Today I was at color guard practice. The sun directly on me, and the far off sounds of people whining and metal hitting the ground. My arms ached, and in that instant the thought of ice cream flashed through my head. But I knew I had to shove that thought away. I spoke to myself “There is no ice cream around here, why would I even think about such a silly thing?” That’s when I heard a sound that only existed to me in movies and television. That was the sound of an ice cream truck. So I was pretty sure I was losing my mind at that point, seeing that there has never been an ice cream truck in or around Montague. I’ve only dreamed of such things as a child. But it kept getting louder, this jing-jangle rhythmic racket. Finally someone else heard it. I thought the sun must have eaten away at that child’s brain too. I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing anymore. All I could focus on was this beckoning noise. It was getting so loud. Finally I gave up working. This ice cream truck was coming, it was almost there, and it was coming for me. Years of waiting had finally paid off. That’s when I saw it. Only my sweet image had been disfigured. The chariot of ice cream had come, but it was no truck. This, my friends, was an ice cream van. Even though I was not able to get ice cream, the very sight of it had made up for all those lost years of my childhood. Children started to appear from everywhere. Behind signs, out of trees, it seemed as though some emerged from the ground. As he drove away, I listened to the sound of the ice cream van in the far off distance. I wondered if I’d ever see this magical ice cream man again. I also wondered if he had puppies and shag carpet in that van also.