Heero's Day of Indulgence
"Well hello handsome! Ready for this week's new flavor?"
Her name is Fay. She sells ice cream.
I passed by the building every day on my way to and from work. An ice cream shop that claimed to sell more than a hundred different flavors.
Intellectually I know what ice cream is, a simple solution of refined sugar and milk containing water, lipids, proteins and lactose. Nothing more then a basic chemical equation.
And yet.
And yet I saw people enter the little shop, faces worn from their day, and then emerge later with a smile.
I wanted to know why.
I am not in the habit of allowing myself indulgences. A life of stark commands and straight lines is deeply ingrained into my entire existence. I'm not a machine, I do have emotions, I just don't always know what to do with them or what they mean.
When the war with Oz ended, I wandered around aimlessly, attempting to find answers to questions I didn't quite know how to ask. When Relena was kidnaped, I found myself back in combat and one of those questions was answered.
I wasn't a machine, but I was a weapon.
And yet.
And yet I wanted to live my life without always killing and fighting. I wanted my skills to be used for another purpose other then death.
So I joined Preventers and found a place for myself. A place I could fight but not kill. A place I could rest and continue to ask and answer questions.
And one of those questions was about ice cream. How could something so simple make people so happy?
The first time I entered the shop I felt foolish. I was extremely aware of how little I knew and how painfully obvious it was. There were a few other customers and they all seemed to know exactly what they wanted, speaking a code I struggled to follow.
Double scoop sundae, cherry on top.
Banana split with hot fudge and caramel sauce.
A cup of cookie dough.
A large waffle cone with extra nuts.
The sheer number of containers resting in the long freezer was daunting enough. The claim of more than a hundred flavors, was obviously not an idle boast.
I felt overwhelmed and I wanted to run away.
And then the woman behind the counter looked at me, smiled and called me handsome.
"Hello handsome. I haven't seen you before, what can I get you?"
I told her the truth. "I don't know."
Nobody has ever called me handsome. I've been called many things in my lifetime ranging from Heero Yuy to zero-one. But never handsome.
She watched me patiently, waiting, and I felt I could tell her and she wouldn't mock me.
"I've never had ice cream before."
And so it began. Every Sunday afternoon I come to the ice cream shop and try a different flavor. I have made certain discoveries along the way. Taste for example. I have learned that it's alright to dislike something. Eating and drinking is more then just a necessary action I need to perform for my body to function. Liver may be full of iron and protein but that doesn't mean I have to eat it. I can hate it. And I do. Not many understand why this makes me so happy.
I don't like coffee. I don't like the way it tastes. It's bitter and acidic and makes my stomach hurt when I drink it. But I love coffee ice cream. The day I tried mocha almond fudge was a good day.
The day I tried pistachio was not.
Fay's husband is called Frank. I learned that they've been selling ice cream for over twenty-five years and that they're both in their fifties with matching grey hair. When Fay smiles she has two dimples, one on each cheek. When Frank smiles he gets little bags under his eyes, he says they leave smile bruises.
Today Fay hands me a cup with a scoop of something white, purple, blue and mauve.
"It's called Tickleberry."
I look at her quickly to see if she is teasing me but she appears serious. "What's a tickleberry?"
"Well it's not an actual berry. It's vanilla ice cream with swirls of different berries in it. Can you guess which ones?"
Fay enjoys my visits and always calls me handsome. Frank calls me the ice cream inspector and says he's busy thinking of new flavors so I'll keep coming back after I've tried the first one hundred.
I'd like that.
The ice cream is sweet in my mouth and I can taste the vanilla. The other flavors are slightly more elusive, and I struggle to separate them for identification.
"Blueberry."
She nods and I close my eyes concentrating on the taste in my mouth.
"Raspberry."
I open one eye to check with her and close it again after another nod of encouragement.
"Blackberry."
She claps her hands and I smile a little. Smiling is also new.
"Do you like it?" Her eyes seem to sparkle and I realize that making people happy gives her pleasure.
Swallowing another bite, I nod. "But it's not my favorite." I surprise myself by saying this but feel the words settle inside me and know they ring true.
I have a favorite.
"Oh?"
I nod again and point further down the freezer, back to the section with the m's. "Yes. Mocha Almond Fudge is definitely my favorite."
Later, as I leave the shop, I touch the upturned corners of my mouth and understand.
Ice cream makes people happy because it feels good. Funny how something so cold can make me feel so warm inside. I look down at the scoop of ice cream Fay gave me for guessing correctly, and smile a little wider.
Mocha Almond Fudge.
Today is a good day.
