DISCLAIMER: I do not own Horton Hears a Who!.
"What kind of ice cream do you want?" Ned asked JoJo.
The two were standing in line at Swirlys, the best ice cream shop in town. Sandra, the cashier, waited patiently with a small notepad and pencil in her hands. Ned already knew what JoJo wanted. He used to take JoJo to Swirlys all the time when he were little and JoJo always got the same thing everytime they'd go.
"A cherry cheesecake sundae," JoJo said. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'm not getting anything. I'm trying to cut back," Ned said, massaging his temples. "Why don't you find us a nice place to sit down?"
JoJo looked like he was about to say something to him but decided not to hold up the already pilling line of customers.
Ned pulled out his debit card.
"It's been a while since I saw you last, Mr. Mayor. But I must admit," Sandra said. "Today you look a little troubled."
Ned forced his cheek muscles up as high as they could possibly go. A good mayor never takes his bad mood with him to town and he never shares it with his citizens. He must always be in smiles.
"I'm fine," Ned said as he swiped his card.
"How about a free vanilla cone on the house?"
"No, thank you," Ned said. He crumbled up his receipt and then scooped the bowl of ice cream in his arms.
Ned tried to locate where JoJo had gone off too. He found the Who boy sitting with his knees up in a booth right next to the emergency exit door. The booth was completely away from all the other, regular four-top tables.
Ned suddenly felt his temples pulsate. He was pretty sure that JoJo had probably chosen that particular spot because he was much too embarrassed to be seen eating with his "lame" dad in public. The booth, just like JoJo's room, seemed like a territory as Ned sat down.
"Thanks," JoJo said and then pulled the sundae toward himself.
The few seconds it took for JoJo to tear his spoon out of the wrapper, seemed like a million years to Ned. He decided if he wanted to patch things up with his son, he had to say something.
"Um, so, how's school?" he tried.
"Fine, I guess," JoJo said through a mouthful. "I mean, I still hate it except for music class and lunch break."
Ned forced a smile. "Has your new desk come in yet?"
JoJo shook his head. "Not yet," he kept acting like he was about to say something really important again but everytime, he'd mask the attempt with a spoon full of ice cream.
As Ned watched JoJo devour the rest of his frozen desert, he rummaged his brain for something else to talk about. But all that he had on his mind were questions, like:
What am I doing wrong as a father?
Who is making fun of you at school?
When did you start addressing me as Mayor rather than Dad?
Why do you hate me so much?
How can I be a better father?
"Thanks for the sundae," JoJo said, sitting his spoon down. He pinched out a few napkins from the napkin dispenser and wiped his sticky mouth.
Ned's thinks were interrupted. "Oh, you're welcome," he said.
"You should have gotten some too."
Ned looked down at his lap, remembering his Giant Meatball in the mirror the other night. "Maybe another time," he said.
JoJo glowered at him. "Well, I guess I'm going to go get some water or something."
"No, let me get it for you," Ned offered.
He picked up the empty, plastic sundae bowl and spoon and took it with him to the trash can by the beverage machine. Some how, the spoon slipped loose from his middle and index finger and fell right on the maple, polished floor. Ned had very weak hands and his grip wasn't as strong as it could be. People always mistook his dropping things all the time as clumsiness. It was just another lame and embarrassing trait of his for JoJo to be ashamed of.
Ned sighed at the spoon on the floor. As he bend over to retrieve it, he felt his butt bump someone down.
"Ow!" a girl about JoJo's age cried. The front of her fur dress was drenched in a wave of melted sherbet. "Dad, that man like knocked me down with his whonormous butt and now my dress is like ruined."
There was a fury of laughter and sticky, phlegm-filled giggles. Everywho was looking over at Ned, except JoJo, who had a hand slapped over his forehead as if to say, "Way to go, Mayor!"
The girl's father rushed over to help his mortified daughter and hooked his hands under her arms, hoisting her up off the floor.
"I'm so sorry," Ned told him. "I didn't know she was behind me."
Ned glanced over his shoulder. His face grew hot and his jaw trembled when he and saw that JoJo had his head on the table.
"It's alright," the father said, trying to reasure him. He turned to his daughter who was shivering from the combination of ice cream and whomiliation. "She's just being a little drama queen. Susy, will you puh-lease tell the wonderful, Mayor of Whoville, that you know it was just an accident."
"No! No!" Ned waved his hands around in surrender. "She doesn't have to do that."
Ned rushed back over to his booth, cutting through the hysterical Whos. He found JoJo's arm, gripped it as tight as he could, and yanked him up from the seat. Ned dragged JoJo with him to the emergency exit door. JoJo tried to protest, but Ned wouldn't stop to listen.
He didn't care that they were all still laughing at him. He didn't care that Sandra the cashier wished him a good evening underneath all the laughter. He didn't care that he'd just set off the alarm, going through the emergency exit.
He just had to get JoJo out of there and save him from the embarassment he had caused once again.
Author's Note: Hey, how am I doing? What do you like or dislike about the story? Please let me know in the reviews. And stay tuned for Chapter 10! Things are going to get painful...