Tonight I decided I wanted ice cream. Sure, a little after 8pm on a chilly post rainy January evening might not be the best time for a girl to walk to kings street creamery but hey, I’d do anything for ice cream. So my adventure starts with a phone at half battery and my wallet tied to my sleeve. Out the door and down the steps into the cool night. My adventure awaits! Once I reach the stone steps of my building I hear music blaring from the direction of one of my neighbors, what was his name again?
“Hey Rose, I only ever see you coming and going huh?”
“I suppose that’s true.” I laugh.
“Where are you headed off to so late?” What's-his-name asks.
“Off to get some ice cream!”
“This late? Where from?”
At this point he turns off whatever it was blasting from his phone speaker.
“I don’t know.”
“You don't know.”
“Nope.”
“Do you know what direction you’re going?”
“That way”
I point, grinning, in the direction of the college campus and the shops closing up behind it.
“Well alright then. You’re not going alone are you?”
“I am, why would you like to come along?”
And so he did. We descended the next set of stairs with him a bit behind me. We talked about our majors, how weird it was that we lived next to each other for so long and never really talked. When we got to the park the light from the streetlamps reflected off the sidewalks, today's rain having yet dried. He played the music from his phone like he had been doing earlier, and we enjoyed the night air together. I told him this was my favorite time to take a walk, after it rained when the town was dark and quiet, the light reflecting off of sidewalks and streams and the blacktop of the road. He told me about his grandmother's peach cobbler and how he broke his foot when he was learning how to ride a bike. We arrived to the ice cream parlor moments before it closed and he laughed as i jumped for joy when I saw they had cookie-monster ice cream. He got chocolate, and i told him he was boring. He dabbed a bit on my nose and we walked down town talking until our ice-cream was gone. He told be I was beautiful, and held my hand. His hand was the opposite of mine, large and dark it reminded me of a hovering cloud hiding the moon from the glances of man. It was a warm hand to hold in the cold night. He walked me home (like his wasn’t three steps away) and after I returned to my apartment, my face hurting from smiling so much, I realized;
I still don’t know the man’s name.
That’s not really what happened though.
“Well alright then. You’re not going alone are you?”
I laughed
“I am, but I’ll be alright. Have a nice night, I’ll see you later”
I walked away waving. Down the stone steps, onto the wooden ones I wondered if I should have invited him along. I shrugged off this feeling as I pulled my coat closer to my body, the moon was out and she had on her Sunday best. She guided me through the park, the creek swollen from the rain but shimmering all the same. I smiled knowing the night was mine. The streets on the way to the shop should have seemed lonely, but I felt at peace. I walked around wondering where Kings street creamery was, hoping I wouldn’t have to go to insomnia for ice cream, there's no way a cookie place has many choices (i would feel like I was betraying the cookie store I worked in anyway). Walking by I could see some of the bars were still filled with people under yellow orange lights, laughing and talking. All their stories unknown to me, I smile knowing how wonderful they must be.
When I finally find the ice cream parlor I see my misfortune in the form of a red and black closed sign. One solemn employee was packing everything up, i checked the store hours posted, on what seems to be old blue receipt paper, and read;
MON 11am-10pm
TUE 11am-10pm
WED 11am-10pm
THU 11am-10pm
FRI 11am-10pm
SAT 11am-9pm
SUN 11am-9pm
I checked the time. 9:08. If I had not taken my time though the park or had taken a shortcut through the other side of campus I could have arrived a few minutes sooner. I look down the gleaming streets, illuminated by the changing stop lights who direct no traffic, and sigh. The organic grocer closes at 10 and it's about a quarter mile down the road. I start walking, deciding my plan of attack. I speed my walk from leasurly to a not quite brisk pace, not wanting to miss out again if their hours changed on Sundays too. I cross the street at will, no cars to hinder the crossing and arrive to the store with plenty of time to spare. My face a little flushed, I walk in and smile at the lone cashier waiting for her shift to end. I suppose I could have walked straight from the entrance to the dairy section from the entrance but instead i cut through produce, the deli was on the other side and i was hoping they would have spoons i could snag for my frozen treat. It was in produce that i saw him, i have a few classes with him this semester, and one with him last.
His name is Darren, I learned this the week before when our professor called attendance. I remember being convinced for most of last semester he would have a british accent if i ever heard him talk. No such luck, just an ordinary American one. I walked over while he was stocking lettuce and smiled;
“Darren right? I think we’ve got a few classes together”
“Oh, hey, i’m sorry I don’t think I’ve caught your name yet?” He said in a disappointingly American way.
“Rose.”
And that’s how it started. Slow at first, handfuls of conversation between classes and timid waves when we walked by each other. Then one day we were paired up for a project in our ethnography class. We met twice a week to work on it together, then one day we met without discussing the project. We played cards, I told him about how i thought he looked british initially and was sad when he broke the illusion. He called me weird; but he said it in a british accent. As he was leaving my apartment that night he closed the door suddenly and pressed me against it, kissing me deeply. He hasn’t left since.
Except, I never walked over to him in the store.
I decided not to bother him. Sure we shared a few classes together, but i never spoke to him before and i doubted he would recognize me if i did. So I continued to the deli in search of spoons. I decided to look in the ice cream section to see if they had individual cones before dedicating myself to a spoon. Perusing through the various flavors in search for a small size i gaze lustfully at the containers of sherbet and eddys sundays in a cup; finally settling on 6.6 oz of Almond Dream bites. No spoon necessary. I take my chocolate covered delicacy to the tired looking cashier and pay with exact change, $5.09. Pretty expensive for so little ice cream, but I guess that's what happens when you buy almond based ice-not-so-cream from a place that only sells organic foods. After exiting the store I start for home when i decide the night is too young and turn back towards king street creamery enjoying my frozen treat. After raising my cup of Almond dream in salute i continue down the street. I meet a woman with a blind dog and gaze at the various items in the antique shoppes’ windows. A wonderfully detailed wedding dress was the center of attention in the left display window. I drank in the detail of the lace while throwing the occasional ice cream bite into my mouth. Window shopping up and down the near empty street I decided I needed a drink to help the chocolatey bites find their home in my stomach. I begin walking in what i hope is the direction of an open quick stop when i find a small little convenience store with its lights still on. I peer through its windows and see an employee mopping the floor and a customer? Picking out a drink from the cooler in the back.
Deciding that we was indeed a non-employee i step in to grab a soda from the cooler myself when I discover the man inspecting the cooler for quality beverages was actually Walter. We had taken scuba classes together the previous spring.
“Hey Walt how ya been?”
Walt looks up and smiles at me. He gives me a hug
“It’s been forever Rose!”
We pay for our drinks and leave the man with the mop to close in peace. We talk about our current classes and both confess to not having gone scuba diving since getting our certification. Since this is a sport that requires a buddy, we exchange numbers and about two weeks later he texts me saying he and a few friends are going down to Georgia to dive and that they need one more person to even out the numbers.
We dive in a freshwater river someplace with a forgettable name. A boat drops us upstream and we drift dive back to our origin point. Along the way we see water bubbling up from the sandy bottom, when we put our hands to these spots it feels warm. Friendly fish swim over and we wave the sand around in an attempt to play, the fish reciprocate. When we finally return to the surface my air tank is low but my spirits are high, we all go out to dinner and Walt and i go back to the river after everyone else goes to the hotel. We sit and watch the rushing water, it gleams just like the creek did on the night i found him in the convenience store. He puts his arm around me and we huddle together until the sun rises. We sleep though the whole ride home, our knees touching in the back seat.
It's too bad I never went into the store that night.
It was my former scuba classmate standing in front of the cooler, but before i opened the door to walk inside i noticed a vending machine a block away. This route would make less hassle for the man mopping the floor so I walked away and bought a red can of fizzy goodness for a dollar.
I decided to make my way back home though the campus then the park. Still enjoying my ice cream with the added bonus of a soda stroll though the brick laden campus walkway. Before i reach the park I throw my empty can in a recycling bin.
When i reach the park, illuminated by the moon and the tall lights scattered throughout i begin to feel a bit of sadness. Though my feet now ache from the long walk and it is now nearly 10 i don’t quite want to go home.
I stand at the fork debating if i should take a loop of the whole park or cut straight and go home. My feet make my decision for me and I am homeward bound, marching straight with a half filled container of ice cream bites jammed into my left jacket pocket. I’m about 10 feet from the street sidewalk when i notice a tall man, about my age, with dark hair and glasses. His pants appear to be my favorite color of a deep red-purple wine.
I suppose by now you must have caught on to my game my dear reader, and i suppose it would be quite reckless to call out to a stranger in a park at night while walking all alone, but for now let's just suspend that disbelief.
“It's dangerous to go alone you know” I say to him. He looks surprised by my voice in the silence of the evening but responds
“I don’t suppose you’re going to give me a sword or something?”
His features looks quite handsome in the moonlight. The night delivered me a kindred spirit. I wouldn’t learn this for another week or so when i spotted him again walking in the moonlight after a fresh rain fall. This time we took a walk together, talking about midnight walks, our dreams and fears, and began taking our late night walks together. The moon that led us together watched as we bloomed like ipomoea.
However like ipomoea this story will never blossom in the day. We passed each other, strangers in the night, but before he was out of sight I did look back to watch another story pass, he really did look handsome in the moonlight.
And so I went home, alone, but not lonely. Content with my adventure and my ice cream I walked home and slept the rest of the moonlight away.
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