When Life Gives You Lemons

There are many tales in this part of the Amalfi Coast. One summer, in the beautiful town of Millefiori, nestled between the azure Tyrrhenian Sea and majestic cliffs, a music festival was in full swing. The town was famous for attracting musicians from all over the world. However, its main claim to fame was the lemon. Tourists were entranced by the enormous size of these yellow anomalies, which stood out due to their large exteriors and surprisingly small interiors.

That summer, a lemon grew to a monstrous size, even bigger than a human head. Allegra, a young girl who attended the music festival, first saw the lemon pulling the tree down to its knees. It suddenly rolled to her, almost asking to be picked up. So, she picked it up like a baby, coddling and swaddling it in her arms, without realizing she was nestling a persona like no other.

Even the townspeople who were used to gargantuan lemons became curious about her lemon baby. She first thought of a name—Agrumi sounded good and very citrusy. Then, she purchased a stroller and proudly wheeled Agrumi around, sparking curious stares and spreading word quickly among the townsfolk and visitors. The locals, well-versed in the peculiarities of their giant lemons, were still befuddled by this yellow blob that seemed to sprout a personality.

The day of the Coast Festival arrived, and Allegra, a highly adept violinist, prepared herself for the grand performance in the town square. Agrumi was seated on a pedestal as Allegra began to play her violin. As the strings reverberated, Agrumi began to tremble. The audience, rapt with attention on Allegra’s music, failed to notice at first. Not to be outdone, Agrumi leaped into an animated dance, sprouting arms and legs. Wild, unpredictable, and crazy, the yellow creature commanded all attention. The crowd gasped loudly, but Allegra kept playing like the young professional she was. It was distracting, and Agrumi with the wild and crazy eyes, certainly did not keep rhythm, even if Allegra played perfectly.

Agrumi, craving more chaos, jumped off the perch, knocking over tables, breaking lighting fixtures, destroying decorations, and turning everything helter-skelter. Something changed in Agrumi’s eyes. Once sunny, they slowly became mischievous, and then, unchecked, they turned dark and malevolent.

Realizing the danger, Allegra played calming music, hoping Agrumi would settle down. Instead, the creature fed on the notes, whipped itself into a frenetic frenzy. It started bouncing around, knocking people down, winding through market stalls, and tossing produce hither and tither. It ravaged the flower stand, hurled fruits at people, and left a trail of messy destruction.

The historic clock tower chimed its disapproval. Now, Agrumi found a new target. With newfound agility, it climbed the tower, clanging the bells loudly, playing maniacally with the clock hands, and drowning out the sweet strains of Allegra’s music.

Once marveling at Agrumi, the people now became fearful, and children began to wail uncontrollably. They ran in panic while their parents struggled to keep them calm despite their own fears. Emboldened by the chaos, Agrumi ran across rooftops, kicking off sunbaked tiles that had covered the roofs for centuries.

Not satisfied, Agrumi jumped from one building to another until it landed on the statue of the town’s founder. The lemon had grown like a hot air balloon with all the attention, and its weight displaced the statue. Agrumi gave one kick to it, sending it teetering into the fountain. Instead of amusement, the children were panic-stricken.

The mayor of the town, known for thinking on his feet, intervened to tackle the situation. He summoned the fleeing folk, especially the restaurateurs, with an order-like invitation. “Go home and get your kitchen tools; we must put this lemon to good use.”

Suddenly, the people saw monstrous Agrumi for what it was: a lemon. Chefs and bakers, armed with knives, juicers, zesters, ice cream makers, and selected provisions, rushed to the square. They surrounded the rampaging lemon, chopping, slicing, and juicing it as it tried to escape. Agrumi put up a good fight, but the united folk determinedly sliced and diced the offending citrus.

The talented crew transformed the monstrous Agrumi into a host of delicious treats. For the hot afternoon, lemon sorbet, gelato, and limoncello were on the menu. Salads with lemon dressing and desserts with lemon curd vied with other menu items. Perfumiers and essential oil makers captured the lemon scents, and the whole town was bathed in a pleasant yellow hue with a lemony fragrance. The entire mess was cleaned up with lemon-scented soap. The delighted townsfolk began to laugh at their earlier fears.

The chefs doled out free lemon sorbets and gelatos, the bartenders poured limoncello like there was no tomorrow, and everyone eagerly held out their hands—except for one person who raised the seed of doubt.

“What if the spirit of Agrumi got into the treats? Will we bring back exponential chaos?”

Whispers became loud voices, and people started whimpering.

The brave mayor, reading the room, decided to address their fears. Holding a glass of limoncello, he congratulated everyone for tackling the challenge. However, he said, “I understand your trepidation, despite our victory. Let us find an expert to make sure the spirit of Agrumi has gone.”

“A cleansing ritual is needed,” cried an old man with a stooped figure.

“It’s Umberto,” someone in the crowd exclaimed. “Let him in!”

The stooped figure shuffled forward. Umberto was a medicine man familiar with ancient herbs and potions. He instructed everyone to offer the treats first to the purest water emerging from the fountain, water that had protected the townsfolk for centuries. He dropped a spoonful of lemon sorbet and a bit of limoncello into the fountain waters. "This will cleanse the treats from any negativity.”

Umberto then mumbled a few words in ancient Latin as he added the rest of the treats. The fountain waters began to bubble and gurgle. The stream swayed and spewed jets of water in a pattern, beginning with a big bang, bubbling, and filling the air with a thick lemon scent that made people dizzy and intoxicated. It swayed back and forth, mesmerizing the people as it mimicked Agrumi’s early dance in reverse order until it completely calmed down. The scent became less cloying, and the air was now pleasantly calming.

Umberto took his eyes off the fountain at last. “The ancient waters have drowned out the sinister spirit, and we can continue to celebrate.”

The people took tentative sips and bites of the treats, and the taste was remarkable. There were no strange aftereffects. Instead, they found the deliciousness much more exciting than before. Slowly, they began to relax.

The festival continued with greater appreciation, and Allegra’s violin playing attained a richness and depth, making people forget the chaotic fears they faced moments earlier.

Many festivals came and went in the town of Millefiori, but the story of the lemon that went rogue was told and retold with relish. It brought to mind how people could transform the most maddening problem into a sweet and memorable situation. This was a town where people had zero tolerance for sourness, and when it reared its head, they would bring back the zest for life with collective action.

Millefiori is a fictitious town, but Maiori is a place in Amalfi where summers are filled with music and the lemons can be as large as a human head. About Agrumi, I am not so sure. Could be a creature of my imagination OR NOT.