The Ice Cream Man

Meant for Each Other

 

 

I'm eleven years old, and the family has gone to New York on vacation. The smells disgust me...I'm young and I don't see what others see in this utopia. The smell of black coffee wafts so suddenly around every corner along with the stinging aroma of piss and smoke. Outlandish individuals stumble around like it's the last year of the best five years of their lives. Shady folks pass something inconspicuously to one another; standing in large herds like elephants...or sheep.  Everywhere you go is another obstacle course with the looming threat of possible shanking or otherwise mugging. You hear something every hour about a Brooklyn and Manhattan war, and it makes you never want to get in the crossfire. The stench of alcohol permeates the air and you never know if someone is completely sober of if they're just fucking with you. In the cleaner areas the rich make you sick. Fixated on themselves like they're the next Paris Hilton or Britney Spears. An ambulance seems to swing by every fifteen minutes and you just wonder where it's going to stop next. No one seems to notice you exist and when you cease to exist no one will bat an eye. I stay in between my father and mother, weariness clenching at my anxious heart. That's right even back then I had an anxiety problem. Every one we passed was evil and seriously plotting a malicious vendetta against my innocent family. Vacation to New York? Hell No. Vacation to Hell on Earth. And they take pride in that? My head whips around in every direction hoping to see a light at the end of this dank murky tunnel and that's when my dad says it....

"How about some ice cream?"

So there is joy in life. The ice cream truck is small and pink and in it is a man that seems to shine with the light of God I swear it. After that Ice cream cone....Cherry vanilla....for a year I'm in love with the creamy sweet. 

I'm at the next Ice cream truck two days later in central park, waiting in line while my parents sit on a bench with the baby. My heart beats a mile a minute anxious once again at having any unwanted attention on me as I step up to the window. He has his back to me but he looks like a trust worthy guy. He has those kinds of shoulders...you know the kind that you can picture yourself crying on. The friendly hold-it-together type. He fumbles with something and then turns flashing me a big grin.

With amber eyes.

"AH!" The scream rips through my throat like a knife cutting through cloth and I snap up into a sitting position my breathe coming shallowly but plentiful. It was a dream. I remember that second truck and the man who resided in it was a built Hispanic man with a pearly white smile and deep brown eyes. Why....why does amber still haunt me even in my dreams? Reaching up I brush a hand through my dark hair tilting my head at my surroundings. I'm on a plush bed with maroon cover that shimmers in the dim light. Five feet ahead is a crimson couch settled neatly across from a large TV with a coffee table nestled in front. As I gaze to the left I see an open kitchen with a nice counter and a shiny new fridge.  A hall leads I can only guess to moderately sized bathroom.

Where am I?

Flashes of the ice cream man chasing me about my house fit together in my mind like a seriously psychotic puzzle and distressed filled shivers course through my body. HOLYSHIT! WHAT DO I DO? It's not like they teach you how to escape confinement in school or god forbid martial arts...I barely know how to throw a punch much less how to kill an attacker. Looking around I don't even see a phone that I can call 911 with. The sound of a door slamming brings me to and I jump up from the bed sprinting across the room to a table where a lamp is neatly set plugged into the wall. Yanking the cord (I remembered this time) I pick the light up in my shaking hands and then jog to the main door. I bite my lip hard as I wait anticipation my only companion as I feel my legs tremble. The lock on the door turns and then it's pushed open. As soon as I get a glimpse of his head I growl swinging the heavy object at his unsuspecting skull. Unfortunately he hears my war cry and ducks on instinct completely avoiding the lamp as it smashes against the wall. His amber eyes spark and he quickly grabs my arm ripping the jagged edged weapon from my fist. Instantly I tug my arm out of his grip and duck under his body to shoot out the door. He suspects this and shoves his leg out tripping me...causing me to fall to the floor on the broken glass. I hiss as small shards dig into my naked torso. The Ice Cream man cusses and grabs my legs dragging me into the room before turning to shut the door.