The sun, it was very hot today. The air felt thick, like a warm blanket pushed down on me. I stood in the line for the ice cream shop, a long line, it curved around the building. Many people were here, all wanting something cold. Little kids, they were running and laughing, making loud happy noises. Parents were holding hands, some were looking at their phones. I was just looking at the big menu board, trying to decide what kind of ice cream I would get. My favorite part of summer is the taste of strawberry ice cream with those little cookie bits. It makes my tongue feel cool and happy. I like to think about small things like that. Sometimes, when I am waiting, I pick up a smooth stone from the river near my home. I have a box full of them, all different colors and sizes, all smooth from the water. It makes me feel calm. This line was long, but I was not in a hurry. I just wanted my ice cream. It was a good day, I thought.
Then, a woman came. She was not in the line. She just walked past many people, pushing a stroller with a very small baby inside. Two other children, a boy and a girl, they were maybe five or six years old, they walked next to her, almost running to keep up. The woman, she looked around. Her hair was light, almost yellow, and cut short, not messy but very stiff, like she spent much time to make it that way. She had a colorful purse hanging on her arm. She did not look at the people in the line, she looked over their heads, like she was looking for something important far away. Her children, they were not quiet. The little boy was tugging at her shirt, asking for something loud. The little girl was trying to push the stroller, but it was too big for her. The baby in the stroller was making soft crying noises.
She stopped near the front of the line, not exactly at the very front, but very close. She stood there for a moment, then she looked at the people around her. Her eyes were not friendly. They looked like she was a little bit annoyed, like everyone else was doing something wrong by being there. I was a few people behind her now. She opened her mouth and spoke. I could not hear all her words at first, but I heard her voice. It was not soft. It was a voice that carried, a little bit sharp. She was saying something about being in a hurry, about her kids. She gestured to the stroller, then to the other two children who were now starting to wander a little bit away from her, looking at the ice cream posters.
A man in front of me, he was a tall man with a hat, he turned his head slowly. He said something back to her, very quiet, like a whisper. I think he said she needed to go to the back of the line. But the woman, she did not listen. Her voice got louder. She pointed to her children again. She said they were tired, that they needed ice cream now. Her words were like hard stones, not smooth river stones. She started to take a step forward, trying to go in front of the tall man. The tall man, he did not move. He just stood there, looking straight ahead at the menu board, like he did not even see her. This made her face red. She puffed her cheeks out.
The children, they were still restless. The little boy found a small empty wrapper on the ground and started to tear it into tiny pieces. The little girl wandered to a small display of candy near the counter. It was not her turn, but she reached out her hand. A worker, a young man with a friendly smile, he was scooping ice cream for someone. He saw the girl and shook his head gently. He said, Please wait your turn. The woman, she heard this. Her head snapped to look at the worker. Her voice grew even louder. She said, My children are hot and tired! We need to go first! My baby is hungry! She sounded very angry now. She had a little red mark on her cheek, a small birthmark like a tiny red flower petal, that seemed to grow darker with her anger.
I felt my own good mood starting to melt away, like an ice cube left in the sun. It was not fair. Everyone else was hot too. Everyone else was waiting. My mind, it felt fuzzy. It was like I could not understand why she thought she was special. Did she not see the long line? Did she not see all the other people with their own children, waiting patiently? The worker, he looked a little scared. He said, Ma’am, everyone has to wait. We are very busy. This made her angrier still. She started to make many loud noises with her mouth, words coming out fast, too fast to understand all of them. She was pointing her finger at the worker, then at the tall man, then at me. Her voice was sharp like a knife.
Suddenly, one of her children, the little boy, he was running and not looking. He tripped over his own feet. He fell forward, a loud yelp coming from him. He landed near a small cooler where they kept special ice cream bars in plastic. His knee hit the cooler door and it swung open a little bit. Some of the ice cream bars spilled out onto the floor. They were still in their wrappers, but they made a soft thudding sound. The boy started to cry, a very loud, high-pitched scream. This was not a quiet crying. It was a sound that made my ears feel hot. The little girl rushed to him, then started to cry too, because he was crying. The baby in the stroller, startled by the noise, also began to wail, a long, mournful sound.
Now, there was a lot of noise. Three children crying, the woman shouting, and the spilled ice cream bars. The worker looked very tired. He put down his scoop. The woman, she did not even look at her crying son first. She looked at the fallen ice cream bars, then at the worker. She shouted, Look what you made him do! This is your fault! You made my children wait too long! My patience, it was all gone. My calm river stones feeling, it was gone. My head felt hot. My heart felt fast. This was not right. This was not fair. I took a deep breath, like I was going to shout too. I looked at her. My voice, it felt strong, not shaky. I said, Nobody made your child do anything. He was running. You need to pick up your child and your ice cream. And you need to go to the back. Everyone is waiting. It is not fair for us to wait when you make this mess and try to push in front.
The woman, her mouth opened wide. She looked at me. Her eyes were very big. She did not expect me to talk like that, I think. She sputtered some words, like tiny rocks coming out. She said, How dare you! Do you know who I am? I said, I don’t care who you are. We are all people here. We are all waiting. The worker, he came around the counter. He looked at the spilled ice cream bars, then at the crying children, then at the woman, then at me. He looked sad. He said, Ma’am, you need to clean up the spilled items. And if you cannot wait in line like everyone else, I will have to ask you to leave. There are other customers who want to buy ice cream.
The woman’s face, it was very red now, like a tomato. Her shoulders went up, then down. She looked at the worker, then at me, then at the line of people who were all looking at her now. The noise of her crying children slowly started to get a little bit quieter. She bent down, slowly, and picked up the spilled ice cream bars. She put them back in the cooler, not very neatly. She did not say anything. She just turned the stroller around, and then she walked away, pushing the stroller with the crying baby. Her other two children, they followed her, quiet now, sniffing. She did not look back. My chest still felt tight. My stomach felt a little bit shaky. The line started to move forward again. The worker, he came back to the counter, sighing a big sigh. He looked at the place where the ice cream was spilled. He had to clean it up. I felt bad for him. He just wanted to scoop ice cream. He did not make the mess.
