Moving to the counter to order, Thessaly glances at Levi’s profile – watching as he tightens his lips and rubs his chin. “Sure,” she replies.
Ringing a bell, the young man in the shaved ice truck asks, “What’ll you have?”
Levi places his arm on the counter of the truck and replies, “You have quite the creative menu. Although, the oatmeal chai surprise sounds a little scary.” Tapping the stainless steel counter, Levi demands, “Here’s what we want – orange, strawberry, lemon, peach, pineapple, and cherry.”
“So you want all the flavors? That’s our clusterfuck.”
“Right, but what if we don’t want the blue raspberry?” Levi leans into Thessaly and whispers, “If the shaved ice ends up being the color of your dress, then you have to kiss me.”
Laughing, Thessaly agrees. “Can we add cream? And gummi worms?”
“Now you’re livin’, Tess.” Slapping the counter to the beat of the churning ice machine, Levi beckons, “Dude, add some cream. And gummi worms. And two umbrella straws.”
The young man in the food truck shakes his head and rolls his eyes, clearly at his daily limit with the random demands of the Seaport yuccies (young urban creatives.) Before buying a used food truck, Kirk Diamond was a bartender. Not a very good one – often dropping bottles of top shelf tequila while performing the iconic scene from Cocktail. When he stumbled upon a funky truck at a decent price, he cashed in his savings and set up seasonal rotations in the Seaport. Summer is Kirk’s biggest season, followed by the hard cider frozen treats during the fall.
As Kirk packs the massive mound of delicate ice into a Chinese food container, people in line start to clap – prompting him to do a few tricks. He drizzles every hue of red, orange, and yellow syrup over the ice while busting a few dance moves from the nineties. The addition of the cream comes last – the grand finale. Kirk cups his hand to his ear, begging for more applause. Once he’s satisfied with the gratitude, he flips the plastic bottle of cream syrup in the air, spins around in a full rotation, and then catches the bottle behind his back.
The line forming at the truck goes wild and demands more. Kirk simply smiles and places a huge tip jar on the counter. Returning to the icy clusterfuck, Kirk adds the final garnishes – a wedge of pineapple, two gummi worms, two umbrellas, one straw, and one spoon. “Ten bucks,” Kirk announces.
With a cocky smile and the expression of a victor, Levi takes the carton and passes it to Thessaly. He gives Kirk a ten, and then drops a five in the jar of singles. “Thanks, man.”
As Levi and Thessaly walk off in the other direction, Levi grabs her waist and spins her in front of him. “Lemme see,” he demands.
“See what?” she asks.
Using the plastic spoon, Thessaly scoops the delicate yellow-orange ice into a small bite. She slowly brings the spoon toward Levi, watching as he licks his lips and opens his mouth. Levi leans forward and eats from the spoon, allowing the ice to melt on his tongue while the drops of orange sugar dissolve inside his mouth. “I’d say the color is your perfect match,” Levi whispers.
“Oh really?” Thessaly teases, parting her lips for a kiss.
Raising his eyebrows, Levi leans in and kisses Thessaly’s cheek. He takes the carton of ice and moves ahead of Thessaly, dangling a gummi worm above his mouth before ripping it from his fingers.
Trailing behind him with an annoyed grin, Thessaly shouts, “Hey, Jones, I don’t normally like to follow!”
Slowing his pace with his elbows out and his chest puffed, Levi smirks. “Oh?” He stops abruptly and pulls Thessaly close to him, one hand on her waist and the other hand holding the carton of shaved ice above her head.
She smiles and asks, “Can I have some?”
Nodding his head, Levi lowers the carton to feed Thessaly the wedge of fresh pineapple. He places the yellow tip between her parted lips, quietly groaning as her red mouth pinches the fruity flesh. Staring into each other’s eyes while crowds of people move around them, they smile – a secret smile dedicated to the sensual foreplay of sweet, juicy fruit.
As they continue their stroll along Front Street, the conversation spans from a television series on Netflix, to the recipe of IKEA’s Swedish meatballs. There’s no stammering or awkward silence – the dialogue seems to flow as if it were written just for them. Thunder rumbles over the river, and the humidity spikes uncomfortably, but the two are so engaged in each other that they fail to realize the scene is changing. Because Thessaly and Levi are simply characters within the bigger story – passing figures on crowded streets, assimilated residents of a vibrant city, and specks of color on a gray canvas.
Squeezing through a crowd of young New Yorkers, Levi takes Thessaly’s hand and leads her to a row of registration tents. Once a month during the summer, the Seaport sets up an outdoor game night – complete with Pictionary, shuffleboard, Jeopardy! and a free movie. Tonight’s viewing features the witty dynamic duo of Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson in White Men Can’t Jump, but the organic popcorn and hand-crafted root beer cost ten dollars.
Levi picks the middle tent without a line. “We’d like to play shuffleboard,” he declares, adding his name and cell phone number to a clipboard.
“There’s a thirty-minute wait for a court.” Standing behind one of three podiums designed like the set of Jeopardy! is a young woman wearing rhinestone glasses and a ‘50s diner uniform. She takes the clipboard from Levi and says, “You can walk around or sit in the outdoor waiting room over there. You’ll get a text when the court is available.”
Levi tosses the shaved ice carton in the garbage and leads Thessaly to the outdoor living room. They grab an empty plastic loveseat facing one of the Seaport’s original boat slips. Thessaly removes her shoes and as gracefully as possible, sits on her leg. Tugging at the hem of her knee-length dress, she catches Levi staring at her legs.
“Hey!” Thessaly teases.
“When we met, you were wearing pants – let me enjoy your long legs.”
“I’m sure it’s obvious I don’t wear dresses much,” she reveals.
Resting his tan arm on the back of the love seat, Levi leans in to whisper, “I don’t either.” He smiles, dropping his hand on her shoulder. “Although, Dani used to dress me up and call me Laverne.”
Confused by his ambiguous admission, Thessaly squints her eyes and purses her lips. “Danny?” she asks.
“Yeah, my older sister.” Levi matches Thessaly’s quizzical expression and then laughs. “Dandelion Jones?”
“Oh, wow, you were serious?”
“Yep,” he replies. “Long or short story?”
“The entertaining one.”
“Our mom was Amish – like rode in a horse and buggy and churned butter under the candlelight. When she was a teenager, she would sneak off with her friends through the Pennsylvania wheat fields to party with modern civilization.”
“Like Leanne in season three of Orange is the New Black!”
“Is she the drug-dealing lesbian?”
“No, the meth addict that works in the laundry room,” Thessaly replies flatly. “Sorry for the tangent – finish the story.”
“Fine,” Levi agrees with a sigh. “When she was sixteen, a group of Amish friends accidentally left her behind at a dive bar. That was also the night she met my dad, a drummer for an eighties psychedelic rock band. After crashing with my dad in a trailer for a month, she returned to her parent’s farm, pregnant and scared, and needing their help. A meeting was called with the elders, and without much consideration for the health of my mom, she was shunned. My grandparents gave her a few hundred bucks, a Bible, and then sent on her way.”
“Amazing. I never realized the culture was so hard on teens.”
“Right? Well, my dad was only eighteen at the time and completely broke, so he quit the band and got a crappy job in a small town outside of Lancaster. They rented a one-bedroom cottage on the property of a hundred acre farm.”