Small as an Elephant - Jennifer Richard Jacobson [16]
But Nina had said, “Why did she just leave the money on your bed? Why didn’t she give it to you herself? Why does she have to stay away from the apartment so much?” And because she didn’t understand, Jack didn’t tell her any more.
As Jack walked up and down Main Street in Bar Harbor, he read the signs: THE ACADIA SHOP, COOL AS A MOOSE, BEN AND BILL’S CHOCOLATE EMPORIUM. Outside Ben and Bill’s was a tall wooden lobster holding a triple-decker ice-cream cone in its claw. Two little kids were sitting in its lap. He knew his mother would love this place.
It was still fairly early in the morning, but already the shop was busy. Although there were chocolates of every kind, and although cotton candy hung from the chocolate racks, it was the ice cream that was in demand. It seemed that most of the customers in line were interested in trying the lobster ice cream, and the guy behind the counter was happy to give them a taste on tiny spoons. Jack hadn’t noticed his hunger before he walked into the shop, but now that he smelled the chocolate and saw all the ice cream and gelato flavors, he felt ravenous. How many tastes could he have? And what would happen if he tasted the ice cream but didn’t order anything?
If he could sample only one flavor, he didn’t want to waste it on something like lobster ice cream — what if he didn’t like it? Would the guy think it was strange if he tasted something he knew he’d love? Could he taste Chocolate Peanut-Butter Cookie Dough?
He bravely asked. Sure enough, the guy scooped it out without hesitation.
Jack held the wooden spoon in his mouth and simply let the ice cream melt off, trying to savor every sweet drop. He pressed the bit of cookie dough to the roof of his mouth and slowly chewed on a chocolate chip. Surely this way he’d feel like he’d eaten a whole cup.
But the little sample disappeared in seconds.
Did he dare ask for another?
“Could I taste Chewy Gooey?”
Again, he got a taste. Wow.
“May I help you?” the scooper asked a woman standing next to him.
“Oh,” said the woman. “This young man was here before me. Go ahead and take his order first.”
The scooper looked at Jack. “What’ll it be?”
Jack hadn’t chosen another flavor to sample, and he was clearly expected to get on with ordering an ice-cream cone. What should he do?
He looked from the woman to the guy. “It’s OK,” he said. “I haven’t made up my mind.”
The woman ordered butter-pecan ice cream. Jack flew out the door without even asking the guy if he’d seen his mother. But Bar Harbor was so crowded, so busy, that even if the guy had seen her, would he have remembered?
Only if she’s flying high, he thought, then quickly pushed the thought away.
Jack walked up and down the sidewalk, dipping into stores, for much of the morning. In every shop he entered, he saw something that would have caught his mother’s interest: lobster salt-and-pepper shakers, a snow globe with a giant seagull looming over a sailboat, moose pajama pants. There were so many people (every now and then someone with blond hair would momentarily make his heart beat faster), and so many treasures his mom would love, he felt she had to be close by. So convinced was he that he visited several stores two or three times.
He had just decided to try looking at the village green, when he passed a bald guy who was wearing a Geddy’s T-shirt. His mom had that shirt! She had worn it so many times you could hardly read the name. He’d never asked her what it meant, but now it felt like this guy was walking around with a piece of his mother, a piece of code.
“Hey!” Jack yelled at the guy’s back. To his surprise, the man turned around. “What’s Geddy’s?”
“A bar — and a restaurant,” the man answered. “It’s right down there,” he said, pointing toward the water.
Had his mom mentioned it when they put Bar Harbor on