It felt cold and lifeless in my hands and yet I knew my life depended on it at that moment.
“What, so you are not going to share?” Ada asked sassily
I pretended like I didn’t hear her speak, kept my gaze trailed on the sparkling sun and hummed Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking out loud’ with a bit too much zest.
I didn’t want ITS essence to erode in my hands, it would be as painful as watching the eyes of a friend fade into oblivion, never to wrinkle in humor at your dry jokes.
So I took my first scoop, swabbing my tongue over its smooth cone with practiced speed and amateurish delight.
“Hmmm…” I moaned in exaggerated ecstasy
Ada looked at me with disgust on her face
“Gross” she muttered
But I knew her theatrics.
“Would you want some?” I offered
She seemed to ponder on it for a while, keeping her gazes fixed on mine, searching for any trace of mischief.
But I’d gotten too good at this to be thrown off guard. I kept my expression cool and apologetic.
When she had ascertained my intentions as pure, she replied with feigned nonchalance
“Not really, but since you asked, lemme see what’s so good about it”
I smiled mischievously and thought to myself:
“You’d think she has learnt by now”
“Do you really want to know what’s great about it?” I asked still smiling
“Huhh… yeah, I just said that” Ada replied impatiently
I pounced on the moment with the reflex of a street fighter
“It’s great because I know you are not getting even a sniff of it” I said laughing in my trademark baritone
Ada wasn’t thrilled at all, she pranced dramatically away from me, muttering under her breath.
I took my second scoop, this time flickering my tongue over its edges for a while and digging into its soft core, when I retrieved my tongue, it carried with it a promising scoop of whiteness.
I couldn’t wait for the big finish though I wouldn’t mind either. I wanted to experience that big sigh and cool feeling of satiation that comes with the last taste of coldness.
I walked towards the car still humming gaily. Ada was seated at the front still pouting indignantly.
I ignored her completely, no one was going to spoil this experience for me. At least that was how I felt until Daisy reached out with her tiny fingers in appeal
“Ice cream!” she exclaimed in pure delight like she was promised one.
I groaned. I was determined not to fall for the cute kid trick that was always played to perfection.
I turned to my left and caught Ada staring at me with amusement on her eyes
“What?” I queried knowing fully well what she meant
She just kept daring me with her eyes.
I pretended not to notice and kept scooping generous portions with my tongue, praying for the ultimate big finish.
Finally it came and I had my cool satiated feeling stamped by a big sigh.
But when I turned to face the other occupants of the car, all my elation came crashing down.
I drove in silence thinking of possible ways to make up for my wrong.
Finally it all boiled down to replacing their thirst for vengeance with an icy and sweet substitute.
As I watched them go through the same emotional curve like me, it occurred to me that I had just found an apt metaphor.
The pleasure of life is not thinking about living it and everything stops when we start recounting our past glories.
EMMANUEL CHIKA PRINCE.
updated by @ceri-shaw: 11/26/17 09:29:57PM