Ice Scream

by MC Perri

Ice Scream

  M.C. Perri

  Ice Scream

  M.C. Perri

  Copyright 2014 M.C. Perri

  Thank you for downloading this free ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download an additional copy for each recipient. If you enjoyed this ebook, then encourage your friends to download their own free copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This story is dedicated to the wickedly horrifying Jake “The Flake” Cleeman, who always loves a good scare!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  About the Author

  Coming Soon by M.C. Perri

  Publications by Learning Island

  Chapter one

  I knelt down on the floor of our new living room, and began the gruelling task of placing Mum’s books on the bookshelf.

  Five boxes full, great … And I have to put them in alphabetical order!

  When I got halfway through the third box, I sighed and looked at my younger brother, Marty.

  You would think placing cushions on the couch and putting a few photo frames on the coffee table would be an easy job. Not when Marty does it. And being so hot today, he definitely got the easier job.

  Marty let out his own heavy sigh and flopped onto the couch.

  “I have finally found my calling,” he breathed deeply, looking at me on the floor.

  I ignored him and continued my shelving.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Andy, and my calling isn’t to annoy you for the rest of your life.”

  I chuckled and looked back at him.

  “Wait for it … cushion arranging!” he grinned.

  I burst out laughing.

  “Don’t laugh, snot-rag!” he said, crossing his arms. “Cushion arranging isn’t easy. It requires great skill, a creative mind, colour expertise and –”

  “– And someone who knows what they’re doing,” I finished for him, shaking my head.

  “Excuse me! It took me four tries before I was happy with this arrangement, thank you.”

  “Maybe you should think of a job that actually exists.”

  “It does exist,” he snorted. “It’s called interior –”

  “Hey boys!” Mum called from the hallway. She poked her head around the corner and shook the car keys in her hand. “Are you guys up for some ice cream and icy-poles? I think I saw a milk bar up the street.”

  “Yeah!” Marty jumped off the couch. “Arranging cushions is tiring work.” He winked at me, not realising he had sent two cushions to the floor.

  “Marty!” Mum scowled, as she walked into the lounge to pick them up.

  I placed the last book from box number three on the shelf and headed towards the front door.

  Gees, I hate summer. I must be the only twelve-year old in the world who does. I always get sick, sticky from sweat and I can never sleep. Mum reckons I don’t drink enough water. I hate water … unless it’s mixed with cordial, of course. Once the air conditioner is put into this place, I’ll be fine. Hopefully Dad’s having luck finding one at the shop.

  As Mum turned the key in the lock of the car door, the sound of music began to play down the street.

  “What is that?” I asked, turning my head left then right, trying to scan the street.

  “Sounds like a circus,” Marty replied. “They must have accepted your application, Andy!”

  “Considering I put yours in first, they must be coming to get you,” I retorted.

  “Enough, boys,” Mum sighed and opened the driver’s door.

  The noise grew louder and louder. Around the corner came a huge ice cream van.

  “Cool! Nice timing!” Marty exclaimed, walking down the driveway.

  “Yeah, it is,” Mum said, locking the car again.

  The van parked right outside our house, blocking Mum’s car in the driveway.

  The sweaty t-shirt I wore clung to me. As we approached the van, a bead of sweat slid down my face. The van was empty. My heart jumped in my chest. I looked at Mum. She shrugged.

  Where’s the driver?

  I slowly followed Marty around to the back of the van. The doors were closed.

  “Hey, folks!”

  I yelped and Marty jumped back. Staring at us from the counter window was the ice cream man – or as his nametag said: Bob.

  “Hello,” Mum said, looking at the menu on the door. “Boys, what do you say?”

  “Hi,” Marty and I replied slowly.

  Bob’s wide smile never flinched, and his green eyes shone as he continued talking. “You kids must be new to Pine Ridge. I’m –” he pointed to his nametag, “Bob”.

  “Nice to meet you, Bob,” Mum replied. “This is Marty and Andy. I’m Lillian.”

  “Nice to meet you all. What can I get you folks on this fine, hot day? A Super Choc-Strawberry Split perhaps? Or a Caramel Swirl Surprise?”

  I felt his eyes follow me as I joined Mum and Marty looking at the menu. My stomach began to feel queasy at the sight of it.

  I looked around the street. I couldn’t see any other kids coming to get ice cream. There was no one around except for us.

  They all probably have air-conditioned houses and ice creams in their freezers. Still, it’s strange we’re the only people out here. Maybe they’re all at the local pool?

  I looked back at the menu.

  Mum was the first to order.

  “Can I please have a Honeycomb Crunch in a waffle cone?”

  “Certainly, Ma’am, coming right up.”

  “I’ll take a Raspberry Sherbet Swirl, please,” Marty said in his sweetest voice, flashing a smile that could compete with Bob’s.

  “Right away, young man. And what about you, young sir?”

  I felt a knot ball up in my gut. Ice cream didn’t seem appealing to me any more. I began to sway slightly from the heat.

  “I don’t think I’ll have one, thanks, Bob,” I replied, turning away from the menu.

  “Are you sure, Andy?” Mum asked, looking concerned.

  “I’m sure. Just feel a little queasy.”

  “What if I make you a snow cone?” Bob asked. “That’ll make you feel better.”

  I glanced at him, his smile still present. His blue eyes glistened.

  Weren’t they green before?

  “We have all the flavours, son. Raspberry, Blue Heaven, Cola.”

  Maybe a snow cone would be better.

  “You can have it on the house,” Bob winked.

  “Um … okay,” I said. “Can I have Raspberry, please?”

  “Of course!” Bob’s grin grew wider.

  I watched Bob work in the van. He scooped up some ice in a foam cup. He then squeezed a bottle of vibrant red raspberry syrup onto the ice.

  I don’t think I can handle anything sweet now. I feel so sick!

  “Here you are, Sir.”

  “Thanks for those, Bob,” Mum said, after paying him for the ice creams.

  “Anytime, folks. Hope I’ll be running into you again soon.”

  We walked back down the driveway to the house.

  I held my untouched snow cone in my hand. “When will the air-conditioner be put in, Mum?” I asked, closing the screen door behind me.

  “If your father has any luck finding one today, it should be installed in a few days, darling,” she replied, and put her hand on my forehead. “No more unpacking for you today. You’re dehydrated. I’ll get you a glass of
water.”

  I turned to look at the now vacant space outside the house where the van had been.

  How come I didn’t hear him leave? That music was so loud before; it could’ve woken the dead!

  I felt the snow cone melting slowly in its foam cup.

  I hate summer.

  Chapter two

  The next day was even hotter – much to my delight!

  After another tiring morning of unpacking, Dad came up with his second best idea that day: an afternoon at Pine Ridge's swimming pool. Dad’s first great idea was getting Marty to clean the fish tank and kitty litter tray. Marty tried to tell Dad he was going into the cushion-arranging industry, and cleaning fish tanks and emptying kitty litter trays was a conflict of interest.

  As we hopped into the car, Mum glared at Marty from the front seat.

  “Why on earth do you need two sets of flippers and a second snorkel, Marty?” she asked.

  “You never know, Mum. I might make a friend there who likes snorkelling,” he replied.

  When we arrived at the pool, my jaw dropped along with Marty’s. The pool was empty.

  Where are the other kids? Surely they’d be here on a day like this?

  “You guys will have the pool toys all to yourselves,” Mum said, trying to cheer us up.

  We set ourselves up under a tree. I sat on my towel and put on sunscreen.

  “But we’re new here,” Marty wailed, unrolling his towel next to mine. “And I don’t know about Andy, but I’d like to know someone before we start at school.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Well, you guys know Kalisha,” Mum pointed out.

  “She’s in grade six with Andy. What about me, Mum? I don’t know anyone in grade four.”

  I put my arm around his shoulder. I did have Kalisha. We met her the first day we moved into our house – a whole three days ago. Her mum had brought over a cactus that Mittens tried to use as a scratching post.

  They live across the street from us. They moved to Pine Ridge only six months ago.

  Kalisha’s cool. Her family are originally from Nigeria in Africa, but have been living in Australia since Kalisha was two-years-old. She has awesome thin-plaited hair. We saw other kids that day playing down the other end of the street. Even the adults were throwing a ball around. The kids looked Marty’s age, so I hope he gets to know them soon.

  “Well, I suppose these won’t be of use to anyone,” he said, throwing down his spare set of flippers and snorkel on the grass. Marty pulled on his flippers, ready to take on the water. Even though he could be a smarty-pants, he was really just a dork at heart.

  The sound of carnival music floated across the pool grounds.

  Bob’s ice cream van came through the main entry gate. It stopped about fifteen metres from where we were sitting.

  “Perfect timing again!” Marty yelled.

  “Who’s up for ice cream?” Dad asked, grabbing Mum’s wallet from the beach bag.

  “Me!” Marty yelled, trying to sprint in his flippers towards the van.

  Mum, Dad and I followed close behind him.

  “I think you should have an icy-pole today, Andy,” Mum said when we got there. “You didn’t even have any of that snow cone yesterday. With the way you get in the heat, a plain icy-pole might be better for you. What do you think?”

  I had to agree with Mum. At least an icy-pole would cool me down faster.

  “Hello again, folks!”

  “Hey, Bob,” Mum smiled back. “How are you today?”

  “Very well, thank you, Lillian. I love this hot weather.” Bob seemed to ignore Dad’s smiling face, as he turned his attention to Marty and me instead. “And how are you gentlemen today? Having fun in this heat, I take it? Did you enjoy your treats yesterday?”

  “Oh, yeah!” Marty exclaimed.

  Mum nodded.

  “And did you like your snow cone, young man?”

  “Yeah, it was nice … very refreshing,” I lied. My cheeks flushed.

  Now Bob looked at the whole family. “What will it be today?”

  After each order was made, it was my turn.

  “Could I have a Coolly Icy-Pole, please, Bob?”

  Bob’s grin vanished briefly, and then reappeared but it wasn’t as wide this time.

  “You don’t want a Coolly, son. Let Bob make you a Choc-Rainbow. They really hit the spot on a hot day.”

  “No, thank you, Bob,” I said uncomfortably. “Just a Coolly.”

  Bob wasn’t giving up yet.

  “I can make you a Banana Fudge Swirl. On the house again, if you like.”

  I looked at Mum, pleading silently for her to help me out.

  “Thanks, Bob, but Andy will just have a Coolly. No fancy ice cream today. Keep the change.”

  Bob’s blue eyes burned for a second before his hand dived into the freezer. He handed me a wrapped Coolly Icy-Pole; only a small smile greeted me now.

  “Thank you, Bob.” I slowly took it from his hand.

  “Have a good day,” Mum said.

  “Talk about marketing,” Dad muttered at Mum. I guess he was still feeling the sting from being snubbed. “He knows how to put pressure on a kid. Why advertise a product if you’re not willing to sell it?” Dad shook his head.

  “He doesn’t own that brand, though,” Mum informed him. “He probably has to sell them because Coolly own most of the ice cream companies in the country.”

  “Yeah?” Dad asked.

  “Yeah,” Mum replied. “I think this would be a great place to set up an ice cream store. It’s something I’ve actually been considering.” She laughed.

  “That would be cool,” Marty said in between licks.

  I turned my head briefly towards the van. Bob was gone.

  Chapter three

  We had been living in Pine Ridge for almost three weeks when our first day of school arrived. That day at the pool hadn’t been completely wasted, as Marty and I had made two friends that afternoon.

  Peter and Sarah were twins, and luckily for Marty, were in grade four too. They knew a lot of kids at Pine Ridge Primary, and knew a lot about the town.

  I was having lunch at school with Kalisha when Marty came running up to me. His face was bright red and his eyes almost bulged from their sockets.

  “Andy!” he yelled. “Guess what? I know something you don’t know! Kids have disappeared from around here.” He put a hand on my shoulder to steady himself and catch his breath.

  I rolled my eyes and took another bite of my sandwich.

  “Marty, who told you that rubbish?”

  Sarah and Peter ran up behind him, huffing and puffing.

  “They did,” Marty pointed to them.

  I arched my eyebrow at the twins, giving them my best unimpressed look.

  “It’s true!” Peter exclaimed, catching his breath. “My Dad said so.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Actually,” Kalisha said slowly. “I heard something like that too.”

  I glared at her.

  “When I first moved in,” she continued, “the kids in the street were talking about some boy who had disappeared ages ago. I remember them telling me, because they were saying something about an anniversary of his disappearance.” She looked down at her sandwich and shuddered.

  “Yeah, right” I said, trying to swallow my mouthful of bread.

  “Children have gone missing since then,” said Sarah, nodding her head.

  “If this has been going on for so long –” I began to say.

  “– Every few years or so kids are taken –” Peter said seriously.

  “– From playgrounds and pools –” Sarah interrupted.

  “– And even their own front yards –” Peter continued.

  “– And never seen again … ever,” Sarah breathed.

  “Ever.” Peter added.

  A hush fell over us.

  I snorted. “What a load of hog-wash! How can kids be taken away from public places like that without anyone noticing?
”

  “Tomorrow will be the thirteenth anniversary of the first child taken,” said Sarah.

  “That’s before you were even born! Why haven’t you been taken then?” I retorted.

  “Well …” Sarah stumbled.

  “Our parents have been careful,” Peter said, his chin held high.

  “And what about the families of these missing kids?” I asked. “Where are they now?”

  “A lot of them moved away once the police couldn’t find anything. The family of the first child moved away ages ago,” Peter said.

  “So if this town is so dangerous, why are there families still living here then?” I tapped my foot on the asphalt.

  “People forget,” Peter replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It happened a long time ago, so Mums and Dads think it’s safe to live here now.”

  “Check your newspaper,” Sarah said quietly. “You’ll see then.”

  There was silence again. Four pairs of eyes stared at me. I looked at Kalisha and she shrugged.

  Big help you are.

  I sighed. “Okay, I will.”

  Chapter four

  When we got home from school, Marty raced into the kitchen.

  “You don’t waste time eating, do you?” I called out from the lounge, dropping my backpack on the couch.

  Instead of coming back with an apple or some popcorn, he ran towards me with the newspaper in his hand.

  “What they said was true!”

  He held the paper up to my face, and I read the headline: ‘Thirteen Years On, Still A Lost Soul.’

  What the …?

  I snatched the paper out of his hands and sat down on the couch.

  No, it can’t be true … Can it?

  Staring back at me from the page was a black and white photograph of a boy.

  He doesn’t look that much older than Marty.

  Underneath the photo, the caption read: ‘The body of ten-year old Martin Caser was never found.’

  He even shares Marty’s name!

  I silently read the article:

  Thursday, the sixth of February will mark the heartbreaking thirteenth anniversary of the disappearance of Pine Ridge Primary School student, Martin Caser.

  That’s tomorrow!

  “What does it say?” Marty’s shadow cast a wave of darkness over the article.