Short Story: "Ice" Part One (2007)

In the summer of 2007, I was a response leader for the National Writing Project Summer Institute.  At the time, the NWP was putting a strong emphasis on the participants writing, which gave me a lot of time to formulate this story.  I was inspired by students I saw on the campus of Florida Gulf Coast University (referenced in the story as FGCU), and a writing marathon that we did in Naples.  Here is the story I wrote that summer, in two parts. 

ICE  
an original story by Helen M. Sadler

1. Shelby

            “I can’t believe it.  I finally met someone new.” Paula’s voice came over the phone, excited and almost breathless.  “His name is Drew and I met him last night at Donatello’s Pizza.  He was there with some friends.  I went back to their apartment and watched them play poker.  It was a blast.”

            “What?  You just met him and you went to his apartment with him, and other guys, too?  You crazy, girl?”

            Paula assured, “Oh, Shelby, it wasn’t like that. He’s a real cool guy.  Kept his hands to himself. We’re just getting to know each other. He goes to FGCU, too.  Hey, you gotta know I knew it was safe.  I just hung out and watched them play poker.  They were a lot of fun.  Drew is the one who came up to me and started talking. He’s a really laid back kind of guy and, in fact, I’m meeting him again tonight for dinner.”

            Shelby was quiet for a minute.  A wave of jealousy washed over her.  Lucky girl has a date on Friday night.  But then she remembered –Paula was always like this with a new guy, and it never worked out. Issues.  The girl has issues.  “Well, Paula, it’s your life.”

            “You say that like it’s a crime.  I know you know I’ve made poor choices in the past.  This is different.”

            Shelby bit her lip. She wanted to rattle off the number of times and all the names of the guys she heard in the past were “different” – Reg, Bobby, Thomas, Carl, Simon, Al.  A never ending line of men – most Paula did wrong, some did wrong to Paula.  When you know someone since middle school, you got her history.  Somehow, though, Shelby decided to herself Just let it go.  She knew that as long as she was friends with Paula, the drama would continue.

            Paula, tired of Shelby’s silence, said, “Well, if you have nothing more to say, I’ve gotta go.”

            “Okay, bye.  Have fun tonight.”

            “Oh, I will.  Believe me!”

            Shelby clipped her phone closed and put her i-Pod back on. She laughed to herself when Foreigner’s hit from the ‘80’s Cold as Ice came on.  Only a matter of time, she chuckled to herself.  And I couldn’t have said it any better.

2. Drew

            Drew mentally tried to fight off the boredom of another night with the guys. Same old, same old, he thought.  Supreme pizza, pitcher after pitcher of Bud Lite, then Texas Hold ‘Em until the wee hours. His life had become a repetitive treadmill.  It was their usual routine, nearly every night, after classes and studying had run their course.  “Here’s the pizza, you guys,” the server Patti chimed.  “Anyone for more beer?”

            “Need you ask?” Sam cracked a smile.  “Bring it on, Patti-Baby.”

            Patti trotted away with the empty pitcher.  Drew remained pulled into his shell, dwelling on his own inner thoughts. Every day he seemed less likely to talk, yet every day he’d go out with Sam, Eric, and Josh, his college roommates.  Same old, same old.  They even sat at the same tired booth every time they came to Donatello’s.  Boring.

            Josh slugged Drew in the arm.  “Hey, check out that chick.  Look at her tank top. It says, “MAJOR BABE.”  Betcha can’t start a conversation with her.”

            Drew glared at Josh.  Where did this come from?  The guys usually left him to his own sullen self.  He looked over at the counter and saw the girl, who was waiting to place an order.  She did indeed have MAJOR BABE written on her tank, which was an Army camouflage design.  She wore short khaki-colored shorts, black platform flip-flops, and her hair was cut in a blunt style, just over her shoulders, and streaked light blonde.  He could hear her place her order: a personal veggie pizza and a Diet Coke with a LOT of ice.

            Sam egged Drew on.  “Come on. She won’t be here but five minutes and they’ll give her the pizza and she’ll be gone.  Go talk to her.”

            Drew got defensive.  “Why me?  Why don’t you guys go talk to her?”

            The guys exchanged glances.  Josh explained. “Well, you see, we did a little calculating and we figured you’re the one that needs to get laid the most.  I mean, how long has it been, dude?  You gotta get rockin’ here while you’re still young.”

            Drew could feel the heat rising up to his ears.  He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or angry.  “How the hell do any of you know how long it’s been since I got laid?”  He eyed them carefully, trying to put up a front.  But it was no use. They burst out laughing.

            “We all live in the same place – duh – we know your habits, “ Eric chuckled.

            “Go talk to Major Babe. Ask her about the shirt.”  Sam gave Drew another push, this time right out of the booth.

            “Okay, okay.”  Drew knew he could wait out the girl. She’d be gone soon.  But something inside of him was a bit curious.  Plus he wouldn’t mind getting away from these imbeciles for a few minutes.  They were really getting on his nerves.

            He hitched up his baggy black jeans and began to walk over to the seating area where Major Babe waited for her dinner. He had no idea what he was going to say.

3. Paula

            “I said I wanted a LOT of ice, not NO ice,” Paula told the clerk.  “Please – a LOT of ice.”  She waited at the counter and finally received what she wanted.  “Thanks,” she said as she turned around and crashed into the guy standing behind her.

            “Look out, you’re in my way.”

            The young man was college age, wearing a grass green t-shirt and black baggy jeans.  His hair was close cropped – just short of being shaved bald and he didn’t look to be in the best physical condition.  He wasn’t moving out of her way.

            “My friends and I noticed you and wondered if you’d like to bring your dinner over to our table and join us?”

            “Now why would I want to do that?” she retorted.

            “My name is Drew. Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners.  We’re just some college guys having pizza and thought you’d like to join us.  I mean, if you were going to eat alone, that is. No harm, no foul.”

            Paula considered his sincerity.  It did suck to eat alone.  “Where are your friends?”

            Drew pointed to the table where the guys suddenly tried to pretend they weren’t watching every move.  “They put you up to this, didn’t they?” she asked.  It was more of a statement than a question.

            “Well, in a way.  But I did want to meet you…”

            She looked again at Drew, who really seemed like an okay guy, then at the table of his buddies. How bad could it be?  She decided she was up for a little adventure. “Paula. My name is Paula. And yes, I’ll join you and your buddies.  But just for a bit, to help you out.  Fair enough?”

            “Fair enough.”

4. Drew

            Things had gone well with Paula that Thursday evening. She had stayed for several hours, hanging out while they played poker, watching them, occasionally making jokes.  She was interested enough in Drew to agree to a date the next night.

He met Paula at the Applebees not too far from campus.  They got a booth in the back, where they could be left alone and talk.  He really wanted her undivided attention. It suddenly seemed important.

            “So, what are you in the mood for?  They have pretty good food here.”

            “Well, I usually lean toward salads.” She ordered the chicken Caeser and he ordered a sirloin steak, medium.  She once again ordered her drink with a lot of ice.  “I’m an ice fanatic,” she said, “love to have my drinks REAL cold.”

            Drew felt uncertain about ordering a beer. He didn’t want to offend her, since she didn’t order a drink. She hadn’t drunk any alcohol with them last night. He really wanted a beer, though, to calm his nerves, but now he figured he’d look stupid if he called the waitress back, since he had followed Paula’s lead and just ordered a soft drink. Shoot.  This dating shit was too much to work out.

            “So, I know it sounds corny, but what’s your major?” she asked.

            “Criminal Justice.  How about you?”

            “Double major: Psych and Communications.  Love them both, couldn’t decide.”

            Drew officially felt stupid.  He picked his major because he heard it was easy.  He really didn’t even want to go to college, but it was pretty much required in his family.  He was just trying to get it over with.  Yet, here he sat with a girl that was enthused about her program.  He really couldn’t figure out how he felt about that.  He decided to order a beer.

            They received their food, and he got a tall draft.  “I just really enjoy a good brew with a steak,” he told her as a way of explanation.

            “Oh, you go right ahead.  I just want you to know, though…” she stopped and took a bite of salad,  “that I come from a long line of people who drink too much and it nearly ruined my life, so ya gotta know that about me.  Capiche?”

            Drew officially felt like the biggest ass who ever lived.  “I’m sorry about that, Paula, I really am.  I don’t have to drink.”

            “Well, that’s good. Because most people I know get started and they can’t stop.  It has wreaked havoc in my life and I’m not ready for more of that.  So, are you originally from around here?”

            “My family moved her when I was in sixth grade. We’re from Ashtabula, Ohio.  My mom got a job transfer, and my dad figured what the heck, they were probably going to end up in Florida anyway.  I always thought I’d go right back as soon as I could, maybe attend Ohio State.  But, here I am, still stuck in Florida.”

            Paula smiled and nodded. “I was lucky, I guess.  We moved here to be by my grandmother, but I was only five, so I just consider myself a Floridian. We’re from Indianapolis, which is where I was born.”

They talked through the meal and got to know each other better: more about school, a little about families, some mutually understood jokes about life in Florida, and Ft. Myers in particular, and how it was truly not the best place to be a young, single person.  Just not enough action, unless you count Ft. Myers Beach.  He felt much more comfortable after the beer, but he didn’t order another one. He felt that maybe this was a girl he could really enjoy being with, and he didn’t want to blow it.

            Drew paid the bill, and they walked out of the restaurant.  He wasn’t sure just what to do or say next when Paula turned to him and said, “Hey, let’s go to the new dance club in Bonita.  I think its called Cristina’s.  I’m in the mood to dance – how about you?”

            Drew stared at her.  Here was a Vision, in black sleek pants, a skimpy red satin top, and four inch high-heeled pumps that were painted in an array of watercolors: orange, red, blue, green, and purple.  In the restaurant he hadn’t really noticed what she was wearing, and how great she looked. He had never been with a girl so trendy and sexy, someone he enjoyed talking with, which is why he didn’t date much. Now he realized he was going to have to dance if he wanted to keep this going.  “Yeah, sure.  Let’s go to Cristina’s.”  Drew just didn’t have the nerve to tell her he couldn’t dance for shit.  Or that he had never in his life been to a dance club.

            Paula didn’t pick up the hesitancy in his voice.  “You drive,” she said cheerfully, tossing him her car keys.  “We’ll leave your car here.”

            After months of the same dull and repetitive life, everything now seemed to be happening too fast.  They got into her black Toyota Corolla Sport Coupe and the first thing he noticed was a Christmas ornament – yes, a Christmas ornament hanging from her rearview mirror. It was a long, glass icicle.  He suddenly had this chilled feeling, remembering a movie about a woman with an ice pick. Who was it? Sharon Stone?  Glenn Close?  He always got those movies about psycho bitches mixed up.  He wanted to ask Paula about it, but decided he didn’t want to sound paranoid. She was going to discover what a loser he was once she realized he was a dud on the dance floor. And then his Major Babe would be long gone, and he’d be back at Donatello’s shooting shit with the guys.  Life is just too freakin’ complicated. But he kept that to himself, and drove to Cristina’s, while Paula yakked away in the passenger seat, her words crashing over him like a tsunami.

5. Paula

            “Could you buy me another margarita?” she asked Drew, leaning on him so close that her perfume overwhelmed him. They had been at Cristina’s for an hour and already she was on her third drink.  Drew was carefully nursing a beer, and she knew he was remembering her words when they walked in: “Now, don’t you drink too much. After all, you’re driving.”  Oh, he couldn’t forget that, she knew. She could already feel that she had the upper hand and she planned to milk it for all it was worth.

            He ordered her another margarita, and meanwhile, she split for the bathroom. She was just getting warmed up. It was 90’s night at the club, and she was ready to dance. Paula secretly hoped that Drew would just keep himself at the bar, because if there was one thing she loved it was dancing alone when she was blasted.  And she was definitely blasted.

            The familiar strains of a song came on and she decided to forget the line in the bathroom and she headed out to the dance floor:

Ice ice baby

Vanilla ice ice baby

Paula danced in circles around the various couples on the floor.  She danced her way over to Drew and picked up her margarita. He made a move like he wanted to get up and join her, but she just leaned forward, gave him a kiss with her Scarlet Macaw red lipstick, and told him to stay put and watch.  Thoughts were running through her head – he’s up for the seduction.  Ha.  How easy men could be.  She looked over at him and winked.  He started to get up again, but she wagged her finger at him. No No No.  Stay put like a good boy she indicated. And being the kind of guy he was, sat right back down on the barstool.  Paula could tell he couldn’t do it fast enough, and she knew she him pegged right. He couldn’t and wouldn’t and probably shouldn’t dance. And that was fine by her.

6. Drew

            Drew watched Paula dance most of the three hours they were at the club.  He  finally had to pull out his VISA card because her drinking had run him out of cash.  He wanted to leave, couldn’t stand the music, and wondered if he could stand her.  He was dying to know what all that stuff was at the restaurant about drinking.  It just wasn’t making any sense. She drinks like a fish, he thought, and I’m going broke. What the hell am I doing here?

            He finally decided to he had to put an end to this. His head hurt from the music, he was out of money, and his VISA didn’t have much credit on it as it was.  He made his way over to the dance floor, and that is when she pulled him to her, pulled him into her breasts, the red satin covered breasts, and placed his hands on her butt, moving around seductively, making him quickly forget about the headache and the lack of credit and the questions he had in his mind.  This was it. This is what he came for. At last.

            After the music they were dancing to ended, Paula leaned in close to him and said, “Let’s get out of here.”  They held each other closely as they walked toward the door, he jamming his hand into his pocket to get her car keys.  Once at the car he was planning on a warm up for what was to come later. He would ask her, “your place or mine?”  Corny, he knew, but it would work.

            But, it didn’t work.  In fact, when they got back to Paula’s Corolla she silently got in.  He immediately could feel the chill.  She said, “That was fun, but I’ve had enough. Take me back to Applebees so you can get your car.”  He wanted so much to ask her what was going on, but something about her mood silenced him.  He drove quietly up U.S. 41, back to Corkscrew Road and to his car at the restaurant.  Before he had a chance to turn off the car, to see if they could talk for a while, she said, “Goodnight, Drew.  I’m tired.  It’s been fun.”  Fun?  He was so stunned he could barely move.  He finally leaned over to give her a kiss, just on the cheek, but she would have none of it.  “I said, GOODNIGHT.”  And he knew that was his cue. He opened the door and got out of the car.  He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should ask her what was wrong. But something warned him not to go there.  She was sitting in her car, on the passenger’s side, staring straight ahead. He just didn’t get it.  Against what was considered the gentleman’s way of doing things, he left her there, in the Applebee’s dark parking lot, and he went home, his head spinning from the strange turn of events.

            That night, in a hazy bubble of sleep, he dreamed of being somewhere north of Alaska, on a large ice float, floating up to the Arctic.  He felt warm, but yet there it was: ice, ice all around him.  It seemed he woke and slept and had the dream over and over.  Ice ice everywhere.

(The conclusion will be posted tomorrow)