in return and his eyes fell on her skateboard; she stood with one pink tennis shoe perched on the edge, crazily reminding him of that painting of George Washington crossing the Delaware. "Nice board."

That wasn't just a peasantry, he meant it. Tapered on both sides and painted in a rainbow of pastels, it looked like a stick of Fruit Stripe gum. There were also spikes on the wheels.

"Thanks," Nikki said. "I did it myself."

Lana adjusted her helmet and got up. "I'm ready," she said.

"Alright," Johnny said and stood. "Time for your first lesson."

Lana jumped onto her board with a giddy grin, but Johnny dragged her off by the back of her shirt. "Not so fast there, sport. First, you have to learn the basics."

"Basics?" Lana asked.

"Watch me."

Johnny stepped onto the skateboard he and Lincoln custom made and painted themselves last summer. It was green with ARGGH written across the bottom in white. He struck a lotus pose, one leg drawn up and his hands together like he was praying. "You must first master the art of balance, sensi."

Lana arched her eyebrow. "Uh...okay."

She tried to copy his pose and promptly fell down.

Lincoln and Maggie turned back to Ronnie Anne. "Wanna board?" Maggie asked.

"Sure."

Sid knelt down and recorded Johnny and Lana. "This is going to be good," she said.

"My how-to-skate video will sell mad copies online," Johnny said.

Since Johnny was using their board (why the bleep didn't we just make two of them?), Lincoln sat on the bench and divided his attention between the girls and Johnny and Lana. Lana finally emulated Johnny's pose without falling, but she wobbled and shook. "Now, we'll try actually moving," Johnny said.

On the half pike, Ronnie Anne did her best to impress Nikki, but Maggie kept showing her up. Maggie flipped, kicked, and all that other stuff, and Ronnie Anne got visibly madder and madder. She got sloppy and kept falling off her board, which served only to infuriate her more. Finally, after the millionth time she took a header and crashed into the asphalt (thankfully she was wearing a helmet, otherwise she would have wound up needing a trip to the emergency room of Carson General Hospital), she popped up, kicked her board, and stormed off, stripping out of her helmet and pads as she went.

"Yo, Ronnie, where you going?"

Ronnie Anne ignored her friend and disappeared around the side of the snack bar. Classic Ronnie Anne: Someone did something better than her and instead of being a good sport, she runs off to sulk like a big baby. She'd get a soft pretzel or a Rocket Pop, lick her wounds, and come slinking back like nothing happened. He was one hundred percent sure. He had seen this a thousand times in the past from her.

He turned back to the half pike.

Maggie did a sick kickflip, landed on one hand, and spun around like a breakdancer or something. Nikki looked after Ronnie Anne and seemed to consider going after her, but shrugged and went back to skating like nothing.

Meanwhile, Johnny went on teaching Lana "The Way of the Board" while Sid filmed. Lincoln watched, amused, as Johnny made Lana carry the board, rock it like a baby, and hug it. "A loved board is a happy board," he declared.

Fifteen minutes passed and Lincoln realized Ronnie Anne hadn't come back yet. He craned his neck around to look at the snack bar. A number of picnic tables occupied a concrete patio on one side of the building. A few kids sat around eating hotdogs and popcorn and goofing off, but Ronnie Anne wasn't one of them. Hmmm. Where was she? Did she go home? She only went home when she was really mad.

Should he go check on her?

He frowned. That was a risky proposition. Ronnie Anne was volatile, the type of person who wanted to be left alone when she was upset. If you rolled up on her when she was stewing, she was likely to punch you in the face for daring to see her at her weakest. For that reason alone, Lincoln didn't want to chance it, but for better or worse, Ronnie Anne was his friend and if something was wrong with her, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't make some kind of effort.

So, with a sigh, he got up and went off in search of her. Behind him, Lana and Johnny skated in circles. She was more stable now and not as uncertain. "Good," Johnny said, "you're almost ready to advance to the next level."

Lincoln walked a complete circle around the snack bar but didn't see Ronnie Anne. He walked from one side of the park to the other, then back again. He was just about to give up and call it a day when he spotted her on the other side of the chain link fence, sitting on a bench and waiting for the bus. Lincoln rolled his eyes. So she was going home.

Something - common sense, maybe - told him to turn around and walk away, but instead, his feet carried him through the gate and to the bench. He sat down, and Ronnie Anne shot him a dirty look. A gust of warm wind flipped her bangs into her face and she tucked them behind her ear.

"Where are you going?" he asked without looking at her. Knowing her, she'd get weird if he looked at her. OMG, you're seeing my emotions, I can't have that.

Seriously, she was worse than Hank Hill. What was it with some people bottling all their emotions up and acting like they didn't have any? It was clearly a pride thing, he just didn't understand it. Like, okay, you're human, so am I, so is everyone else. It's 2020, no one's going to bag on you because you're a person who experiences the full range of human emotions. Maybe in 1912, you couldn't let people know you weren't made of steel, but times have changed, RA, get with it.

"Home," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Cuz I wanna."

How should he approach this?

You know what?

He was going to be direct.

"You were trying to impress Nikki, weren't you?"

Ronnie Anne whipped her head around and fixed him with a baleful glare. Like a thin coat of ice on the surface of a frosty pond, however, it was hollow. Beneath, he saw the truth. "No," she said quickly.

"Yes you were," he said. "You were trying to impress her and Maggie kept stealing your thunder. Don't try to deny it, Ronnie."

Ronnie Anne opened her mouth, then turned away and crossed her arms sullenly over her chest. "She's my friend."

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "no one ever disputed that."

"DId you see her? Maggie totally took her away."

"I didn't see that," Lincoln said. "I saw you guys skating, then you trying to impress Nikki, then you marching off."

"Because I was mad!" Ronnie Anne cried and threw up her hands. "I rarely ever get to see Nikki and she's, like, the coolest person I know. When I used to live in the city, I looked up to her and wanted to be just like her. She's the one who taught me to skateboard."

She sighed. "At least she tried. I wasn't very good. I've been practicing really hard and I wanted to show her how much better I've gotten, but your dumb girlfriend kept being better than me. Nikki probably wants to hang out with her now. I don't blame her. At least Maggie can skateboard."

Lincoln twisted around to look over his shoulder. Maggie was standing in line at the snack bar, her arms crossed, and Nikki sat near the half pike looking lonely and lost. She looked around like she was waiting for someone and a slight frown traced her lips. "Dude," Lincoln said, "that kind of thing doesn't matter. If Nikki's really your friend, she won't care. She'll be your friend even if you suck. She's not going to be best friends with Maggie just because Maggie can skate better."

Ronnie Anne sighed.

"Friendship is about more than common interests. It's about connecting with someone on a human level. I bet Nikki doesn't even care. Look." He nodded to Nikki and Ronnie Anne turned around. "She looks sad...like she misses you. You should get over yourself and go back in there."

Ronnie Anne thoughtfully bit her lower lip. "You're right," she said. She looked at him and for the first or second time in all the years Lincoln had known her, she smiled. "Thanks, Linc."

To Lincoln's unending surprise - and horror - she swept him into a hug that nearly snapped his spinal cord in two. Who are you and what have you done with the real Ronnie Anne?

He hugged her back anyway. "Come on, let's go."

They got up and went back through the gate, sidestepping a fat kid in black shirt with HOLLYWOOD UNDEAD across the chest and a pink haired girl with more metal in her face than a Monster of Rock show. Lana and Johnny were skating on the halfpike now. She did a kickflip and a perfect hand stand. "I did it, I did it!" she cried joyously.

"I knew you could," Johnny said.

"Good job," Lincoln said, flush with pride even though he had no part in teaching Lana how to skate board. He looked around, spotted Ronnie Anne's skate board. He went over, bent, and picked it up. "Think fast!"

He threw it, and it arched high. Ronnie Anne jumped up like a basketball player going for a sick, epic dunk and snatched it out of the air.

"Nice catch."

She hopped on her board and joined the others of the half pike. "There you are," he heard Nikki say, "I thought you dipped. I was kind of bummed."

"Sorry," Ronnie Anne said.

Lincoln put his hands on his hips and beamed with pride. Helping people made him feel good. He was like Doctor Phill or someone. A white Oprah. A non mob affiliated Michael Franzese. A non shyster Joel Olsteen. You know what? He should start charging for his advice like Lucy in those old Peanuts comics. Was that her name? The girl who gave advice for five cents a pop, whatever her name was.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he looked up. Maggie handed him a giant plastic cup filled with soda. "I got you a big soda," she said.

"Thanks," he replied. "Food?"

"I'm not hungry," she said, "so if you want something, you have to go and get it for yourself."

"Maybe later."

He put his hand in hers and threaded their fingers together. Hand in hand, they watched the others skate. It would have been a poignant and picture perfect ending…

...if Lana and Ronnie Anne didn't crash into each other and wind up side by side on their butts with identical expressions of pain on their faces.

"Ow," they said in unison.

THE END.