"Anchors"

This is an excerpt from Chapter 6:

 “The Park.”

 

     All the sidewalks in town were made of local brick, bumpy from tree roots below worming their way through the ground. They were tricky to manage for even the soberest of individuals. A few of the deep red bricks were stamped by their maker with a letter or word etched on their face. Tourists may or may not have observed these symbols but the locals knew the code as to where each marked brick was crafted. Scattered about the journey to the park, they jumped from brick to brick, yelling their codes as they jumped, giggling when they missed or tripped. The “B” bricks were the most common, and Mr. Charley chuckled and shook his head when the jumping triangle passed by his front porch, yelling, “B Brick! B Brick! B Brick!”

     The park was not their first destination. With Tansy and Kate’s pockets jingling from their catch at the wharf, they stopped at Truman’s Store for ice cream. Truman’s was a store completely in the present, but it looked, smelled, and felt like a step back in time. There was no sign out front that said “Truman’s,” there was no need. As the old wooden painted screen door swung open, the oiled floorboards, a quarter inch thinner at the entrance, had a cushioned feel under your feet as if you were crossing the threshold into the most comfortable place in town. Worn from decades of local patronage, the thin strips of old oiled oak had greeted everyone in town a thousand times over. 

     The cigar smoke that hung on the patron’s clothes was firmly entrenched in the store, mixed with the smell of Italian meats and cheeses, pickles in a barrel, and black coffee. The olfactory effect was that of contentment; the store felt like home and was kept in that fashion. They carried a little of this and some of that, odd items that might be found in your junk drawer at home, but when needed, were absolutely necessary. 

     Truman’s mother, Mabel, could just about pull anything out of the cabinets behind the counter, and all you had to do was ask. Paint brushes, ribbons, safety pins, masking tape, lightbulbs, ladies' stockings, pens, notebooks…batteries, scrub brushes, Easter egg dye. The store itself acted as a grocer with fresh bananas, eggs, bread, milk, Tastykakes from Philadelphia, canned goods and laundry soap, but what was hidden throughout was treasure and Miss Mabel had the map in her head. 

     The candy counter was just inside the door to the right with a glass top with wooden edges, varnished and inviting. Many a child had rubbed the edges smooth to the bare wood while making very weighty choices. For those with only glass bottle deposit money to spend, there were jars of 5-cent candies, Mary Janes, Tootsie rolls, Gobstoppers, Atomic Fireballs, Now and Laters, rootbeer barrels and bubblegum. For those with more jingle, candy bars of all kinds, Lifesavers, licorice, and peppermint sticks held the young folk’s attention. 

     This counter also sold lottery tickets that Mr. Paul liked to buy, and cigarettes and cigars. It was a busy spot. Deeper into the store lay the soda fountain whose faux marble counter with metal edges was laden with a jar of pink pickled eggs, pigs feet, Lance crackers, Slim Jim’s and in the late mornings, sandwiches for the working men lay under a cloth tea towel ready for the lunch crowd.  

     This counter is where the trio stood that evening, reading the flavor choices that were posted on a “Joy” ice cream cup sign just above Truman’s head. 

     “What’ll it be?” Truman asked. “I’ve got dipper’s elbow, so go easy on me - no quadruple scoops tonight, OK?” 

They giggled because Truman always had dipper’s elbow from dipping ice cream; it was an occupational hazard. The children genuinely worried about his suffering from the affliction so much so that they would often inquire about this malady and how he was managing. He gave a full report to anyone who inquired as to the status of his elbow, and after a laborious elaboration of his affliction, he would finish his exquisitely detailed narrative with, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright. It gets rest on Sunday.”

     Predictable as last summer, Davey ordered a scoop of chocolate. 

“You haven’t changed at all from last year, have you?” Tansy joked. “Always chocolate. Don’t you want to try anything new?” 

“Nope,” he said as he climbed upon the spinning stool at the counter. He kicked his foot off the bar wall and spun around on his knees. 

“I like getting chocolate because it fusses you.” He stopped the stool just in time to grab the ice cream cone from Mr. Truman. “Thanks!” he said. He grabbed his cone and hopped down to the floor, reached into his pocket, and slapped 35 cents on the counter. 

     Tansy was still speechless from Davey’s remark so Kate piped up and ordered a scoop of coffee on a sugar cone. Tansy then ordered fresh strawberry. Truman knew exactly what she meant when she called it “pussy cat pink” ice cream. 

They left their coins on the counter, waved goodbye to Mr. Truman and headed outside to cross the street to the park. Just before the screened door, Kate stopped and remembered something else she was going to buy and walked over to the candy counter. 

“Miss Mabel!” 

     Miss Mabel walked slowly towards the counter, shuffling her feet as if they had slippers on them. Everyone knew she slowed down at the end of the day, but even so, it seemed like her pace was slower than usual as she rested her forearms on the glass top and let out a sigh. 

“What’ll it be, Kate?” 

“I’d like some Lucky Lights, please,” she said, laughing.

“Well, better Lucky Lights than Lucky Strikes,” Miss Mabel responded while handing her a pack. 

Kate handed her two dimes and headed out the door to meet Davey and Tansy. 

     The brightness of the sun melted like ice cream into a long, thin, deep orange puddle above the trees, dripping through the web of leaves in bursts of sparkles. Their cones half eaten by the time they reached the river’s edge, they all sat down on the shallow bank side by side, hip to hip, and gazed out at the river. Wind laid out, and breezes only whispered. Faces to the sun and eyes closed, they took in the last weathered warmth of the day, the last solar energy before the day washed off the surface of the river, and it disappeared into oblivion.

     They sat silently until their ice cream was finished. Kate pulled out her pack of Lucky Lights and placed one in each hand, stretched out in request. The three held the cigarettes close to their lips. 

     “Okay, one, two, three!” Kate said, and all at once they put the candy cigarettes to their lips and blew. Dust from the powdered sugar that lined the bubble gum shot out at once, and a plume of fake smoke lingered in front of them. They unwrapped their cigarettes and shoved the bubble gum in their mouths. Davey was the first to the swings followed by Tansy, then Kate. No matter how hard they tried, they could not swing a 360 around the top pole. Johnny once told them it was physics, but they didn’t believe him.