Xavier Remington 
It was a hot sunny July Sunday as I sat by the window in my library at Remington Manor. I was reading up on the latest happenings in the paranormal world courtesy of Paranormal Investigators Monthly Magazine. A warm breeze flowed in on the verge of being hot so I contemplated turning on the central air. Suddenly child-like whimsy entered my heart upon hearing the most quintessential sound of summer in the distance! The merry melodies of the neighborhood ice cream truck making it creamy rounds. Naturally, there was also the sound of kids screaming for ice cream. I peered out the front door as the music grew louder. Some kids ran past yelling, “Ask Mom for some money! The ice cream man is coming!”
I could see the white truck gleaming in the sun in the distance. It came down the road slowly making its way here. I set my mystical magazine down and walked out to partake of some creamy delights. As I strolled toward the street my girlfriend Rebecca Abernathy came around from the back of the house where she had been working on her glorious garden. She exclaimed, “Hey wait for me, Xavier! I’m dying for some ice cream!” We strolled down the cement sidewalk as children ran past full of joy and anticipation of their sweet selections. Soon the truck was upon us and the music stopped as everyone clamored around the big truck of treats.
I had ordered ice cream from a truck a few times this summer but this particular time the ice cream truck and the man at the helm were completely unfamiliar to me. Someone very sinister-looking but I learned a long time ago not to judge a book by its cover. Especially in the world of the supernatural where looks can be deeply deceiving. So I looked past his creepy appearance that came complete with a somewhat unsettling smile. I set my sights on a Creamsicle while Rebecca was hoping for a Dreamsicle. Luckily the ice cream man, whose name tag said Ernie, had both.
As Rebecca, and I enjoyed our orange creamy goodness I observed Ernie’s interaction with the kids and something just didn’t seem right about him. It was a gut feeling but I had a hunch he harbored ill will toward the children despite his smile. There was just something not right about the look in his dark foreboding eyes and the tone of his seemingly disingenuous voice. The melodiousness of the white freezer on wheels roared up and the truck slowly rolled away down Enchantment Lane.
I was sound asleep sometime after Midnight in the thick of the Witching Hour as I dreamed of swimming from a beach into the ocean to meet an ice cream boat. LOL! The music of the boat grew louder and I woke up before I made it there. I was still hearing the faint whimsical tunes as I lie awake in the dark shadows of my bedroom. I looked out the window and it was the ice cream truck inching along the roadway without its headlights on. Yet the music was playing at a much lower volume than usual. The cab was dimly lit by an eerie green light. I got out my night vision binoculars and I could see what appeared to be Ernie in the Driver’s seat staring out at houses. He stopped in front of one house that had kids and walked out onto the front lawn. Read The Rest Of This Short Story In The Adventures Of Mystic Investigations…🍦
