Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Have Boat Will Travel: Pizza, Ice Cream and...

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico fishing in in the Atlantic


This story turned into a small series, Have Boat Will Travel. This is the final part, part III Pizza, Ice Cream and... in the series. I was only going to write one blog. But it turned out to be almost 3,000 words or more. So, this story is written and will be released once a week throughout January. I hope you enjoy!

January 30, 2013


My guys look at me and smile. There is no place they’d rather be. But the sun and fun makes way for hunger pangs that intrude in the day’s activities, so it’s time to move on. 

We pack the boat and head to the public docks and leave our island dreams behind.


Pizza, Ice Cream and...


I glide my boat up to the city docks, which stretch out just beyond the downtown entertainment district. I thrust the boat power to the engine back and forth until she gently floats into a slip while the momentum brushes her up against the dock. I quickly grab the boat lines that are attached to the cleats of the fiberglass molding and moor her to the pier. Not an easy feat when you are alone and at the same time, keeping your 2 eager children at bay from jumping ashore.

We disembark from our pleasure cruise and begin to make our way to the main street where the pizza store and ice cream shop are located.

Thankfully, it’s just off the docks so we don’t have to venture off too far.
 The building where the ice cream is housed isn’t too hard to find. It’s a hideous lime green and pink facade and yet, no matter how ugly it appears, it somehow feels comforting. A welcoming sight for anyone on the hunt for cream and milk.

My boys eagerly enter the ice cream shop before we even have the pizza restaurant within reach.

Nico and Christopher don’t intend to eat ice cream first, their intentions lie in the miniature train that is encased in plexiglas that is mounted to the countertop. The train travels back and forth (North to south) with just a press of the button, that’s attached to the main wall.

[Push the button] train moves forward.

The boys run to the other side to wait for the arrival of the train. Their fast moving bodies move other patrons out of the way.

“Choo choo!” they announce out loud.

“Sorry (sucking in my lips),” I say to the paying customers.

[Push the button] trains move backwards.

The boys move the patrons out of the way again and follow the train to the other end.

“[Haha] (I nervously laugh) okay boys say excuse me,” I tell the boys, as I look at the ice cream connoisseurs.

“Tell the train ‘bye’ and will be back”

“Goodbye, train,” Nico says.

We walk over to the pizza restaurant that is adjacent to the ice cream shop.  When we walk inside I approach the counter and over to the friendly pizza maker to choose the pizza we want. However, the boys had other plans. 

They decided to run around the tiny restaurants’ seating area, choosing food they’d like to have from the restaurant that wasn’t behind the safety of the workers but out front on display. They grabbed food without impunity.

“Umm, 2 cheese slices, please,” I begin to say. “This bag of chips, that bag of chips. Okay this water. That Coke Zero.

...no, no lollipop’s...

...no soda...

no beer...

Hey! Now you guys are just grabbing anything! Put it all back!”

The boys gobble their slice of pizza. It was evident they are vanquished after a long day of fun n’ sun, but we aren’t done yet. We move over to the ice cream where the choice is much easier.

“Chocolate chip cookie with cookie dough, please.”

We take our ice cream and walk over to the water fountains that are at the end of the main street. 

The piping for the individual fountains is recessed into the ground, where powerful jets of water, shoot out of them creating a small Bellagio Fountain. 

This fountain is a playground for children, to run and play, in a concrete watery paradise. In-between the water spouts, droplets of water crash on to the decorative concrete below. 

The giggles my children share with others is intoxicating. They run up to me and wrap their little pruned arms around me, soaking my clothes. I can only muster up the statement, “dang, that’s cold” and marvel how oblivious they are to the chill penetrating through my own skin.

“Okay,” I announce to Nico “where is Christopher (my three year old), he was just here?”

“Christopher!”

I look up at the collection pool where the run off water accumulates. There is water in a narrow passage way that lines the perimeter of the fountain. My son Christopher, is wading in the water like he was home in the bathtub.

“Christopher, no swimming in there, no!"

Nico walks over to the pooling water with a skip to his step.

“Bay, bay,” Nico announces as he gets closer

“Good job Nico, get him out of there.”

Nico stands on the edge of the concrete barrier and looks at me with a mischievous grin.

“Nico, don’t you do it. No!” already knowing what he’s going to do.

[Splash]

“Ya did it.”


The boys swim in the narrow water way. The water holder is no wider then a small creek that runs through the backyards of a farm house somewhere in the mountains. I can only shake my head. I marvel at the fun a kid can have, even in the most inappropriate place. 

But the way I saw it, if the city didn’t want them to swim in these small pools, why would they place them so close to the “Bellagio Fountains” was beyond me.

They were swimming in the little concrete barriers, like birds in a birdbath.   

After nervously watching them splash in the water, I decided we had to go before the sun eclipsed our daylight and definitely before the arrival of security. 

“Boys, let’s go please,” I announce.

[Crickets]

“Boys lets go, come on.”

I walk down the stairs where the ponds are built, into the sides of the steps. I rest my knees against the purposely constructed rough walls and reach over the sides, bending down to grab Christopher. 

He flails like a fish out of water but he is no match for my strength. We struggle for clothing domination, but after some quick thinking, I was able to slip his swimming shirt off and remove his bathing trunks exposing his little swimmers diaper. Still trying to gain the upper hand of parental control, I place my hand on his very water filled diaper and push him into me.

[Boom]

The pressure of my hand against his bodily resistance crushed the diaper causing it to exploded the a mixture of brown stuff and soupy liquid. It washed over my shirt, like a wave that was crashing on the island beach.

“Is this? Did you? [Sniff, sniff] oh no. You did. And it is.”

I can only bow my head and close my eyes. 

It’s okay Chris, it’s okay- I think to myself. 

I open my eyes and peer at my sons knees. The same mess on my shirt is trickling down his legs from the water logged diaper.  Frantic to get him clean I look around for people how may or may not have seen this tragedy. They didn’t see me.

“Okay Christopher, not a problem. Not a problem.”

I lift him up in the air and proceed to dunk him into the fountain, washing him clean for now. I quickly grab a towel from the bag and dry him off. And without skipping a beat I dress him and move quickly to Nico to get him changed. 
We hold hands and I walk them back to the docks and to our waiting boat. The sea was calm. The city reflected off the dark water as the sun slowly disappeared, closing out another day. 

The boat was good to us today. We had a lot of good laughs, fun times, and good food. I’ll travel with this boat for a long time if it continues to build memories that will last a lifetime. I just hope that the some of these memories will wash out of my shirt. 





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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto ©  is also a Registered Copyright with the Office of the Registers, United States of America, TX 7-611-138