What does Zeke want to drink?

Choices:
A. Lemonade
B. not enough information
C. A beer
D. Water
A beer
Old Zeke handed Justin his day's worth of mail and looked longingly at the cool shade under the porch, half hoping, half anticipating an invitation to enjoy a cool drink and a few minutes out of the sun. His state-of-the-art mail delivery vehicle, an old green Ford with busted air-conditioning, sometimes elicited sympathy from those along his route, but the ones with beer were the best. However, Justin just looked through his mail and then began watching the sky.
"You ever think about gravity?" Justin asked suddenly.
"No," admitted Old Zeke, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. Justin sighed a little.
"You ever fall off your ladder?"
"Well," considered Zeke. Damned if this wasn't a round-about way to offer a fella a drink, but maybe after all this Justin would offer him a beer instead of that watery lemonade he made. "Yeah."
"How long did it take you to fall?"
Well hell, muttered Old Zeke under his breath. Maybe all those stakes he was driving in had given Justin a touch of the sun. The thought made him consider hauling Justin back to town, although the truck might finish the job the sun had started.
"A second or two," Zeke replied. But before he could load Justin into the truck, he figured he would have to collect a few things from the house, and maybe from the fridge he'd collect a few drinks...
"That thing up there hasn't fallen a foot in ten minutes or so."
Maybe Justin had a small bottle of something tucked away under the... "What thing?"
Justin pointed.
Zeke shielding his eyes with his hands and looked up. "Oh, that weather balloon?"
Justin's expectant face seemed to droop. "That what it is?"
"Yep. Looks like it's almost out of helium, the way it's floating so low. Launched 'em myself thirty years ago in the Army."