A Time for Murder

Suspected

Once out in the parking lot, Dylon released his grip he had on Kenny's shirt. He jambed his hands in his pockets and continued to walk at a steady pace, no destination in mind, staring straight forward as he was deep in thought. He felt a chubby arm collide with his chest, nearly taking his breath away. And then he heard it, the honking of an angry car horn. He glanced in the direction of the sound, a black car with tinted windows road slowly past them.

"That was close." Kenny's arm still against Dylon's chest. "They had to of been flying a houndred miles or more."

The rate of speed had been an exaggeration on Kenny's behalf causing Dylon to roll his eyes. Dylon knew that it was impossible for anyone to drive over twenty-five miles per hour through the tight rows of the hospital parking lot. He shrugged it off, giving only a small glance in Kenny's direction before continuing on. His strides were long, a bit fast for Kenny's chubby legs to contend with. Though, his heavy painting told Dylon that he was trying his best to keep up with him.

They walked, the two of them aimlessly about the city streets, before stopping in front of an old ice-cream shop. Kenny, very winded, pressed in on his sides as he leaned forward. "You know," Kenny paused to draw in a deeper breath, "you sure are weird today." He was painting heavily, a clear sign of his lack of exercise. Dylon turned to face Kenny. Kenny was still hunched over, pressing the pain away from his now aching sides. "Oh, look." He nodded in the direction of the ice-cream parlor. "Ice-cream!"

Dylon shook his head from side to side as he watched a winded Kenny rush to the open window of the ice-cream parlor. Kenny motioned the ice-cream clerk by holding up two fingers, handed over some money and waited for his delights to be handed to him through the open window. Kenny squealed with excitement as he licked one ice-cream cone, and then the other.

Dylon turned and began walking again, Kenny was right on his heels, still juggling his two ice-cream cones. Chocolate, that was his favorite. A burp errupts from deep within Kenny's belly. Dylon, wide eyed, stops in his tracks, jerking to look at Kenny.

"What?" Kenny took another lick of his ice-cream. "I burp when I get nervous."

Dylon rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with you inhaling your ice-cream." He gestured to the ice-cream cones in Kenny's hands.

"I have a condition." Kenny shrugged. He licked his hand where some melted ice-cream had landed.

"Over eating is not a condition." Dylon pointed out. How could Kenny think of food at a time like this? Something was happening around them, something very bad, and Kenny stuffs his face.

"It's a real thing!" Kenny retorted, waving his hand about. Melted ice-cream droplets flying about, some landed on Dylon, smack dab on the middle of his cheek. "Even my doctor says so."

Dylon reached up, and with two fingers he wiped away the droplet of ice-cream from his cheek. He let out a sound of disgust as he peered at his soiled fingers. His hand shot out, before he had time to think about his actions and swatted a cone from Kenny's clutch.

Dylon, face twisted with something between disgust and anger, watched Kenny, his pudgy face reflecting horror as he watched his ice-cream hit the cement below. Kenny's chest began to rise and fall faster, and faster. His nostrils flaring as he fought back tears. "You dick!" He shouted as he tossed what remained of his ice-cream cone at Dylon. The ice-cream cone made a splat sound as it collided with Dylon's face, sliding down about an inch or so before continuing it's decent to the cement below.

Dylon wiped at his cheek, pulling his hand out in front of him to look at it. He stared at the melting ice-cream as droplets fell towards the ground. Disgusting, he thought to himself. Absolutely disgusting, it probably still has trace amounts of Kenny's saliva on it. His eyes narrowed in on Kenny. "I hate chocolate!" Kenny stumbled backwards as Dylon took a step towards him. "Now I have tubby germs all over me!"