Page 10 of Summer of the Boy

Chapter Three

Once again, at shift leads to after shift.

Just as promised, I show up the next day to hang with him at his job. Despite the noise from all the carnival goers which make it kind of hard to hear.Orthe interruptions from the guys and girls who want to show off their strength by hitting that bell, we spend his entire work day talking more.

And I make my presence known.

At least I tell myself I’m there to make my presence known. Gabe and his buddies do show back up, but they never approach us. The reality is after hanging with Rid the day before and having him over for dinner, playing video games with him, I just enjoy his company.

Instead of going right home after he clocks out, we follow the boardwalk down the block to his favorite ice cream parlor. The sun is shining bright and there’s a warm breeze blowing off the water. The strong smell of salt permeates everywhere. I go to walk inside but he tugs on my arm to hold me back. “Listen,” he orders, then pushes the door open.

Immediately the store fills with, “Ice cream… ice cream… come and get your ice cream,” sung in a high-pitched, auto-tuned voice where there would normally be a chime. It’s happy inside and I get why Rid loves it here.

All the staff knows him by name calling out their, “Hey, Ridley” or “Ridley, good to see you.” A lonely homeschooled kid would feel like he had friends in a place like this.

There’s a big sign above the menu hanging on the back wall that says: Home of 53 Flavors, which seems oddly specific. Like fifty felt too few but no one was creative enough to hit sixty?

They offer free samples, so I sample all fifty-three flavors. I mean, they made the rules. I’m just a player in the game. While I decide on mine, Rid orders a double waffle cone of mint-chocolate chip-julip and cherry cordial. I choose a double waffle of honey-lemon-ginger and Matcha green tea.

So damn good.

We drive to his house licking our ice creams and listening to the radio. He relaxes in the seat. Shoulders loose and a smile so big two dimples pop out at the corners of his mouth.

No surprise, his mother has a ‘no shoes on in the house’ rule. We kick them off at the front door and he leads me upstairs without giving a tour. Or offering a drink, which I could really use a water after eating such a rich treat.

In his room, one wall is dedicated to DC and the opposite to Marvel. I walk slowly perusing the artwork and collectables he has on display.

“Can I?” I ask, talking about a Superman-esque action figure wearing a purple suit with a backward S on his chest. I’m not in to superheroes, so I have no clue who this guy is.

Rid nods. “Bizarro Superman,” he says.

I pick him up to examine the plastic man’s details, then keep Bizarro Superman in my hand while I walk the rest of the perimeter, checking everything out, and apparently stepping over an imaginary line. Rid throws his hand out.

“No.”

Okay. I stop midstep.

“Separate universes,” he explains.

And never the twain shall meet. Fair enough, I turn around to set Bizarro back down on his shelf before continuing on to Marvel-land. I don’t get it, but then again, I don’t have to.

We talk more and watch a movie about space aliens taking over the earth until his mom gets home. To say she’s not happy to see me is an understatement.

In lieu of a hello, she says, “I have to make dinner now.” And she walks into the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Rid says after she’s out of earshot. “Will you hang out tomorrow?” The relaxed atmosphere we had going all day today vanished the moment that woman walked through the door. Now his shoulders look stiff and there’s a sadness to his voice.

“You know it.” I shove his arm like I’d do with any guy friend and get the hell out of there because what I really want to do is kiss him goodbye.

***

Tomorrow leads to everyday.

Weeks have passed.

It’s his day off so we decided to hang out at the beach, inevitably with me bringing him several miles down from the public areas, to my favorite place in Atlantic City. This private jetty made from giant stones and cement pieces. The most beautiful spot in New Jersey.

“Rid?” I ask. He leans against the giant rock, gazing out at the massive expanse of water. But even with this view, I can’t look anywhere but at him.

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