Loud day

It was a loud day. Well, how else can one describe a day that opens to the loud, blaring, uncomfortably cheery whistle of an ice cream truck. It rolled through Washington Heights with a vengeance, tearing into the ear drums of every unsuspecting, innocent resident. There were few, if any, children in the neighborhood. Clearly, the driver possessed little knowledge of economics. Or, maybe, a bit too much...

Marissa hated ice cream trucks. The way they proclaimed such artificially happy and sweet sounds -- life just didn't work like that. One day, you're living a dream, cleanly licking the crisp cream off the cone. Then you wake up, and you're back to reality, in a basement at the bottom of a shoddy apartment in the middle of Baltimore's sketchiest corner.

And the noise screamed Hyannis, Massachusetts. Childhood memories. Spring picnics, Fourth of July fireworks, lazy Augusts at the pool -- all swarmed within the radius of the sound's reach. These memories jolted the poor 20-something girl awake, and she stumbled out of bed, a little fiestiness, a little fire in her step.

She was a master as converting negative energy into the productive variety. And today was no exception, as she stormed onto the street, eyes straight ahead, with all the noise and chaos of the ghetto ringing in her ears.

Then that blasted truck came to a screeching halt, right beside Marissa. "Hey hey, would you like to hold something white."

"No."

"Oh, come on, girl, you know I've got something good for you."

"No."

Any other woman, maybe, the guy would have kept pestering. Maybe even hopped out of the truck to swoon his way into a drug deal. But Marissa, oh God Marissa, did not cast an inviting aura. And buddy had to respect that. Buddy, the notorious drug dealer, could not take on Washington Heights's primmest princess.

Henrietta Floggsbottom sure tried. "Marissa, my sweet, how are you this morning? I'm sure the boys have been all over you. That is, when they take their swooning eyes off my beautiful visage. Oh, the beautiful day. Lovely, isn't it. So cold, so rainy, but yet, so beautiful. For I am a part of it. Don't you think?"

Marissa didn't rightly know how to respond to such an advance. She calmly replied "Today is just like any other, Henrietta. I wake up, come outside, and witness all the pain and suffering in the world. Then I have you to brighten my day. I always appreciate your sweetness."

It was a pitiful attempt, but Henrietta fell for it. She absorbed up the subtly backhanded compliment with her usual gusto, and left Marissa alone.

Alone. Sometimes, that's all Marissa wanted. She was free when she was alone. No parents, no teachers, no adults who claimed mentor status but really just wanted to create clones of themselves. Only Marissa, in peaceful silence, with the inviting sounds of downtown refreshing her ears.

The noise was absent, but the drive had returned. Marissa would return to Hyannis, with a vengeance. First, she would need some money. Preferably an attractive fiance. Maybe a convertible and a royal bloodline to go along with him.

Or she could just bring along Oscar. Wow, what a brilliant idea. She would take Oscar back to the Cape. Waltz right into her parents house, demand compensation for all the emotional damage they caused her, and waltzed right back out -- with gambling ring leader all in tow.

Marissa was always a dreamer, but this opportuntiy seemed too hilarious to pass up in reality. The New England aristocracy wouldn't know what hit it.