Sunday, September 18, 2011

Little Marky Deering and the Ice Cream Escapade

I wrote this as a way to tweak the nose of one of my friends who I work with. He is a really nice guy in actuality and a great sport, which is fortunate for me because he is twice my size and could probably break me.

It was my intention to write a series of these stories about my co-workers, because hey, I was working the overnight shift at a residential treatment center for troubled youth and I usually had most nights alone with my thoughts as my kids slept through the night. I never did finish, but I thought I would trot this out, just for fun. It's the weekend and I'm feeling nostalgic...

Little Marky Deering
and the
Ice Cream Escapade

Ah, it is such a lovely day! Birds singing, gentle breezes blowing, and the easy pleasure of being in the company of all of you, my dear Readers. My dear friends! Indeed, I can think of nothing better than to take your hands in my own and lead you about my fair city of Lake Shore, Me.- population one hundred percent smiles and delight. The sights, the sounds, the people- each a singular pleasure.

So, come along Reading Gallery, because I believe you are in for a treat. Follow me now, your poor Omniscient Narrator, for our first denizen of Lake Shore approaches, a worthy lad you will soon see. You observe the one I mean? Yes. Down there, just turning the corner of Lake and Main, the tall lad. We will wait for him. It won’t be but a moment.

See? A moment, indeed. Here he is now, Little Marky Deering, shambling a bit in the way that he does. You note how large he is, I see. He is a large boy for his age and some people- rather cruel individuals, indeed- have compared him with a bear who lacks in wits. It is true the boy has an unfortunate amount of thick black hair that seems to grow everywhere- arms, legs back and even on his face, though he isn’t all that old. And yes, admittedly, he tends to respond slowly to any type of mental challenge, but certainly, to compare him with a feeble-brained bear, that isn’t entirely justified.

But let us not dwell upon his shortcomings or get too involved in descriptive particulars, especially not today, on your very first visit to Lake Shore. Instead, watch with me as Little Marky shambles nearer. Notice the innocent grin and the way his eyes sparkle as they happen upon the store sign just to his left. See him stop? He leans forward now to read what wonders the store has to offer. Perhaps we could lean closer as well to read for ourselves what has so captivated Little Marky on his downtown trek.


Perhaps the delicious part makes poor Little Marky Deering squint so terribly. Step closer with me. His lips move…

“De… de… de-lick-I-oh-us… del-ick-I-oh-us?”

Oh, don’t be too harsh on him, will you? It is a difficult word, after all, and he is making such an effort. We can forgive him this small struggle. Ah, no matter. He is on the move. The picture that accompanies the words seems to have overcome his difficulties, or perhaps it is the inviting counter laden with treats beyond the window that has drawn Little Marky through the front door. No matter, no matter. Let’s hurry along inside, as well. No good standing out here on the sidewalk when Mrs. O’Fahey’s Ice Cream and Other Edibles presents such an inviting respite from the sun. And an ice cream sounds nice anyway, so why delay further?

There he is, Little Marky, standing in front of the counter. Could anyone possibly look happier than he does at this moment? So many choices, though- this might take Little Marky awhile. Maybe we can catch the attention of Mrs. O’Fahey while Little Marky makes his selection. We can have a bit of ice cream ourselves while we wait.

Yes, Mrs. O’Fahey was perhaps a bit snappish and a touch rude, but a plain vanilla cone does suit me quite well, thank you. Mrs. O’Fahey is a nice woman- indeed, despite rough edges- but sometimes her comments can be... overly harsh and without tact. Oh, my voice? Don’t worry, she can’t hear us if we keep our voices low. Her hearing is touchy at best. Some say that her hearing is actually fine, that she simply does not like to listen to other people. It gives her more opportunity to criticize if she isn’t worried about listening- no interruptions, you see? I would never say such a thing. I believe she is a nice woman. Just remember to nod in the correct places and you’ll get along famously with Mrs. O’Fahey.

Good, Little Marky has made his choice. Yes, I know, it is quite unfortunate. It hardly seems safe for him to get three scoops. Perhaps Mrs. O’Fahey will show him reason in this matter. Let’s listen, now, alright? Three scoops! Dangerously high as all can obviously see for someone like Little Marky. It can only end badly. Oh, of course- we are supposed to be listening. I’m sorry…

“Mama says I’m just big boned.”

“I guess maybe you should let out a notch on your belt, then, because your belly sure does have some big bones inside. Looks to be about the size of a small cow, in fact.”

Oh… well, like I said, Readers, Mrs. O’Fahey can be overly harsh, sometimes. All is well, though, in Little Marky’s world. As you see, his eyes are filled with the triple scoop and all he does is nod in agreement. At least his eyes are bright, my friends.

No, of course not. I did not intend to impugn his intelligence. Well, perhaps. It might have seemed as if had. If so, I apologize, but let us go on and see how Little Marky fares. He is already outside. We will wave to Mrs. O’Fahey… ah, yes, well… no it is not customary to use one finger when waving here in Lake Shore. Perhaps her hearing… no matter, no matter.

Now, where did the lad get off to? Where? It looks like he’s headed for the park. Now, isn’t that a piece of sweet Americana- a boy eating ice cream in the park. We will have to stretch our legs a bit to catch up, dear Readers.

The band stand. A perfect choice, overlooking the fair blue waters of our Lake Shore. We can rest ourselves on this bench while Little Marky attends to his prodigious lactose endeavor. We can watch both him and catch the breeze from the lake that plays so gently with the sails on the boats out on the lovely Lake Shore. You see, it truly is a wonderful day in a truly wonderful city. With wonderful people, as well, like Little Marky Deering over there-

“Little Marky Deering,
we caught you peering-
up your momma’s dress-
oh what a mess!”
Well, yes, every city must have… a bad element. Those hooligans singing that crude song- just terrible. Monstrous bullies they are. Bad elements, as I said.

“Hey Little Marky Deering, what color underwear was your mother wearin’ today?” That one, she’s the worst of the lot. Name of Minnie Mora, though everyone just calls here Meanie Mora. A true ruffian.

“Careful Meanie or he might be needin’ to go home and change hiz own underwear. Get him all excited like you doin’.” And that one, she’s nearly as bad. They call her Hurricane, on account of her mouth, which never stops moving.

“You gettin’ excited Little Marky?” Ah, disgusting! That Meanie should not be allowed to say such things. Making poor Little Marky cry- monstrous, monstrous, indeed!

“Little Marky cry.” The third of the Three Terrors, the one that speaks so softly? Normally HellsBells –not her real name but aptly suited to the girl you might agree!- just hits instead of talking. With Hurricane around- well, no one usually has much opportunity to talk-

My dear! There it goes! Triple scoop- indeed, a dangerous thing for the poor boy.

“Hey Meanie, Little Marky dropped his ice cream! How sad.”

“Good thing for him he dropped it on his own. I didn’t want to kick his big butt-“

“Kick his butt, kick his butt! Yeah Meanie kick it, kick the blubber, whale-blubber, big ol’ fat butt, kick, kick, kick, yeah, yeah-!”

“Yeah, yeah, Hurricane. I-“

“-kick, kick, kick, kick, kick, kick, yeah, yeah, kick, yeah, whale-blubber, yeah, yeah-“


“Yeah, Hurricane, like HellsBells said, breathe.”

“-kick blubber, bounce, bounce, kick, kick-“
“My momma-“

“-has a fat ass. Shut up blubber-brains!”

Oh dear, how terrible. Perhaps it would be best if we intervene. Yes, perhaps that would be best. What do you say? Why aren’t I moving? Yes, Little Marky is indeed twice as large as those three girls- Scared? That is only prudent. Those three are monstrous, I tell you. Very prudent to keep our distance. No telling what they might do. They are capable-

They are moving away. Thank goodness! But poor Little Marky. His triple scoop is lying on the ground on top of, oh my, it is, dog droppings. A bad end, indeed. Two scoops he might have managed, but three? No, that was asking too much. And now it is ruined and…

Well… um… maybe the lad… yes, dog feces… and… oh…

Yes perhaps we should turn away, now. No, I am quite sorry. I had no idea he would pick it up, but then it was a triple scoop and he did wipe-

Ants? No I did not see that there were ants, as well. That is disturbing, I agree, but my assertions about the boy still stand. He is-


What? Yes, he does run well for such a large boy. Why- an ant bit him on the lip? Dreadful!

Please, don’t go! I’m certain the remainder of the day can be salvaged. It is such a lovely day, after all and- what? Where? The three terrors are coming this way? Well, yes, perhaps it would be best, dear Readers, not to be caught for sport by those three- Reading Gallery? Wait, wait. Don’t leave me here alone…


Anonymous said...


MT Nickerson said...

Thank you, Anonymous. It has been a long time since I wrote that. It is fun to revisit sometimes, just fro perspective if nothing else.