Twenty
____________
I Scream for Ice Cream
Amir glanced over to the three
and replied loudly, “What’s up everyone. Who’s the girl? Did one of you get a
girlfriend? That ain’t possible,”
he laughed.
“What would you know, you old
camel jockey,” Nash replied.
“Hey,” Amir smiled, “that ain’t
nice.”
Amir was a thin youth with
straight, shortly cropped black hair, dark inviting eyes and a warm friendly
smile.
El Pino introduced Jenny to Amir
and explained about her joining their happy household.
Standing, Amir replied, “Happy
it is, I guess. No matter how nice a place is there is never anywhere as
comfortable for the mind as home. But some of us will never see our
homeland again, I’m afraid.”
Jenny didn’t know how to
respond, so she simply replied, “Nice to meet ya, Amir.”
“You better save that opinion
till later,” he laughed.
“Got that right,” El Pino
confirmed.
“Hey, Jenny,” Amir addressed the
young woman, “the folks here told you there used to be six of us? Anyway… now
they keep it down to only four, so it’s just us, baby.”
Jenny was not sure what the
‘baby’ reference was all about, though she had heard that said to her many time
in her horrid past, she ignored it and replied, “Yeah, I heard.”
Amir clarified some details for
the newly arrived resident, “Three of the former clients here used to get the
counselors to buy them bus passes then travel to other cities and rob
stores, bus and taxi drivers, and who knows what else. They all got busted
about two months ago and sent off to face new trials and all.”
“Lucky for me,” Jenny
sarcastically replied.
“Hey, c’mon,” Nash responded to
Jenny’s attitude, “it ain’t so bad here. We got folks that really care about us
and all. This place ain’t like all those other youth homes, no way. We’re
important.”
“None of us will be remembered
or cared about eons from now,” Jenny observed.
El Pino jumped in, “But for this
moment we are.”
“I guess you’re right,” Jenny
said. "Sorry, I just ain’t had it so good in life so far. It’s hard for me
to be objective. I am a bit better now, though.”
“How’s that?” questioned Amir.
“I went to some Cyrene Youth
Ministry meetings while I was locked up in Y-MAX. They were sort of a prison
outreach program.”
“Ministry? You went to some kind
of religious meetings?” Amir asked.
“It was either that or movies.
And just how many times can you watch a bunch of happy teens dancing around
singing mindless songs about how happy-slap-happy they are? Those movies
made me want to puke.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. Life ain’t
like that at all, at least mine ain’t been,” confirmed Amir.
The other two boys agreed.
“The speaker-preacher people got
me thinkin’ a lot,” Jenny stated.
“About what?” Nash inquired.
“God, Jesus, love, life… you
know… lots of stuff.”
“Children!” shouted Mangas
Coloradas from the back porch, “Come in please.”
“Children?” Jenny questioned
angrily.
“He’s just kiddin’. He’s a lot
of fun and good to talk with about stuff. C’mon, let’s go,” El Pino commanded.
Mangas Coloradas remained one of
the favorite staff members among the youth residing within FHG. He was a tall,
picturesque man with distinctive Native American features, including his
long black hair which hung free and straight on occasion; quite a striking
appearance when he wore his grey suit. But, for most of his working hours
Mr. Coloradas wore his hair in a ponytail for the sake of convenience.
The four youths entered the
house to see the dining table decked out with home-made vanilla ice cream,
bowls, cones, chocolate and strawberry syrup and an assortment of other
toppings, including fresh fruit.
“Dig in everyone!” announced
Miss Lafferty.
Continuing with her previous
teen vs. adult attitude, Jenny turned and stared silently out of the dining
room window.
Amir noticed a new man standing
in the corner of the room and asked, “What’s the occasion?”
Mangas Coloradas replied, “To
celebrate Jenny’s arrival and the arrival of our new staff member.” He
introduced the youths to Blaž Krajišnik, an immigrant from the country of
Bosnia.
Jenny refused to acknowledge
anything until Nash whispered his question to her, “What’s goin’ on? Why you
actin’ this way?”
“Leave me alone,” was all the
reply he received.
“Suit yourself.”
Jenny reflected, I don’t know why I can’t stand
happy events, pondered Jenny in an attempt to analyze her feelings. There’s
just somethin’ repulsive about this kinda stuff.
The counselors were well aware
of the problems teens that had faced lives such as Jenny had. The best remedy
was to simply grant some space to the individual until they had time to
adjust. Growing up in an environment with enjoyable family or friend
gatherings was as foreign as sanity is in an insane asylum to these types
of youths; they automatically developed a resentment and jealousy toward
events where others enjoyed themselves in peaceful happiness, happiness free
from the bonds of the torturous lives these teens experienced every day.
Emotionally troubled problematic teens created an animosity inside their
hearts toward anything wholesome, pure and enjoyable.
“Jenny,” Mangas addressed the
teen, “you going to join us?”
“What’s it to ya?”
The boys looked at each other,
but remembered how they were when they first arrived.
“Chill,” Amir said. “Come and
have some ice cream, sister.”
Jenny had never experienced
being called sister before. She wondered what it would feel like to actually
have a brother or sister to relate to and talk with; someone to unburden
her heart to in confidence. She decided to join the group, hoping her life
would finally change for the better.
Mangas provided the group with a
little background information concerning Blaž Krajišnik, “Mr. Krajišnik….”
Blaž subsequently informed
everyone that they could simply refer to him as Counselor Crash, or just Crash.
It made it simpler for folks that way, “At least until you can say my name
without it distracting you.”
They all laughed and Jenny
relaxed her attitude slightly.
Blaž Krajišnik approached Jenny
welcoming her to the home. She returned the greeting.
“Counselor Crash… what a name,”
Jenny smiled.
Blaž laughed, “At least it’s
something, young lady.”
“How come you speak English so
good?” questioned Jenny.
“Well… it’s well… speak English
so well—”
“Whatever,” Jenny’s attitude
started to shift.
“To answer your very observant
question, Jenny,” Blaž smiled, “My grandfather taught me. He worked for the
Americans during his younger years and knew it was of a necessity for his
children and grandchildren to be fluent in English in order to survive the
world of the future.”
“Smart dude.”
“Yes, he was. Jenny, did you
notice that we all seem to have a common thread between us?”
“Uh, you mean bein’ sort of like
the world’s rejects?”
“You are far more observant and
intelligent than I could have imagined—"
“It comes from survivin’ on the
streets,” Jenny blurted out.
“Amazing,” Blaž remarked, after
taking another huge bite of his ice cream.
“I do have some education,”
Jenny continued. “I know about the Native Americans and their history, Bosnia’s
war and troubled teens and stuff. I ain’t dumb Counselor Crash.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that
at all,” Mr. Krajišnik interjected, “I was just amazed at how mature and
thoughtful you are. You seem to have the ability to analyze things and
draw logical conclusions rapidly.”
“I guess.”
“Well,” Mr. Krajišnik said, “I’m
getting some more of that delicious ice cream, how about you?”
Jenny replied, “Sure, you only live once and
there’s a lot of ways to die. It might as well be while eatin’ ice cream.”
Next Chapter: Cold Treatment
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