Silence = Death

slurp

Saturday, 28 March, 1987

The anticipation was more difficult to endure this time than the last, as there was more time to cover, and there was a different sentiment marking the two. The first wait was the space in between Tuesday and Thursday when I had to wait for the first meeting, and the second wait was in between Thursday and Saturday when I had to wait for the ice cream shop rendez-vous. The former was filled with more wondering and prospect about what the meetings could hold, about who I could become through them and the friendship that comes along with it, about breaking free from eternal boredom. The latter was filled with the knowledge that I am being welcomed into a friend group with no objections from any of the members, and that life is already turning around for the better. The problem is that I had to wait until Saturday for the better to arrive.

But now it is finally here, and all I need to do is take that final bike ride towards the ice cream shop. I inspect myself in the mirror to make sure that everything is presentable on me. I wear a pair of my plain blue jeans, nothing special about them, a random t-shirt from some organization whose purpose I have forgotten, and my bomber jacket like always. Even though there's nothing that I should be worried about regarding this typical outfit, I still find myself wondering what kind of impression it'll have on Mac and Juniper. But I can't be standing around all day, staring at myself in the hall mirror, so I force myself to break away.

I begin my journey towards the ice cream shop, taking less time than usual to gaze at my surroundings as I whiz past them. My only focus is the destination, which I reach after a quick bike ride.

The shop is small but friendly, and it seems to receive a lot of business no matter its size, judging from the good amount of customers ordering ice cream and sitting at the metal tables outside. I suppose that it is a good indicator of the quality of their ice cream.

Juniper and Mac are waiting for me around the fence to the patio, and upon seeing my bike swerve into view, they greet me with a wave and allow me to pull my bike near the fence so that it's leaning on it. We walk towards the entrance in similar stride, open the door, and experience the delicious smells of the ice cream cone batter and the ice cream itself.

"Despite having lived here for my entire life, I have not yet been to this particular ice cream shop," I tell them.

"You're missing out on something huge," Juniper says as she scans the menu to find something that I might like, as she no doubt has her own flavor already picked out. She recommends cake batter ice cream, and since I have had no prior experience with this store, I go along with it.

The ice cream shop clerk and my new friends greet each other as if they've known each other forever, which I guess they have, as Juniper and Mac grew up with this place as a prime hangout spot. After paying, we take our ice cream to the patio, where Juniper and Mac watch me to hear my thoughts about the taste with the same pride in it as the person who made the ice cream themselves. Their eyes are wide and shouting impatience and become even more so as I take my first bite.

The taste is so magnificent but so hard to explain, so the only thing that I can say is, "Holy shit!"

As I spoon another portion into my mouth, their faces relax into a laugh, knowing that I, too, have fallen under the spell of this ice cream shop.

"That's exactly what I said when I tried one of their new flavors, and I almost got kicked out by a mob of aghast customers," Mac recalls, still laughing.

Juniper obviously remembers the incident, as she shakes her head in disapproval of her brother's antics. "Mac has a terrible habit of not being socially appropriate," Juniper comments as she rests her arms on my shoulder, basically draped across me, in a whisper that Mac still distinctly detects.