Guaranteed to Warm The Soul
One of the best parts of living here will always be the Autumn season. Some days, when my regrets and anxieties seem to creep up on me- all I need is a walk outside. With brisk air, a kind wind, and the foliage a blend of amber and marigold; you’ll rarely find yourself in the turmoil you started with. Thus, I’ve found myself taking frequent walks. I was never one for hiking, so my daily strolls around the park are what give me peace and a quietness in my head (rather than my lungs burning and sweat in uncomfortable places). I enjoy the people watching too, seeing humans and monsters mingle… It makes me happy.
It’s been three years since monsters had first appeared on the surface, obviously there were growing pains. Us humans already struggled to get along with ourselves. Monsters were resilient in the face of adversity, and met human’s prejudice head-on with patience and cooperation. There were notable figures such as the King, Queen, the young and high-spirited mute ambassador, and many more. They brought new technology, ideas, creations… and of course, lots of precious metals and gems.
Which did not take us very long to pounce on, but I digress.
Each one that I’ve met has always been kind, whether it be at the grocer or even on these very walks. They have a sort of… openness to them, where you just know that they wear their heart on their sleeves- our soul. Figure of speech.
Most of the humans here still seem to stick to themselves, and that unfortunately includes me. Not because of any prejudice- more so because… well… if I had to choose my most notable trait it would be my gift of being an inactive participant (see: wallflower).
And that’s what I like… being on the outside of it all. Sticking to myself, by myself, on a slightly damp bench.
Maybe I am not a fan of damp benches, actually.
I sigh as I stand to my feet, internally wincing at the probable wet spot on my behind. I turn to shoot the seat a glare. I could cut my outing short, but I want to try to make it to the fountain in the middle of the park…
I soon come to regret the decision, as cold and wet pants don’t make for a good feeling. However, my eyes catch on something new before I can turn around- an ice cream stand.
In this weather?
My brows lower slightly and I unfortunately stare at it for a second too long, as the vendor calls out to me.
“Ah! Would you like some Nice Cream?”
My mouth parts slightly as I take in the monster manning the small cart, he’s a tall, anthropomorphic rabbit monster, with baby blue fur and a funny-looking tuft of longer hair on top of his head. His uniform makes my eyes hurt a bit, a sunny-yellow shirt and ketchup red suspenders and pants.
I stare at the wheels on the nice cream cart, “Isn’t it too cold for that?”
It’s 60 degrees.
He laughs in response, the sound is warm and friendly. He stops to brace himself on the cart and waves. “Nah! It’s the frozen treat that warms your heart, guaranteed!”
I bite my lip, and shrink into my coat, mulling over my thoughts. I could just buy the ice cream, stick it in the back of my freezer for who knows how long, at least until I do another deep clean… or I could politely decline by saying no.
My eyes wander for a moment before returning back to the vendor, “Okay.”
I am weak willed.
I make my way to him and fish out a five from my wallet. I pick a flavor and he beams as he pulls out a cute looking two-scoop ice cream from the freezer cart. I exchange my bill for the dessert and hold the cone awkwardly, “Uh, you can, keep the change.”
He nods, “Thanks! You know, you're actually my first human customer! Glad to know you guys enjoy nice cream year-round! So, what’d you think?”
He looks so earnest. I’d hate to not give any feedback. I take a lick, bracing myself for a cold or numb mouth, when a sudden warmness comes over me, like I just got swaddled with a thick, heated comforter. I blink in surprise at the treat and look at him, my eyes resting on his bunny-ears, “It’s good. I feel warm.”
His head tilts, “What did I tell ya?”
His energy is infectious and my mouth quirks up awkwardly.
My cheeks feel hot.
His nose twitches as he looks at me with a grin.
My butt is still wet and cold.
“Well,” I shrug, “The only ice cream I’ve had is cold.”
“Well, it’s Nice Cream! Not ice cream.” He says pointedly. “And if you enjoy it that much, you can take a punch card! Three of ‘em means you can get a free treat!” He holds out a colorful card which I gently take and tuck it into my pocket.
“Thanks.” I murmur.
As I head back, I’m slow to eat the ice cream. Normally, interactions like that make me feel ill… but this time I left feeling… okay.
I crunch into the waffle cone thoughtfully.
---
I end up returning.
And again.
It turns into a routine… I catch myself watching the clock, counting down to my lunch for when I can go on my walk and stop to see- get nice cream.
Well into the freezing temperatures of Winter actually.
And I get stares from people, obviously, because who eats nice cream when there are spots of ice creeping along the sidewalk and the grass has frost on it.
When I turned in my three cards, seven weeks after the first meeting, I learned his name.
He took the punch cards and with a flourish presented me with another nice cream, this time there were bunny-shaped sprinkles on it. His nose twitched and he scratched the back of his neck, “Hope you don’t mind, but thought you’d like something a little different.”
I don’t. I’m not a fan of trying new things, mixed textures are weird, and I already know what I like.
But that’s not something I should say aloud.
“Thanks…” I stare at the nice cream for a moment, the gesture is not lost on me, and my eyes flick back to him. “Uh… I don’t know your name.” I blink and explain, “It’s for my calendar. I like putting names to events.”
It hits me right as I finish talking, that saying you need someone’s name for a calendar event isn’t typical. My eyes widen a bit as I realize my error and I can feel shame creep-
“Ben!” He exclaims. “Name’s Ben.”
Oh.
My shoulders loosen. I hold out my hand to him; my arm hangs in the air for a few beats before his hand finds mine. His palms have what seem to be a type of leathery pad, and his fur is soft.
Very soft. Like something you’d feel on a brand new blanket before one too many washes broke down the fibers.
I give him my name in return, tell him his hand feels like a blanket, and leave promptly.
When I get home, I kick myself mentally for talking so much without thinking. Normally I am decent with conversations, albeit a bit awkward, but nothing like this…
I stare at the Nice Cream in my hand, it hasn’t melted.
My chest feels funny.
I take off the toppings above my kitchen trash with a spoon and eat what’s left of it.
---
Seeing Ben has become a routine, and a highlight. We started talking more, after I learned his name. I make it a point to greet him on my walks, and some days I don’t buy anything. When I do (each Thursday) I wonder if I linger too much, but Ben squashed that thought down recently…
I shift my weight stiffly, “I’m not bothering you… right?”
Ben quirks a brow, “Huh? No way- talking with you always makes the time go faster.” After a beat of silence he adds, “Believe me, you’re really not. I’d tell you if you were.”
I feel lighter after that.
“So what’d you think?”
Ben’s voice jolts me from my reminiscing, I wasn’t paying attention.
“Huh?”
He huffs a short laugh, “The re-brand thing. Thought it’d be good to have an updated image now that we’re on the surface.” He leans on the cart with his chin resting on his palm.
Right. Ben’s been tossing around the idea of rebranding since coming up here, but hasn’t quite figured out how to get that ball rolling, hence the pause in it.
“I could help.”
It would be easy.
“I know graphic design.” I can’t really read his face so I rush, “It wouldn’t be a problem at all, and, only if you want-”
Ben quickly says yes.
I smile down at my shoes, pleased with myself.
He’s kind and insists on paying me, but truthfully I would have done it for free. I feel like it’s the least I could do, after all, he puts up with my maladroit conversations and ramblings.
“There’s a cafe not far from here, you could walk there if you wanted to, we could maybe meet up there this weekend…?” He scratches the back of his neck.
“Okay.”
Ben perks up, “Great!” He clears his throat, “Great.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it out to me, “Mind exchanging digits? It’d probably be easier to keep in contact.”
I wiggle my fingers at him and joke, “Digits.”
He returns my smile and humors me with a chuckle.
“But yes. That- that makes sense.” I type in my information and hand it back to him. “I can send you a profile photo later.”
He nods and his eyes linger on the phone screen for a moment, “Oh- yeah.”
We stand in silence for a moment.
“Well… I’ll see you this weekend.”
Ben hums, “For sure!”
I leave somewhat abruptly, but I've been doing that more frequently and he doesn't seem to mind.
About ten minutes later my phone vibrates. It’s a text message from a new number that reads, ‘Hey! It’s Ben, would Saturday at 11 work?’
I confirm the details with him on my way home and make him his own contact.
I add a rabbit emoji to his name and can’t help but wonder if we are friends.
I’d like to think we are.
At least acquaintances.
At least.