Thread: Another City Story

A Forever Face

When the traffic signal turned green, the shiny, late-model automobile moved slowly across the intersection, but instead of continuing along the street, it swerved into a parking space right in front of where we were playing on the sidewalk. When the car stopped, a window rolled down and the head of a middle-aged man became visible to all of us. The well-groomed stranger thrust his hand through the window, and immediately we noticed the folded bill pressed between his fingertips. “Hey, you kids,” the man shouted in a pleasant tone, “do any of you know where Therese’s Italian Restaurant is located?”

Dickie quit tossing the football and approached the opened window with the rest of us trailing closely behind him. Sitting alongside the man was a pretty lady wearing a lovely pink outfit. And, in the back seat, all alone, was a wide-eyed boy about our age, 10, dressed in his Sunday's best.

All of us huddled around the man, aware of the bill in his hand. Dickie, his cheeks smeared with dirt, was closest to him, and he provided the proper directions. With his finger pointing down the street, Dickie said, "Mister, all you have to do is go straight for another five blocks and then hook a right when you get to Morton Street.”

The man smiled before pressing the dollar bill into Dickie’s palm. “You kids go get yourselves some ice cream,” he said, before rolling up the window to keep the cool air inside the car from escaping. Then, the stranger put the car into drive to proceed to his destination. Exuberant, the four of us ran toward the candy store on the corner to get our ice cream. Dickie and my other two friends burst through the door of Charlie’s candy before I did, and just before I went inside, I turned toward the departing automobile to sneak one last peek at the boy in the back seat.

I saw him with his immaculate palms against the rear window, staring hard at me through the glistening glass. His suit was a spiffy navy blue, the same color of his tie. And his shirt was white, as white as the vanilla ice cream I was about to order for myself. Every strand of his glossy black hair was combed to satisfaction, and the boy reminded me of a replica of his parents in the front seat.

His face became blurry as the automobile moved farther down the street away from the corner. But I was still able to catch a last glimpse of the sad expression on his face. Those eyes frozen with envy and that mouth gaping looking like the words "Wait for me" would soon come shooting out of it. Obviously, the boy longed to be free, to run and to play and to do things children his age were supposed to do. He appeared uncomfortable in his role as a miniature man trapped alone in the back seat of his daddy’s luxury automobile.

As I my fingers grasped the rusty handle of door leading into Charlie’s candy store, I could see my three friends already gathered around the counter to order their ice cream. Then, I thought of the boy, but only for a fleeting moment. How he must have wished he was with us when he watched every joyful leap we made, as we raced away from his daddy’s polished Cadillac toward the candy store. I hurled one final glance at the car, but could no longer see the boy. The distance between the car and me had blurred my visibility, and, besides, my urge for ice cream had diminished my interest in him.

The passage of time has erased many an incident from my memory. But time hasn’t been able wipe the boy's sad face from my mind. That pitiful face, the one I saw just before disappearing into the candy store was a face destined to be etched forever in memory.

I have read a lot of posts on this website. Many of them I have trouble following. This post, however, made me feel like I was one of the kids playing on the street. I could relate with all of the characters. I understood the boy in the backseat. I too have felt out of place as a child, and wanted nothing more than to go play. I have also felt concern for those who seemed to be silently suffering while others seem oblivious. And finally, I find humor in the fact that, as a child, I as well have been distracted by what is happening in front of me by the prospect of ice cream.

Very well done -- you kept my attention, and that is something in my book.

Terrific the way you've captured this small moment in time. Maybe it's because I was raised watching TV, but I can see your story unfolding on the screen, the boy desperately staring out the back seat, your friends already in the candy store and you trapped somewhere in between. Loved the contrast between Dickie who had dirt on his face and the boy in the back seat who's hair was combed perfectly, his little suit impeccable.

Excellent piece in such a short space.