The bench was metal, the thick iron absorbing all of the sun’s harsh rays. The scorching metal stung his fingertips, the ones that were already red from days before. His legs swung over the sides of the forest green metal, not even close to touching the perfectly gray concrete. The peaceful ocean sky, not a single cloud destroying the perfect beauty of it. The trees shook in the undisturbed breeze, their leaves sometimes falling as the months got colder. It was silent, like the moment before a cat pounces on an unsuspecting mouse. She’s late, again. He looks toward the road, across the trees planted in perfect little rows, to see if he sees a dark tangle of unkept hair belonging to his mom. His stomach starts to rumble, his feet impatiently swinging back and forth through the air. While his mom had other things to do, he wouldn’t leave him here, alone on the park bench, feeling like a rat trapped in a glass cage.
A slight hum fills the air, and his ears perk up to the new sound. Its 4 notes, 2 low, 1 high, and one all the way back down, accompanying this new chorus of notes, is a white truck. It stops right in front of him, and a piece of scratched up cardboard reads: Bobby’s Ice Cream! The window of the truck suddenly opens, showing a bigger guy with grayish-white stubble on his chin, looking like he hasn’t shaved in at least a few days. He makes eye contact, his dark, beady eyes roaming over the kid’s body as he cracks a huge, yellowish grin. The seller beckons with his left hand, asking the kid to come closer. The kid, without one thought in his head, walks over. He barely touches the height of the open window, where the seller is now staring at him with a certain hunger he can’t quite place.
“Hi,” his voice sounded small compared to the guy in front of him, “do you have, um, 2 scoop ice cream?” the seller’s smile seemed to widen into something that could barely fit his face, making him look like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit together.
“Ah, shoot kid, we only sell soft serve, but for a kid as special as you, I could get you the biggest cup we have.” At that moment he stuck his hand out to point at him and as he did, he saw the rumpled cuff of his sleeve, the one that was covered with a dark red splotch, one that still looked wet. Staring at it, the kid froze, this seller was different from the last one that had come around the block, had a different car too. He looked to the back of the truck, the one with no open windows or signs, and found a strange odor coming from it. It was a harsh hospital scent, cleaning fluid mixed with those sickly sweet medicines they gave him at the doctors. He starts looking around then, noticing he’s all alone with a new person, one that’s staring at him with his beady, hungry eyes. An acid taste fills up his mouth, reminding him he still hasn’t eaten since the morning.
“I’ve got some special flavors in the back, want some?” The kid’s stomach takes control, and his neck starts making a nodding motion.
“I don’t have any money though” he says, trying to rationalize why this wouldn’t be a good idea.
“That’s ok, I’ll give it to you for free, for such a special kid like you” looking at the man’s expecting smile, one that could do no harm, one that could give him what he was craving, the kid sealed his fate.
“Ok!”
The ice cream man laughed, a cruel one, and stepped down from the truck. The kid walked along the side of the truck, reaching its back. In those seconds, the air stopped its pacing, waiting for the inevitable. He stepped out from the other side of the truck and the kid saw the man’s full outfit. Black boots, jeans, a rumpled and stained collar. And in his hands, a key and an ice cream scoop.
