The night this happened I’d been staying away from my apartment for the last week because my roommate and I hadn’t been getting along. So I’d stay out until about midnight downtown, then I’d walk the couple of miles back to my neighborhood. We lived in half of a duplex, but the area is mostly single family houses.
In the daytime there are always little kids running around causing mischief, especially in the summer. And of course with that comes the ice cream trucks.
Usually I find the song comforting, dancing up from the heat waves over the July asphalt. It makes me think of my own childhood, running after that sound with a wad of crumpled dollars in my hand, tart popsicles melting red and blue all over my hands.
But last night as I was walking home, hoping my roommate was asleep, I heard that sound again.
It was way too late for an ice cream truck to be out. But I heard it, far in the distance. The only other sounds were my feet clicking against the concrete sidewalk and the occasional late night sprinkler spritzing the most pristine lawns.
I passed through a couple blocks curious, trying to find where the music was coming from.
Eventually I came to a block I didn’t recognize and the ice cream truck was there, playing its song, idling on the side of the street as it if was the middle of the day. But what really surprised me was that there were a ton of kids playing in all the yards, running, shouting, laughing.
No adults in sight and it was after midnight. I wondered if I should be calling child protective services or something. This has to be some sort of negligence, doesn’t it? But the whole block was filled with kids. It wasn’t like it was just one house. Maybe this was some weird holiday sort of thing I didn’t know about.
One group of kids, they couldn’t have been quite old enough for elementary school — there were four of them, all chased each other around jumping. The one in front said, “I’m the frog king.”
The ones behind all argued, “No I’m the frog king.”
“I’m the frog knight.”
“I’m going to beat you all then I’ll be the frog king and the frog knight!”
Frog kings all, how simple it was to be a kid like that. They weren’t aware that their parents were being neglectful letting them run wild in the front yeard past midnight. They didn’t know they were in a bad situation that put them in danger. All they knew was the frog kingdom in their minds, where frog knights swore fealty to hopping, amphibious royalty.
In the yard to my right two boys sat on a swingset in blue caps slowly swinging back and forth, not putting much effort in. As I walked they stared at me, expressionless. It was unnerving. They didn’t seem to be talking or even breathing, their stares just followed me as I progressed up the block, their eyes dead.
It felt surreal. Sure, it was possible that one family would have let their kids play way past what their bedtime should have been, but there were kids playing in front of every house on the block. It didn’t add up.
I dug around my pockets for change as I neared the ice cream truck. There was a little bit of a line but I figured I’d ask the driver if he knew what was going on and why there were so many kids out at this time of night.
Children waited in front of me discussing what they should get as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Not one of them so much as glanced in my direction as the line advanced.
The ice cream man put on a show selling the different frozen treats. Popsicles, ice cream cones, ice cream sandwiches, fudgesickles, frozen berry flavored cartoon characters on sticks — he had everything I’d expect to see at an ice cream stand.
“I’ll have a fudgesickle,” I said, holding out a five dollar bill when I got to the front of the line.
“You don’t belong here,” the ice cream man said.
“Just walking home when I heard the music, thought I could do with a treat.”
“This isn’t a place for people like you. Get out of here.” Earlier I’d thought the ice cream man was young, but now that I was actually face to face with him in the dim light I realized he was actually quite old. His face was cratered by scars and wrinkles and he moved with a sense of lethargy. “Get out before you regret it,” he said.
“Whoa,” I was taken aback. “What’s the deal with all this anyways? Why are all these kids out? What are you doing selling ice cream past midnight?”
“What kids?” He asked. I looked around and all the kids I’d seen only moments before were gone.
“The whole block was filled with children a moment ago. You were selling them ice cream. They must have finally gone inside. Seriously, something weird was going on. Kids shouldn’t be out like that this late,” I stammered.
“Now you’ve gone and done it. Meddling with things you don’t understand,” he said as he hand shot out and grabbed my arm. His grib was cold and strong, grasping so tightly that I shrieked in pain trying to jerk myself free of him. But he held on. His eyes went wide and angry as he screamed nonsense at me. “You’ve gone and done it. It was all good until you came around. Now you’re coming with me. I didn’t want to do this yet.”
I managed to pull myself free and took off running.
I’m not much of an athlete, but the one thing I’m half way decent at in that regard is sprinting. So I put some distance between myself and that ice cream truck quickly, but before I was at the end of the block I heard him turning around to follow me.
When I turned the corner I’d hoped that I’d lost him, but moments later I heard that familiar music as he turned to follow me. Strangely, he didn’t seem to be trying to catch up, as I’m sure the truck could have ran me down with ease. Instead he kept his distance trailing a few hundred feet behind me, driving with no headlights on.
Reckless, I turned and jumped the fence into someone’s back yard. Sure, they might call the cops or burst out their door with a shotgun, but hopefully I’d be back out of their yard and into the next one before that came to pass. What I knew for certain is that I’d rather deal with rational people than with this deranged ice cream truck man.
My hands shot through with pain as I scaled another fence, trying to lose him. I looked down and realized in the dim light that I’d sliced open my palm. I’d worry about that when I got home.
It felt like the side of my torso had been driven through with a stake, but the music sounded like it was getting further and further away.
Before long I’d made it back to the duplex. I stumbled inside and collapsed into the sofa, catching my breath.
Not minutes later though I heard that familiar music turn down my block.
It stopped in front of the duplex.
“Come on, just go away. Go on your creepy way and leave me alone,” I whispered under my breath.
That’s when the light clicked on and I turned to see my roommate perched behind me with a pissed off look on his face. “Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?”
“Turn off the light,” I said.
“What? Why?”
“Just do it there’s someone outside. I’ll explain later,” I said. But it was too late.
The ice cream man began banging on the door. “Get out here! You ruined everything and now you’re going to pay for it. It’s all your fault they had to go away.”
“What’s going on?” My roommate asked.
“Shhh, we’re not here. This guy is insane. He chased me in his ice cream truck,” I whispered.
My roommate went to the door. “Leave us alone or I’m calling the police.”
“You’ve ruined everything. I’m not leaving until you make it better.”
My roommate peeked out the sight hole. “It’s a little old man. I’m going to open up and if he tries anything I’ll knock him out. This is b.s. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”
“NO!” I shouted, thinking about that vice grip that left bruises on my arm.
The door swung open and the little old man grabbed my roommate by the throat. “You’re not the one that I wanted, but you’ll do,” he said, strangling him.
My roommate struggled and lashed out at the old man, but once the grip tightened over his throat he couldn’t wrench himself free. I dashed to the door to help him, but in mere moments the old man had dragged him half way down the sidewalk. “Back! Back! Stay back! This is for your own good. Don’t you see? It was either him or you.”
I staggered out, slack jawed. “No, no,” I said.
The old man dragged him into the ice cream truck and as he closed the door and turned his music back on children came out from every house on the block to watch him as he left. When the truck passed the end of the block I saw them evaporate back into the air.