The summer of 2003
Chapter 1: The summer of 2003
What should have been a normal, lazy summer day turned out to be the day my life changed forever...
It was just me and my pals, Boyd and Kyle, sitting at the boardwalk with the summer wind blowing from the sea, as we debated a topic of major importance.
“I say we get some fudgesicles,” Boyd said. He was a fat kid with brown hair, freckles, and he always wore striped shirts, sandals, and socks that reached to his knees during the summer. “Get our chocolate on, ya know?”
“Nah,” said Kyle. He was a tall, lanky guy with greasy hair and glasses, who always wore suspenders for his pants regardless of season. “Let’s get blue tornado bars.”
“But dude, those cost, like, three bucks a pop,” Boyd argued as he turned to Kyle, who was sitting to my left. Boyd sat to my right. “And they’re too lemony!”
“Dude, lemony’s the taste of summer,” Kyle argued. “Tell’im, Chuck!”
I pondered which side to take; they both had good points. The chocolatey goodness of fudgesicles, or the lemony sweetness of blue tornado bars? Decisions, decisions...
“Guys, I think we should get,” I began, pondering my words carefully. Then, I made my decision. “Ice cream cones.”
Boyd and Kyle looked at each other, then they both looked at me.
“What flavor, though?” Asked Boyd as he untucked his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, showing off his big belly. “Cuz the ice cream stand’s got, like, ten flavors.”
“It’s nine now,” said Kyle as he adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Lawrence took out grape sherbet the other day.”
“Ew, that one was nasty,” Boyd said, grimacing as he tucked his shirt back into his shorts. “I ate a cone of that once, and it tasted like unsweetened grape juice!”
“Yeah, no one liked that one,” I said, chuckling. “So, let’s decide on the flavor we want. Boyd, you getting chocolate, right?”
“Damn straight,” said Boyd as he got up from the bench. “What ’bout you, Kyle? Whatcha getting?”
“I’m getting watermelon,” said Kyle as he got up, adjusting his pants.
“Vanilla for me,” I said as I got up from the bench.
“Dude, that’s so lame!” Boyd argued as he smacked me upside the head. “Vanilla ice cream, seriously? What’s next, you’re gonna eat plain old Cheerios or Corn Flakes for breakfast?”
“Screw you, fatty,” I retorted. I mean, yeah I do eat Corn Flakes for breakfast, because that’s the cheapest cereal available. It’s either that or nothing.
“You wanna go!?” Boyd angrily asked, taking his shirt off. “Let’s go, Chuck! I’ll take you on!”
“Bring it!” I said as I put up my fists, ready to beat the tar out of the tubby!
“Cut it out, you two,” Kyle said as he got between us, exasperatedly. “And Boyd, put your shirt on; you’ll catch a bad sunburn again.”
“Ah, you ain’t worth it anyway,” Boyd said as he put his shirt back on. “Let’s get some ice cream, guys, come on.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Kyle said as he shook his head, before turning to me. “Gee, Chuck, don’t be so quick to pick fights.”
“He started it,” I protested.
“Yeah, but you could always just ignore his baloney,” Kyle replied, giving me that serious look of his. I just sighed, and we went on our way.
The ice cream stand was located right where the boardwalk began, in that sweet spot between the parking lot and the entry to the boardwalk. The owner, one Jack Lawrence, has been around here since our parents were kids. We bought our ice cream cones, then decided to just hang around the parking lot, checking out the tourists.
“Ha ha, get a load of that lady,” Boyd whispered to us as he subtly pointed at a woman with a VERY bad sunburn. Like seriously, she was red as a cherry! Kyle and I laughed a little, so as not to get her attention.
“Psst, check that guy out,” Kyle snickered as he subtly motioned for a very, very rotund man wobbling across the beach.
“Oh man, and look at that kid over there,” I whispered as I pointed to some boy playing with a doll on the beach.
“Oh man, that’s an American Girl doll,” Boyd said, snickering. “My sister loves those!”
“That’s for girls,” Kyle whispered, snickering. “Man, what a gay guy!”
“Gay?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“You know,” Kyle said as he made his wrist all limp. “A guy who’s not manly. Fruity even. Thinks he’s a girl. Gay.”
“Dude, come on, you’re already ten years old,” said Boyd as he bit into his ice cream. “How can you not know what gay is?”
“Come on, gimme a break,” I protested as I licked my ice cream. “How am I gonna know what gay is?”
“Let go!” We heard someone scream. We turned around; it was the kid with the doll! Some teens were trying to take his doll away! “It’s mine!”
“Drop the doll, ya fairy!” One of the teens said, snatching the doll and throwing it away. “Seriously, you’re a boy! Boys don’t play with dolls!”
“Kit!” The kid cried out, and something about the way he pathetically reached for the doll as the other teen held him back made my blood boil.
“Don’t get involved,” Kyle told me, all seriously like. “They’re out-of-towners, Chuck, and they’re bigger than you.”
“Screw that!” I yelled, throwing my ice cream aside as I rushed towards the teens. “Leave him alone, you jerks!”
“Buzz off, kid,” one of the teens began to say, waving at me dismissively. “This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”
“Give him the doll back!” I demanded as I cracked my knuckles.
“Or what?” The bigger teen asked, grinning.
“Hey!” Mr. Lawrence called out as he left his stand. “What’s going on over there!?”
“Nothing,” the bigger teen said, backing off. “We were just leaving.”
The two teens left; once they did, I picked up the doll and gave it to the kid.
“Thank you,” he said, wiping his tears away. Then he showed me his doll. “This is Kit Kittredge; she’s my best friend.”
“OK,” I said, feeling a bit weirded out. “I’m Chuck Blaine, by the way, you?”
“I’m Charlie Smith,” he replied, and we shook hands. He was a weird looking guy with blonde hair, blue eyes, very white skin that looked like it’d burn easily in the sun; total weirdo.
“Dude,” Boyd called out as he handed me a new vanilla ice cream cone. “You dropped yours, so I got ya a new one.”
“Thanks, dude,” I said, taking the cone, and then I turned to Charlie. “Charlie, right? Want to eat ice cream with us?”
“OK!” He enthusiastically replied. And that’s how we started off...
