funeral boy

ice cream run

+

F U N E R A L B O Y - O N E

It was an Autumn morning when I decided I wanted ice cream. I used to spend all my money on cigarettes and red bull, but finally managed to muster up five bucks, and wanted to share my earnings with my best friend.

The fact that is was after 1 AM on a school night didn't phase me, and it most definitely did not stop me from throwing rocks at his window and whistling the ice cream truck tune. My feet carried me to his house, although I'm almost positive I was staggering most of the walk over there.

"Psst," I whispered loudly. I inched myself closer to his bedroom window on the second floor. My eyes darted across his backyard to make sure no neighbors were awake. "Garden boy."

The old nickname developed when I found him sitting on the grass of his back garden in second grade. He didn't want to go play with any of the other kids in the neighborhood, and told his mom he wouldn't, so my mom made me say hi to him.

My eyes were drooping from lack of sleep and the redness in them didn't subside no matter how many hours I stayed sober. The dark circles under my big brown eyes were not flattering whatsoever to my short hair and petite persona.

After making sure everyone in the neighborhood was sleeping, I climbed the tallest tree in Shawn's back garden. I couldn't really see straight but managed to make it up to the top branch without slipping or falling. Thankfully, I could reach his window and tap on the glass if I leaned over a little.

"Shawn, wake up," My finger knocked lightly on his window as I spoke clearly, but made sure not to let my voice wander too loudly. If his dad woke up and saw me trying to sneak in, Shawn would not have ever spoken to me again. "Please." I tapped the glass again.

"What do you want, Gracie?" His voice was groggy from behind his blinds- the window was open just a few inches so I could barely hear his whisper. "It's 1:24 in the morning. What did you do?"

"Stop acting like I only come to you with problems. Let me in."

"Hang on." I heard shuffling from behind the blinds, but it soon grew quiet again. Shawn opened the window a few moments later. He looked exhausted; his brown hair was slicked back by yesterday's grease and his dark circles were more prominent than usual. "What, Gracie? What could be so important?"

"Come get ice cream with me?"

"Gracie?" Shawn took a closer look at me through the glass and squinted his eyes. "Are you stoned?"

"Shawn please come get ice cream with me. I'm starving."

He sighed before grabbing a sweatshirt from his closet and letting it pool over his shoulders. "You're lucky we're friends." He mumbled, opening the window as far as it would go so it would be easier for him to climb out.

"Thank you."

And the walk to Dairy Queen was quiet. Shawn was kicking pebbles to fill the uncomfortable silence and I was opening a new box of cigarettes. "How do you even afford all those cigarettes? You smoke at least a pack a day."

"I have my ways."

"Like what? Sex?"

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm glad to know my closest friend thinks of me as a prostitute." I placed a cigarette between my lips and cupped my hands around the butt, lighting it with the small flame erupting from my green lighter. "I really needed that. Thanks." We continued to walk. I made smoke rings.