Sequel: Palm Trees ›
Seashells
you really like ice cream
June 30th, 2001
That was the day I went back to the island. We were late that year because my grandma was visiting for a few weeks. I loved her and all, but there wasn't much she could do with a nine-year-old girl that didn't bore her (and me) to death.
So we got there and settled into our little house for the summer. On the first day, my family's tradition was to go to the beach, as you know. I didn't really want to that year, but I figured that since the ice cream parlor was on the way to the beach, I would go. I thought maybe I could get my own cone of ice cream, since I didn't get one last year.
My dad really didn't want to stop for ice cream, but I just kept begging him and eventually he gave in. His only condition was that I had to go and buy the ice cream myself. He gave me a five dollar bill and told me to go.
I got out of the car, but then froze on the spot. I remember wondering why my dad was such a cruel person. He had to know that I was afraid of talking to strangers (older ones, at least). I see now that he was just trying to give me practice, but that moment was horrifying. I wanted to stall for time, but the line was extremely short and I had no other excuse. I let my eyes drift over to the picnic table beside the building.
You were sitting there, yet again. And again, you were eating an ice cream cone. I never knew what flavor it was or what toppings you got, because you were just about finished and I watched as you popped the very bottom of the cone in your mouth. You then proceeded to walk over to me and I wondered if you recognized me.
"Hi," you said.
"Hello," I said politely.
"Oh, I know you... You're the one who ate my ice cream last year."
So you did recognize me. "Yeah."
"Are you here to get ice cream?" you asked, as if there was any other reason to be here. I nodded and you said, "Hold on."
"Umm..." I just watched as you walked right up to the window and started talking to the girl behind it. See, at that time, I had no idea she was your cousin. I just admired you for having the guts to order stuff on your own. You came back with a huge cone of ice cream. Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles - my favorite. I was glad that you remembered.
"Here you go," you said, handing it to me.
I reached out to grab it, and that was when I remembered that I still had the five dollar bill in my hand. "What about the money?"
"It's okay," you said, smiling. "I got it."
"Thanks," I said.
"You're welcome." And then you walked away.
That was the day I went back to the island. We were late that year because my grandma was visiting for a few weeks. I loved her and all, but there wasn't much she could do with a nine-year-old girl that didn't bore her (and me) to death.
So we got there and settled into our little house for the summer. On the first day, my family's tradition was to go to the beach, as you know. I didn't really want to that year, but I figured that since the ice cream parlor was on the way to the beach, I would go. I thought maybe I could get my own cone of ice cream, since I didn't get one last year.
My dad really didn't want to stop for ice cream, but I just kept begging him and eventually he gave in. His only condition was that I had to go and buy the ice cream myself. He gave me a five dollar bill and told me to go.
I got out of the car, but then froze on the spot. I remember wondering why my dad was such a cruel person. He had to know that I was afraid of talking to strangers (older ones, at least). I see now that he was just trying to give me practice, but that moment was horrifying. I wanted to stall for time, but the line was extremely short and I had no other excuse. I let my eyes drift over to the picnic table beside the building.
You were sitting there, yet again. And again, you were eating an ice cream cone. I never knew what flavor it was or what toppings you got, because you were just about finished and I watched as you popped the very bottom of the cone in your mouth. You then proceeded to walk over to me and I wondered if you recognized me.
"Hi," you said.
"Hello," I said politely.
"Oh, I know you... You're the one who ate my ice cream last year."
So you did recognize me. "Yeah."
"Are you here to get ice cream?" you asked, as if there was any other reason to be here. I nodded and you said, "Hold on."
"Umm..." I just watched as you walked right up to the window and started talking to the girl behind it. See, at that time, I had no idea she was your cousin. I just admired you for having the guts to order stuff on your own. You came back with a huge cone of ice cream. Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles - my favorite. I was glad that you remembered.
"Here you go," you said, handing it to me.
I reached out to grab it, and that was when I remembered that I still had the five dollar bill in my hand. "What about the money?"
"It's okay," you said, smiling. "I got it."
"Thanks," I said.
"You're welcome." And then you walked away.