Wrapped in Rain(73)

I held out my hand and was about to ask him if he knew what time it was, but I heard footsteps. They were slow, plodding, and purposeful. I didn't have to turn around. Mutt circled the truck, taking it in, his eyes darting steadily back and forth, hands covered in rubber gloves, and a spray bottle of cleaner looped over his back pocket. He sprayed the front window, cleaned it, and then stepped up to the side window, sprayed it, and began wiping it down. The kid looked at Mutt and said, "Thanks, buddy. I'm giving you a 5 percent discount."

Mutt held out a handful of quarters and said, "I'd like two scoops of chocolate, with a fudgesicle; without some pop rocks; two cream-filled banana popsicles; and a pack of Big Red." Without batting an eye, the kid in the clown suit said, "Regular or sugar?"

Mutt thought for a moment. "One of each." Mutt's fanny pack was draped oddly around his waist and apparently stuffed tight.

The kid quickly slammed a scoop of chocolate on each type of cone, sprinkled on a conservative teaspoon of nuts, wrapped each in a napkin, slipped a pack of pop rocks and gum from a bin above his head, and then dug the fudgesicle and banana popsicles out of the deep freezer in front of him. Meanwhile, white exhaust swirled up and made me dizzy.



The kid extended his hands through the window, filling Mutt's, and without aid of cash register, calculator, or the tips of his fingers and toes, he said, "With tax, and minus five percent, that'll be $7.86, please."

Mutt dropped a handful of quarters in the clown's hand and said, "You owe me fourteen cents." The kid reached in his pocket, handed Mutt a nickel and dime, and said, "Thanks, pal." Mutt took two steps backward, sat down on the first step, and began methodically licking the sides of his chocolate cone. I turned back to the kid, who was smiling even more widely under the weight of thirty-two quarters, and was about to ask my question when I heard the second and third sets of footsteps. The first was short, choppy, and light; the second was slower and more purposeful, yet still light.

Jase reached the truck, jumped on the back tire, and pulled himself up on the window, where he hung, straining to hold his chin barely above the countertop. He said, "I'd like a rocket man rocket bar, without, and ..." He lost his grip and fell backwards, where I caught him. While I held him two feet above the ground, he finished his order, ". . . a cherry popsicle." I set him down and he said, "Thanks, Unca Tuck."

Katie walked across the grass, onto the gravel, and stood by the window with a five-dollar bill in her hand. The clown reached through the window, handed Jase his goods, and then turned to Katie. "Anything for you, ma'am?"

"You said you have bubbles?" The kid nodded and quickly retrieved a huge bottle of blowing bubbles from a bin next to the seat. In the two minutes he had stood there, he had been able to reach around the cabin of that truck without ever moving his feet. Evidently, he had designed the operating space with an eye toward space and time studies.



Katie said, "Thank you," and the kid turned to me. "Sir, that'll be $3.79."

"Oh ... yeah, right." I reached in my pocket, which was empty, so I shoved my hand in the other, but it was empty too. Katie laughed, handed the kid the five dollars, and waved him off when he tried to give her back a dollar plus change. While the dumb look continued to spread across my face, the kid reached below his seat, pulled out a green thermos, refilled my coffee cup, and handed it to me. "You folks have a great day." Three seconds later, he jumped into the squeaky front seat, dropped the gearshift into drive, gunned the engine so it wouldn't stall, and showered our feet with pebbles and clouded our lungs with carbon monoxide.

The four of its sat on the front steps licking, sucking, sipping, blowing, and just breathing. In my entire life at Waverly, I had never seen an ice cream truck venture down our driveway, yet the three of them acted like it happened every day.

Mutt finished his ice cream and began tearing the paper off his cream-filled banana popsicles. "Morning, Mutt," I said. He never even looked at me. He bit half of the first popsicle and sat chewing on it like a piece of steak, oblivious to the effects of cold on his teeth. After three or four hearty bites, he swallowed it whole and then consumed the second half in like fashion.

With the second popsicle just inches from his mouth, Mutt paused, looked out the corner of his eye, and saw Jase sitting next to him, shoulder to rib cage. Mutt's eyes turned to me, then Katie. He said nothing but scooted three inches to the left, opening the space between himself and Jase. Jase, not noticing Mutt's intention, subconsciously leaned closer to Mutt and continued licking the chocolate off his rocket bar. Mutt's eyes darted from Katie to me to Jase, and his face contorted and grew more nervous and fearful. While Jase spread chocolate across his cheeks, Mutt stood up, stepped over me, and sat at the far end of the step, alone. Jase, engrossed in his breakfast, straightened and continued digging his teeth into the layers of chocolate. Katie sat on the step next tojase, leaned back against the second step, watched the clown drive out of Waverly, and dipped her bubble stick in the bottle.



Having finished his breakfast, Mutt stood up, his hands filled with wrappers, and stepped in a wide circle around us. He smelled like the barn, but I didn't quite know how to tell him. "Hey, Mutt, if you want, I'll go with you to get a new hot water heater for the barn. I need to pick up a few things anyway."