Chapter One
Bryan Burke toddled across the soft, cool grass, the sensation of it running under and around his bare feet. He enjoyed the sensation. It was still very new to him. He smiled and giggled like two-year-olds often do, marveling at every new feeling. Little Bryan was waking up to the world and was beginning to remember things albeit in a fuzzy sort of way. He turned around to point to his mother, lost his balance, and fell right on his duff. It was not a very bad fall, and he did not cry. Instead, he looked perplexed, as if wondering how it had happened. The grass distracted him from his current seated predicament. He reached down to grab a handful in his tiny fist, and managed to pull a few blades free, but many slipped through his fingers. When he was finished examining the grass, he let it fall to the ground, then turned over onto his hands and knees. With some effort, Bryan stood up and began to explore the front yard further.
No summer evening in 1972 was complete in the Edgewood Housing Project without the ice cream truck. Every weeknight around 6 PM, the music-box melody could be heard jingling as it pulled onto Templar Drive, the main thoroughfare that stretched through the development. Kids of all ages would converge upon that glorious bearer of rolling refreshment, digging for pocket change so they could buy a frozen treat. Parents flagged down the driver, smiling as the modified van rolled to a stop. Even the adults were not beyond quenching their craving for something cold on a scorching day in late July. Tonight proved to be no exception. As the truck turned on to Templar, the usual crowds began to form. It would be some time before the truck made its way to the front of Bryan’s house. Anita Burke had time to spare, so she turned and resumed her conversation with her neighbor.
Bryan stood enraptured by the approaching music. It sounded like the mobile in his bedroom that still hung above his old crib. He was too big for a crib now, but he did have a seven-month-old little brother that he shared a bedroom with, and he still heard those soothing, tinkling lullabyes every night when he went to sleep. Slowly, the ice cream truck drew closer. Other kids walked away with their treats as new customers approached. It seemed like the truck would stop every 100 feet or so, as some parents held their young children and waited for it to stop close to them.
The music was getting louder as it approached. It became difficult to hear anything else the closer it got. People had to raise their voices to be heard over the din. Bryan didn’t know anything about that. He just stared at the truck as it moved closer, and the enticing refrain of happy ice cream music pushed all other sounds into the background.
Anita asked her neighbor to keep an eye on Bryan while she went in to grab her purse. She wanted to buy all of them an ice cream sandwich. Of course, she knew that this would require a thorough washing of hands and face for her young son, but it would be worth it. She even thought about grabbing her Polaroid. Did it have film? She thought it did, so after grabbing her pocketbook, she ran up to her bedroom to grab the instant camera. It was not in plain sight. Damn, she thought, as she searched the closet and the shelves. I wonder if Robert took it with him tonight. She left the room, turned to walk down the hall, and opened the linen closet. It shouldn’t have been there, but there it was. She quickly checked the film compartment and saw that it had some, and then made for the stairwell.
JoAnn took in the gorgeous evening, the cooling air as the sun began to dip behind the trees, and the ambience of happy children excited for the promise of ice cream. She saw Bryan at the edge of the yard, just before the sidewalk. He had no shoes on, and had never set foot on the sidewalk before, so she had no reason to think that he would step onto the concrete now. Beyond the sidewalk, a strip of grass about two feet wide separated the sidewalk from the curb itself, and sitting at the curb was Anita’s mint green 1969 Ford Galaxie 500 Sedan. She watched the child carefully, but Bryan did not make a move to step onto the sidewalk. He just stared at the ice cream truck slowly approaching and leaving a swath of satisfied kids in its wake.
* * *
Jimmy Carpenter was what many parents in Edgewood called a “little prick”. They did not say it around their kids, or others, but he was well known as a problem child. Not a day went by when he wasn’t trying to pull some gag on the residents. The seven-year-old seemed to find the frustration of others amusing, and wondered why they didn’t laugh along with him when the jokes were played. They weren’t really sophsticated jokes. In fact, they were often just mean-spirited and mimicked from what he saw on cartoons like Tom & Jerry, or comedy shows like Benny Hill.
The weekend before, he had taken a glass soda bottle and smashed it in the street, spiking it down as hard as he could from the grass median strip. Glass exploded and flew everywhere, and horrified neighbors looked on as Jimmy howled with glee.
Jimmy’s mother was aghast at what her son had done and gave him the thrashing of his little lifetime. Then she made him march down to the scene of the crime with a broom and a dustpan and demanded that he clean up the glass while she kept her eyes open for car traffic while scolding and berating the boy the whole time. He snuffled and cried silently as he swept up the remnants of the broken bottle, still wondering what he had done wrong. Wasn’t this funny? People on TV laughed when something broke. He didn’t understand. Jimmy figured he would have to lighten up on his pranks, and maybe not do something so dangerous, so he made his way over to the garden hose that was attached to a spigot in the courtyard of his unit and turned on the water.
* * *
The infant made an uncomfortable-sounding cry. Anita sighed softly. She turned from the top of the staircase and peeked into the bedroom which was shared by her three boys- Bryan, his older brother David, and the most recent addition to the family, Matthew. The babe stirred and whined for a moment, fussing mildly, but did not wake up. With a sigh of relief that she would not miss the ice cream truck, she closed the door almost all the way and then hurried down the steps. As soon as she got to the first landing, she heard JoAnn scream!
* * *
One minute, JoAnn was enjoying a peaceful summer scene unfolding in front of her. Little Bryan was pointing at the truck and smiling as wide as his face couild go, bouncing with excitement. The next moment, she was being bathed in a forceful spray of cold water at near-point blank range. The shock of the water, the pain of it hitting her chest and face, getting in her eyes, elicited a scream of shock. As she tried to block the jet of water, she turned away and lost her balance. The lawn chair tipped and then she slipped off of the woven nylon straps, landing on her hands and knees. She held up one hand to fend off the spray. Jimmy Carpenter laughed.
Jimmy Carpenter thought that this was his funniest gag yet. The woman not only got wet, but she also fell! She fell right out of her chair! He continued to squeeze the handle and point the nozzle at his victim.
* * *
Bryan stepped onto the sidewak for the first time in his 27 months of life. It felt strange to the touch. Rough. Warm, but this was a shady spot, so it was not painful. He took another step and now he was officially off his lawn. The sensation was strange to him, so he made three quick toddle-steps and reached the grass median. The cool, soft sensation returned to his soles. But in doing so, he now could not see the approaching ice cream truck. He could still hear it, but his view was blocked by the Galaxie 500. He wondered where it went, and turned to look at the curb and the road beyond.
* * *
Anita BURST forth from her aluminum screen door, which made a loud and raucous clatter as it banged open. She gave a quick glance toward Bryan, who was standing not far from her car, but quickly looked down at JoAnn, who was now trying to stand up, her face bearing a FURIOUS expression.
* * *
Jimmy was startled by the sudden entrance of Mrs. Burke, but rather than release the handle and stop his impromptu deluige, he turned the hose on her! The strong, focused jet of water knocked the Polaroid out of her hands. It clattered to the front stoop, pieces of plastic breaking off of it.
Using her pocketbook as a shield, she advanced on Jimmy, closing the short distance, and wrenched the hose from his hands. Jimmy yelped in surprise as Mrs. Burke turned the hose on him, spraying him right in his chest. Of course, this made Jimmy laugh even more, even though both women were not in a joking mood. Jimmy ran off out of range of the spray, and that’s when JoAnn screamed again.
* * *
Bracing himself against the bumper of the Ford, Bryan stepped into the gutter and inched his way along the front of the sedan. The music was incredibly loud now, the playful tune almost shrieking. A blast of heat radiated forth from the engine of the truck. The drone of the motor began to announce itself, and then the front end of the truck, massive in ways a small child cannot comprehend, nosed forward past the front of the car just inches away. Bryan took another up towards the window of the truck, waving up at the opening, and announced his presence, but there was nobody there. He stepped forward once, twice, and then pain stunned the little boy as he stepped on a sharp piece of gravel. He cried out, alarmed, and fell forward. The last thing he saw was the rear wheel of the truck.
