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Chapter 7
"Mama, can we get the ice cream with the three different flavors?" My smaller hand was firmly clasped within my mother's, swinging back and forth between us as I gazed up at her with a pleading expression. I could never remember the difficult name of the ice cream. I wasn't picky when it came to flavors, I liked having options and it became my favorite very easily.
"Neapolitan," my mom, Jaclyn, informed, looking down at me with an amused smile. "It's your eighth birthday, Ricky. You can have whatever kind of ice cream you want."
That response procured a wide smile from me and added an extra hop to my steps. We were currently in the grocery store, picking up my birthday cake that was decorated with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and, of course, the ice cream. The plan for the day was to get what we needed from the store and then head out to Hollywood Park where my birthday party would be held and starting within an hour.
I was excited to win prizes and most importantly, ride around in the go-karts with my friends!
As we left the grocery store with the bagged tub of frozen sugary goodness held between both of my small arms, my mom struck up a conversation again. I always liked that; her constant attention on me.
"Do you know what you're gonna wish for when you blow out the candles, Ricky?" My mom was carefully holding my precious cake with both hands as we waited for a car to pass so we could head into the parking lot. I was a little upset that we both had full hands, because it meant I couldn't hold hers. Though, I knew safely carrying the food was more important right now.
"Yep!" I answered excitedly, being careful not to run ahead of my mother as we crossed over to the parking lot. I'd get yelled at for that and I didn't want that to happen on my birthday of all days. "But I can't te-"
My sentence was abruptly cut off at the sound of tires squealing and shouting. I went to turn around and see what caused the commotion, but my line of sight was suddenly blocked by my mothers purple blouse. She yanked me against her body and in between two cars as gun shots rang out rapidly. I'd heard the sound, but never so close.
I could see my my birthday cake laid to waste on the concrete a couple feet away, the bag that held the ice cream not far. I tried to look up at my mom, but she kept my head firmly tucked against her body. My shoulder hurt, but I deemed it stemmed from the way I was roughly grabbed.
"Ricky, sweetheart, I need you to close you eyes, okay?" Her voice was low and it trembled as she spoke to me.
I couldn't understand why she was asking me to do such a thing. Just as I went to ask, I noticed a couple spots darkening on her blouse. Hesitantly, I reached out to gently touch one, gasping with tears filling my eyes as my fingers came in contact with wetness and stained red.
