*FRIENDSHIP AND FROZEN ICE*
Izzian's first day with Eliza had been one worth remembering. He had to admit, the earth girl was a most entertaining host, scaring him in a dark forest, introducing him to Paksha and leading him through the twisted paths to destinations unknown. It had been a remarkable day, even though Eliza had remained stubbornly quiet on the subject of Paksha making such a quick exit.
A few days later, Eliza had come to his house unexpectedly. She poked around in a suspicious manner, but Izzian didn't think she found anything too unusual. Enot had been working and Gala wasn't home, so things seemed fairly normal at the time.
Eliza grabbed some cash off the boy's dresser and signaled Izzian to follow. The duo ended up on First and Main Street, standing in the shade of a large tree.
Next to the tree stood a small shack and an old wooden sign with colorful letters reading, Laddie's SnowCone Haven
"What flavor?" asked Eliza as she pulled Izzian to the front window of the shack.
"What flavor of what?" he responded.
"What flavor of shampoo, you idiot. Snow cone. What flavor of snow cone do you want?" she barked.
Eliza's tongue could cut when she grew impatient, but Izzian accepted her insult with a sense of camaraderie. Friends always called each other Glotfish on Klesia. He assumed the term idiot was a cousin to Glotfish.
Izzian scanned the menu. "Strawberry, please," he said.
Eliza rolled her eyes. "Strawberry? I suppose you like plain old vanilla ice cream too." She approached the counter, and said, "Leave it up me, kid."
"Hello, Laddie. Meet Izzian. I call him Izzy for short and his last name is rather unpronounceable. Izzy, meet Laddie, the fine owner and efficient head waiter here at SnowCone Haven."
Izzian stuck his head through the tiny opening of Laddie's SnowCone Haven and felt the cool air-conditioned air assault his face. At first, he overlooked the diminutive man standing in a dark corner, pouring some mysterious colorful concoctions onto a cupful of shaved ice.
As Laddie turned his head towards his two customers, Izzian could have sworn that Laddie's eyes flashed. The old man's head seemed to turn too far over his shoulders. But before he was able to further assess the man's flexibility, Laddie had sped over to the counter and extended a hand in greeting. To Izzian, the man moved awfully quickly for a man of his age. The man's true age was unclear, though.
At first, Laddie had looked like a grandpa and the next minute, he was zooming around SnowCone Haven like an Olympic sprinter. The man had a crinkling face full of wrinkles hard won, but the twinkle in his eyes remained twinkling.
"Hello, Izzy with the unpronounceable last name. Is nice to meet you. Now, are you two goink to order, or stand here all day soaking up all my air-conditioning? This day is goink to be a scorcher. Is hot summer. Better get ready," said Laddie with an accent that Izzian could not quite place. It sounded Russian, but with something else mixed in; something…odd.
"I like it cold in here," declared Laddie.
He reached over and turned down his air conditioner to an even colder temperature. Icicles had formed on the inside of Laddie's shack and even though it was hot outside, Izzian could see his breath when he poked his head into the tiny window.
Upon further inspection, Izzian noted that some of the icicles were multicolored, like daggers of frozen syrup haphazardly flung into the air as snow cones were quickly prepared. The gem-like icicles sparkled in the light, and cast warped shadows all around the interior of the shack. The glistening ice along with the mysterious twinkle-eyed man gave Laddie's SnowCone Haven an ambiance of magic and mystique.
Oddly, the shack's outward façade was constructed simply of wooden planks hammered together and Izzian wondered how the old man was able to keep the temperature so cold. He dare not ask his plascreen, though, for fear of being insulted for his obvious ignorance.
"What else are they telling you, Laddie?" Eliza asked. She then pointed at Izzian and quietly added, "He's okay."
Laddie had an important secret, in Eliza's opinion, and she wouldn't announce it to just anybody on the street. He was also the only person Eliza had trusted with her own secret. Laddie had helped her better understand her telepathic abilities.
Laddie took a long look at Izzian, sizing the boy up. Izzian thought that the old man's eyes had flashed yellow, quick as a blink, but couldn't be sure. He held Laddie's current aqua-colored gaze for as long as he could before breaking away, feeling uncomfortable.
"Laddie speaks to spirits, Izzy. Don't tell anyone, of course. He always knows things that other people don't. This is a small town and the gossip could ruin him," Eliza said insistently.
Laddie giggled and rolled his eyes. "Eliza, you exaggerate better than I make snow cone. The only thing that could ruin the SnowCone Haven is long cold freezing winter. If only…Is okay to dream though," the old man said wistfully. "Other than that, I'll always make money on snow cones, especially during the coming summer."
Izzian noticed the man's accent faded in and out as if some sentences deserved a Russian-sounding accent and others didn't. He wondered where the snow cone slinger had developed such an odd sounding twang.
"Now, order or go play. I haven't time to stand here all day trading gossip and talking about the weather," Laddie said, sounding less like a wizened Russian mage and more like a grumpy old man by the second.
"He must not be getting anything important from the spirits, you see," said Eliza to Izzian, explaining away the old man's rudeness.
"Nah, spirits tell me plenty. Like right now," Laddie said. He rolled his eyes and waved his hands. His voice wavered in pretend concentration. "The spirits tell me… this young man wants a Donkey's Blood Orange Delight and this young woman wants a….Blue Fish-Eye Special."
Laddie quickly recovered from his make-believe ghost chat and with a straight face said, "That's five dollars. Fifty cents more if you want extra Sour-Yet-Sweet-Gummy-Worm-Treats."
Eliza paid the peculiar snow cone vendor with Izzian's money, and directed him towards a picnic table.
The snow cone newbie worried about the taste of donkey mixed with blood and oranges. Izzian was just about to complain and ask for strawberry instead, when Laddie appeared next to the table, carrying two very large cups filled with shaved ice and colorful syrup. The old man had added an extra handful of Sour-Yet-Sweet-Gummy-Worm-Treats, even though the kids had only given him a fiver.
Eliza grabbed her snow cone and began slurping it greedily. To Izzian it looked as if more snow cone landed on her hands and face than in her mouth.
"Go on, eat," said the girl with Blue Fish-Eye Special dribbling down her chin. "Don't they have snow cones in Vegas?"
Izzian sniffed the colorful cone of ice and took a timid lick. He then took another lick and realized the icy confection tasted quite good.
"Doesn't taste like a bleeding donkey at all," he said relieved, as he gulped a large portion of ice down in one bite.
Eliza eyed him wearily and said, "How do you know what a bleeding donkey tastes like? Never mind. For some reason I think you know more than you let on."
He took a break from chomping the sweet treat and posed a question to his new friend. "The other day in the forest when Paksha scared us to death, what was in that black notebook you couldn't leave behind?"
"That's just my journal. You know, for notes and stuff," she answered. She couldn't tell Izzian the true contents of her journal.
"Can I take a look at it?" he asked, timidly, for fear she might hit him. The girl seemed rather strong and heavy handed with thumps as well.
"Sure, you can look, Klowosky. Just don't open the thing."
Eliza ceremoniously pulled out the smooth, black notebook with gold letters spelling out: Eliza Allready and her Plans for World Domination. She handed it to Izzian.
"Wow, that's heavy stuff. Maybe sometime I can actually look inside," said Izzian.
Eliza gave a doubtful sounding harrumph. She snatched her notebook aw
ay, leaving behind the sticky residue of Blue Fish-eye special snow cone smeared all over Izzian's hands.
The notebook slipped from her hands and the pages fluttered open. Izzian was able to see writings on a page that looked oddly familiar. His eyes grew wide. The words on the page were alienspeak. Eliza Allready had written in alien and Izzian had seen it. His heart palpitated and his confusion mounted.
Eliza hadn't noticed. She said, "The title is actually a ruse, idiot. I have no plans for dominating the entire world. Haven't you ever written in a journal? I've had the strangest sensation that someone has been watching me, so I write about it. Plus, I write to talk myself out of being morose. Sometimes it really sucks to be Eliza Allready."
Sometimes it really sucks to be Izzian Klowosky too, he thought. It especially sucked that Izzian couldn't tell the girl he had been the watcher in the sky. He couldn't tell the girl that he understood those strange writings on the pages of her journal. There was no way he could tell the girl that he was far from human. He had no way to ease her worrisome mind and it made him sad.
Suddenly, he hated himself for being such an accomplished liar, by omission, and he hated the elders on Klesia for inventing such a dishonest thing as the Goodwill Project. How could anyone become a Compassionate Citizen of the Universe by telling a thousand lies? Izzian realized, not for the first time, that the elders of Klesia were ignorant hypocrites.
The two sat on the picnic table under the shady tree, sharing snow cones and conversation for the rest of the morning. For a few hours, Izzian had forgotten all about the troubles on Klesia Moon Prime.
There would always be a part of him that felt bad for hiding his true nature, but he had to keep his alien identity a secret. He had to stick to the rules of his homework assignment, even though he hated every second of it.
That day, he had learned something, though. Reddle F. Girth could keep her precious wings. Izzian had decided that he'd rather sit in the shade and eat a snow cone with Eliza than hang out with all the winged Grotanoans of Grotanoa.
***