Who gets the worm?
I was at my local creemee stand today. (For nonVermonters, that’s soft custard ice cream.) A woman was there with a group of seven or eight children. Two were fairly young. Two were on the older side, and the other three or four were in-between in age. They had all already ordered. I’m fairly sure the woman had helped the younger two to order. She sat on a bench waiting as the children stood in line to receive their ice creams. One of the youngest, a little girl, was quietly distraught because she had not realized that gummy worms were an option for toppings. She had only ordered Oreo crumbs. She asked one of the older boys if she could have just one of his gummy worms. “No,” he said. “Too bad for you, you didn’t order them.” The little girl looked quietly sad and explained, “I didn’t know they had them.” The boy repeated, “Too bad.” One of the in-between aged little boys gestured to the menu chalkboard and said to the gummy worm boy, “Maybe she can’t read.” The older boy just smirked. Earlier as he waited for his ice cream he had started a discussion with the other older boy about how easy it would be for someone to swipe the tip jar. He went on to say, “Imagine if you grabbed it and just ran away really fast straight through the park.” He pointed across the street. Someone else responded, “What would happen if you got caught?” The older boy replied, “A cop would open fire on you.” Two other little boys who were not with the original group were in front of me in line. They started to order very politely and kept themselves separate from the other children, especially the loud, bigger boys. The little girl stepped up to the receiving window when they called out her ice cream order. “Just a minute,” I said to the server, “could you do me a favor and put one gummy worm on her ice cream and I’ll pay for it when I order?” She looked a bit confused but she did it. I’m a regular. She knows me. The little girl smiled shyly at me and I found myself making the same clicking sound of satisfaction my dad used to make. She walked triumphantly away with her gummy worm. When I stepped up to order my ice cream I explained how the older boy had not been willing to share. “Screw him,” I said. The server smiled in solidarity, her new nose ring shining.
Cinse Bonino
2023
