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Sep. 2nd, 2018 08:02 pmVyvyan had never had so much money. Part of him realised he should never have tried to be a doctor in the first place, given that ice cream man made so much more. Of course, he also realised that after summer ended, he was going to have to branch into something else. Would people pay for lentil casserole?
He'd decked out his ice cream van just as he liked it. Portable TV, decent camp bed. He'd even hooked up a camp shower on the back, which worked quite well so long as he'd found something to fill it up with from time to time. There wasn't a toilet, but he wasn't too worried about that.
He began to wonder more and more about the future. He couldn't get an apartment easily, because that was too risky. But if he left everything in the van, and it got stolen or caught fire, he'd then be left with nothing. Fortunately, money seemed to grease the wheels. It wasn't difficult to rent a couple of storage units, in different places, to hide some money and basic supplies. He'd looked into living in one for the winter, but turned out that was illegal.
One evening, as he is lying in the camp bed watching Wheel of Fortune, there is a knock on the window shutter. This isn't unusual, because of where he parks.
"What'll it be?" he asks, pulling the shutters up.
"Mario, you're taking money out of my family's mouths, man." the seedy chap at the window says. Vyvyan, who has never bothered to paint over the 'Mario's' on his ice cream van, leans on the counter.
"I'm not illegally parked, Don. If your customers choose to spend their money here that's up to them. Besides, you know I bring in more trade, that's why you haven't shot me."
"Yeah, that was before you started charging twenty dollars for a 'Best ice cream in the world'." Don complains.
"I'm not making them buy it, they could get an ordinary cone." Vyvyan says, cleaning the counter with a rag. He's seen ice cream people do this on tv. Of course, he's never actually cleaned the rag.
It was a stroke of genius, he reckons, finding Don's drug den. Turns out that what people really want in the middle of the night when they're off their face is an ice cream, and he can name his price. Don, who had found his customer numbers increased by about 25% when Vyvyan parked on the same street, generally tolerated him, but complained at times that Vyvyan was taking the piss.
"Hey, Don. Where's the best place for a guy like me to spend the winter?" he asks, offering Don a cigarette. "Somewhere the cops won't bother me."
"You could just drive South, Florida's nice." Don says, lighting the cigarette. "Probably warm enough that you could keep selling."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. And you could go see Disneyland. You'd probably like that, kid." Don said, softening up. "Seriously, Mario, you're making a fortune, why are you living in that van?"
Vyvyan takes a drag on his cigarette. Don is the closest thing he's made to a friend out here.
"Someone wants me dead." He says, simply. "I have to keep moving, I'll be out of your hair soon."
"Who wants you dead?" Don asks.
"Masons." Vyvyan lies.
"Jeez, they got branches all over. The hell you do?"
"You don't wanna know. Anyway, you buying an ice cream or not? Because I'm missing Wheel of Fortune."
Don glances at the board.
"Go on then, the one shaped like a football, but I want your daytime prices."
He'd decked out his ice cream van just as he liked it. Portable TV, decent camp bed. He'd even hooked up a camp shower on the back, which worked quite well so long as he'd found something to fill it up with from time to time. There wasn't a toilet, but he wasn't too worried about that.
He began to wonder more and more about the future. He couldn't get an apartment easily, because that was too risky. But if he left everything in the van, and it got stolen or caught fire, he'd then be left with nothing. Fortunately, money seemed to grease the wheels. It wasn't difficult to rent a couple of storage units, in different places, to hide some money and basic supplies. He'd looked into living in one for the winter, but turned out that was illegal.
One evening, as he is lying in the camp bed watching Wheel of Fortune, there is a knock on the window shutter. This isn't unusual, because of where he parks.
"What'll it be?" he asks, pulling the shutters up.
"Mario, you're taking money out of my family's mouths, man." the seedy chap at the window says. Vyvyan, who has never bothered to paint over the 'Mario's' on his ice cream van, leans on the counter.
"I'm not illegally parked, Don. If your customers choose to spend their money here that's up to them. Besides, you know I bring in more trade, that's why you haven't shot me."
"Yeah, that was before you started charging twenty dollars for a 'Best ice cream in the world'." Don complains.
"I'm not making them buy it, they could get an ordinary cone." Vyvyan says, cleaning the counter with a rag. He's seen ice cream people do this on tv. Of course, he's never actually cleaned the rag.
It was a stroke of genius, he reckons, finding Don's drug den. Turns out that what people really want in the middle of the night when they're off their face is an ice cream, and he can name his price. Don, who had found his customer numbers increased by about 25% when Vyvyan parked on the same street, generally tolerated him, but complained at times that Vyvyan was taking the piss.
"Hey, Don. Where's the best place for a guy like me to spend the winter?" he asks, offering Don a cigarette. "Somewhere the cops won't bother me."
"You could just drive South, Florida's nice." Don says, lighting the cigarette. "Probably warm enough that you could keep selling."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. And you could go see Disneyland. You'd probably like that, kid." Don said, softening up. "Seriously, Mario, you're making a fortune, why are you living in that van?"
Vyvyan takes a drag on his cigarette. Don is the closest thing he's made to a friend out here.
"Someone wants me dead." He says, simply. "I have to keep moving, I'll be out of your hair soon."
"Who wants you dead?" Don asks.
"Masons." Vyvyan lies.
"Jeez, they got branches all over. The hell you do?"
"You don't wanna know. Anyway, you buying an ice cream or not? Because I'm missing Wheel of Fortune."
Don glances at the board.
"Go on then, the one shaped like a football, but I want your daytime prices."
