The Secrets of Ice Cream Success

by AD Hartley

  ‘Haha! Get past!’ shouted Norton.’

  ‘Amateur!’ added Ben.

  ‘Booooooo!’ Mr Leodoni joined in, though no one really noticed the disembodied sound over the general hubbub. He was, he decided, having rather a large amount of fun.

  Mr Hill once again refused the opportunity to go next motioning that his employee should take the throw. ‘Make sure you hit it!’ he growled to Jones as the taller man stepped up and selected his ball.

  Herbert hovered in the background thoroughly annoyed at his first attempt and not at all sure he wanted his colleague to hit the target. In his mind it should be him to dump Carlo in the tank and he was aware that there seemed to be a growing list of failures that Mr Hill was not particularly pleased about. Herbert coughed loudly as the throw was about to be taken and received a prod in the stomach from Mr Hill. ‘Be quiet!’ the old man snarled.

  But to Herbert’s relief and the joy of the Leodoni’s team, Mr Jones’ throw flew wide of the mark, shooting in-between the target and the still dangling Carlo who turned and beamed to his cheering supporters.

  ‘Get out of the way, you fools.’ Mr Hill said, pushing past his two younger employees and grabbing a ball which he hurled without much thought in the general direction of the gunge tank, where it landed with a sad “plop” before sinking forlornly into the thick green gunge.

  Norton jumped up and down with glee as Mr Hill swore and stalked to the back of the queue. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Hill. You can retrieve that one when you get dumped in later!’ Norton called across.

  Herbert made to confront Norton on behalf of his employer but found another ball thrust into his hand by Mr Gardener, who cheerfully informed them all there were two more attempts each.

  Herbert took a deep breath to calm himself and turned back to the tank where he could see Carlo happily bouncing in the chair, seemingly enjoying the experience tremendously. Anger got the better of Herbert and he forgot the target, instead launching the ball directly at Carlo which, to everyone’s surprise, turned out to be the most accurate shot so far hitting Carlo squarely on the temple causing him to flinch and over balance, almost tumbling off the chair as it bounced on the mechanical arm. Scrambling back into place Carlo saw Ben and Abi launch themselves towards Herbert to confront him, only to be dragged back by the much taller Lumsden as the Mayor interjected.

  ‘Now now, let’s play fair.’ The Mayor said, looking worried.

  ‘Sorry, it slipped.’ Herbert mumbled, stepping back.

  ‘Booooo!’ jeered the Leodoni’s team as Carlo indicated to Mr Gardener that he was fine and ready for the next attempt.

  The fifth attempt from Mr Jones was the closest so far, glancing the target but not causing it to trigger a dunking, whilst Mr Hill didn’t even look at Carlo as he waddled up, picked up his ball and threw a lacklustre sixth attempt with little effort, walking straight to the back of the line before his throw had even landed, still 3 meters short of the tub.

  Carlo knew that Herbert was perfectly capable of hitting the target having already been struck by him with what he was sure was a purposefully thrown shot; so he prepared himself to be dunked at the seventh attempt as Herbert stepped up to the line. Carlo waved to the crowd in thanks for their support and applauded Herbert encouragingly, nodding towards the target and secretly rather looking forward to being dunked into the green slime below.

  But once again Carlo was left high and dry as this time Herbert propelled his ball with vicious intent straight at the target where it struck just shy of the centre ring, the only place that would trigger a dunking. It was, Carlo admitted, an excellent attempt, but a bellow of rage echoed around the area as Herbert rounded on Mr Gardener waving his hands at the target.

  ‘That was a direct hit!’ he screamed. ‘Why didn’t he fall?’

  ‘Can’t have been a direct hit, otherwise he would have.’ the small man said in a matter-of-fact manner, losing his broad smile for the first time. ‘My machine is precise. Unless you hit the centre circle of the target it will not activate.’

  ‘I DID hit the centre circle!’ Herbert screamed, looming over the man. ‘Everyone saw it!’

  ‘Clearly, you did not!’ the man replied, pointing at the perfectly dry Carlo still dangling above the gunge tank.

  ‘I want another go!’ Herbert shouted.

  But Mr Gardener was used to dealing with upset customer questioning his apparatus as a way of covering their own wayward aim. ‘Not a chance! Three shots only, now please step aside for the rest of your team to take their turn.’

  Unused to having smaller individuals not cowering as he towered over them with his most intimidating loom (Ben aside), Herbert mumbled his way to the side of the crowd stuffing his hands in his pockets, so upset he didn’t even react as Norton did an impression of Herbert attempting to throw, tripping on his own ankles and falling to the floor.

  In the meantime the penultimate attempt had flown wide of the mark once again as Mr Jones looked just as uninterested in the entire event as Mr Hill himself and barely put in any effort. Realising that the other members of his team were now stood to the side and there was no one to hide behind, Mr Hill took a deep breath and at least tried to look like he was actively trying to hit the target. He removed his large top hat and his jacket and handed them both to Herbert before collecting the final ball, his balding head now glinting almost as much as his bright waistcoat in the evening sun.

  ‘Good luck, Mr Hill.’ Carlo called out, genuinely hoping for a direct hit.

  Mr Hill ignored him and took aim, breathing heavily and sweating in the heat. He pulled back his arm and released it as hard as he could towards the target. The ball arced gracefully, if slowly, through the air falling rather pathetically into Carlo’s hands who caught it in his lap, before dropping it into the tank with an embarrassed smile.

  The crowd applauded politely as the Mayor stepped forward looking slightly perplexed having not anticipated that one of the teams would fail to hit the target entirely.

  ‘Well, I suppose Master Leodoni gets a reprieve.’ The Mayor said, indicating to Mr Gardener that he could lower Carlo to the ground. Carlo shrugged to the team with a sigh of resignation.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Abi muttered, picking up a spare ball from the ground. She strode up to the Mayor and without missing a step propelled the ball directly at the target, which it hit with a satisfying metallic clang triggering the hydraulics. There was a slight pause as everyone stood staring at her in surprise before Carlo was tipped out of the chair, barely able to say ‘Arghh!’ before he landed face first in the gunge.

  Abi sauntered casually back to Mr Lumsden as Norton, Ben and Newton ran past her to the gunge tank, waving their hands in triumph despite the fact their leader had just been dunked. Carlo was extracting himself from the gunge, green slime covering him from head to foot as Mr Gardener placed a small ladder on the tub to help him get out.

  ‘You look a sight.’ Newton smiled.

  ‘Thanks.’ Carlo said, wiping his eyes on a towel offered by Mr Gardener leaving two relatively clean holes in an otherwise green face.

  ‘That looked ACE!’ Norton exclaimed. ‘I want a go!’

  ‘We haven’t finished yet!’ Mr Gardener interrupted, waving the boys back to the side-lines and nodding to the Mayor to continue.

  The boys made their way back to the others where Abi stood with a smirk.

  ‘Thanks.’ Carlo said, wryly.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ she replied, holding out his bag in which he’d packed some spare clothes.

  ‘Life saver! This stuff is awful. I’ll nip back to the van.’ he said, but then groaned as he was called forward again by the Mayor.

  ‘Master Leodoni, if you would please join us with the other members of your team.’

  ‘But I…’ he started to protest, hoping to get changed first, but gave in as the Mayor waved him forward. ‘Come on you.’ he said, grabbing Abi and pulling her with him.

  Carlo and Abi reached the Mayor an
d found they had been followed by Ben, Newton and Norton.

  ‘Only three team members allowed.’ Mr Gardener said, indicating Carlo’s larger team.

  ‘These two!’ Carlo said immediately, pointing at Abi and Ben.

  ‘Oi!’ Norton protested.

  ‘What?’ Carlo asked. ‘Ben is the best shot in the school. He’s just too lazy to be in any of the teams.’

  ‘Yep.’ Ben agreed with a nod.

  ‘And you’ve just seen what Abi can do.’

  ‘Yeah, alright, but…’ groaned Norton, but not having much of a rebuttal, he grumbled himself into silence.

  ‘No, no, no!’ Mr Hill shouted, marching over to the group. ‘Not her!’ he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Abi.

  ‘Me? What have I done?’ Abi asked.

  ‘Errr…’ Mr Hill stumbled over his words trying to think of a viable reason to prevent the clearly sharp shooting young lady from taking part.

  ‘She never sold any ice cream!’ Herbert supplied for his boss.

  ‘Yes, yes! That’s it. She never sold any Ice Cream.’ Mr Hill said, relieved. ‘And neither did he!’ he continued pointing at Ben under the assumption that he was likely just as good a shot as his sister. ‘Did he?’ Mr Hill whispered to Herbert.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Whoah! Hang on a second, I didn’t see either of you too selling any ice creams either.’ Ben protested pointing at Herbert and Mr Hill, who looked quite offended by the outburst.

  The Mayor stepped in to point out the obvious. ‘As there are only three team members within the Hill’s party, it is clear that all three had to take part. However, given that the Leodoni’s team consists of… one, two… ah… six’ he counted, ‘clearly a compromise must be reached, therefore I agree that only those members of the team that actually sold ice cream on the day shall be allowed to take part in the dunking.’

  Ben, Abi and Norton groaned loudly.

  ‘OK, OK.’ Carlo sighed. ‘Come on you two.’ he continued, pulling Newton and Lumsden into place behind the line.

  Herbert walked behind Mr Hill holding his jacket and hat and then stood as the older gentleman removed his shoes, socks, watch and handkerchief and passed them to his employee. As Mr Hill started to undo the braces above his shirt, Mr Gardener jumped in just in time, advising that the gunge washed out easily and caused no permanent damage.

  ‘Well, as long as you’re sure.’ Mr Hill harrumphed. ‘This shirt was very expensive.’

  Carlo and the team watched Mr Hill make slow progress climbing onto the chair and settling himself in as Mr Leodoni invisibly circled them barely able to contain his excitement.

  ‘This will be so much fun!’ he whispered to Carlo, before whizzing off again.

  Carlo, who was still mostly green, barely heard his father as his ears were still full of gunge, some of which was drying and flaking off as he moved. He picked up a ball and flexed his arm causing a shower of green specks to fall around his feet. Never the best shot anyway, he was feeling slightly constricted by the thick layer of slime now caking his body.

  He looked up and saw Mr Hill finally in place and Herbert, still holding much of Mr Hill’s wardrobe, slap Mr Gardener on the back in a jovial manner before moving to the side. Mr Gardener stood next to the hydraulic controls and gave the Mayor a thumbs up, who then waved Carlo forward.

  ‘In your own time, Leodoni’s team.’

  Carlo looked at his teammates and seeing neither of them show any inclination to be the first to throw, he stepped up and took aim. On the chair Mr Hill alternated between a scowl and utter panic at the slightest wobble of the hydraulic rig, gripping tightly to the arms of the seat. Sweat was dripping down his balding head and he looked an oddly wretched sight sat there disrobed from his usual grand jacket and hat, from under which he typically looked so intimidating.

  A moment’s pity crossed Carlo’s mind as he tried to focus on the target.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ whispered Mr Leodoni.

  Carlo dropped his hand and pretended to busy himself wiping so more drying green gunk from his eyes.

  ‘Nothing, it’s just…’ he said from behind his arm so no one could see him talking.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right. He’s older than you!’ Carlo whispered.

  ‘He wants to close our company.’ Mr Leodoni pointed out.

  ‘I know, but…’

  ‘Son, it’s up to you, but I would take it as a grand gesture on your part if you would dump this horrid chap in the slime for me.’

  Carlo sighed, still unsure.

  ‘Carlo, you switched off your targeting computer. What’s wrong?’ Norton shouted from the side-lines.

  ‘Are you going to throw or can I leave? I haven’t got all day to hang around waiting for Luigi Leodoni’s offspring.’ Mr Hill snarled from the seat.

  Carlo turned to stare at the old man, still fidgeting in place with every bounce of the chair. Pathetic he may look, but his father was right. Mr Hill was working towards ending Leodoni’s. A dunk into some green slime was the least he deserved. He stood up straight, all sympathy gone.

  ‘Dad, watch this!’ Carlo said, pulling back his arm like a baseball pitcher and releasing the ball directly on target where it hit dead centre.

  Luigi whooped in triumph, the crowd cheered and Carlo waited in anticipation for the slight pause he knew took place as the machinery kicked in, but nothing happened. The cheering died down as the crowd realised the shot must have missed and there were some audible groans of disappointment, the loudest from Norton and Mr Leodoni.

  Carlo was absolutely certain his throw had hit the target dead centre, not slightly off target as Herbert’s final shot had been.

  He looked at Mr Hill, who was still scrabbling in place on the seat like a cat dangling above water, worried that he would be tipped into the slime at any second. Then Carlo noticed Herbert stood to the side with a grin on his face. He laughed at Carlo’s surprise and gave him a sarcastic shrug to suggest the shot must have missed the target. Carlo stared at Herbert trying to guess what the older boy was up to, but not wanting to create a scene as Herbert had earlier, Carlo decided to play along.

  He smiled and waved to the crowd, making way for the next thrower. ‘Almost.’ he said laughing, as Lumsden stepped forward.

  The tall man, who in his own way looked just as unlikely an athlete as Norton, picked up a ball and surprised everyone by extending his long arm back and snapping the ball forward with tremendous speed where it whizzed at the target, ricocheting off with a glancing blow and just missing the centre.

  ‘Wow! Good shot!’ Carlo said, genuinely impressed.

  Lumsden smiled at his amazement. ‘I used to play cricket, Misssster Leodoni. You have to have a good arm if you field in the ssslips.’

  ‘Apparently.’ Carlo agreed with a laugh as Newton warily stepped forward. Unlike Norton, who despite all evidence to the contrary consistently talked up his sporting prowess, Newton was under no illusions at all about his ability. He picked up the ball and sent a tame effort vaguely on line though it fell short of the target. With a shrug he ambled to the back of the queue, letting Carlo move forwards.

  Knowing full well that the accuracy and power of his first shot was a product of blind luck and anger, Carlo’s second attempt was much less impressive, barely troubling the target and eliciting groans from Abi, Ben and Norton on the side-lines.

  Mr Hill began to look bored, perched above the tank, while Herbert stood to the side still grinning. Lumsden took his second turn and released an even more powerful throw, which this time Carlo was certain had indeed hit the target, but once again, after initial applause from the crowd, it was clear that the ball must have missed as Mr Hill continued to dangle above the gunge tank.

  ‘Is that thing switched on?’ Ben shouted across to Mr Gardener.

  ‘Of course it is. It’s not my fault if everyone keeps missing.’

  Ben looked dubious.

&nbs
p; ‘You must have thrown a wicked shot to set that thing off.’ Luigi’s ghostly voice said to Abi as he floated back to the supporters.

  ‘Well, yes.’ she agreed, with a little pride, ‘But I’m sure Carlo and Lumsden have both hit that target too.’

  ‘I’m positive they have.’ Ben agreed.

  Luigi floated away with a spectral ‘Hmmmm…’ He landed next to Newton who was taking aim with his second attempt and decided to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. Newton pulled back his arm and let go with a stronger though less well aimed throw and Luigi shot after it, guiding the ball invisibly from its wayward path straight at the target, where it hit dead centre. The crowd erupted in cheers once more having not expected such a keen curveball from Newton, who looked reasonably surprised himself. Luigi floated up above the tank in anticipation of watching Mr Hill disappear into the gunge, but was disappointed as nothing happened. There were more groans from the crowd.

  ‘Must we prolong this debacle?’ Mr Hill called across to the Mayor.

  ‘Now, now, Haverton. Both teams must be allowed the same number of attempts. I believe Leodoni’s still have three more.’

  ‘I have better things to be doing with my time.’ Mr Hill grumbled, as Carlo readied himself for his final shot, still trying to scratch off dry green slime, which was irritating him as he moved.

  Behind the dunking stall, Mr Leodoni was inspecting the hydraulics certain that they must be broken in some way. A loose valve or bent arm perhaps, yet he couldn’t see anything amiss. On the other side of the screen there was a thunk and “oohs” from the crowd as Carlo missed with his third and final attempt and as Luigi continued to search he vaguely heard an argument breaking out.

  ‘You can’t change the order!’ Herbert shouted from beside his dangling employer.

  ‘Why not?’ Carlo asked, bemused.

  ‘You just can’t!’

  ‘Oh be quiet, you buffoon.’ Abi shouted across from the crowd.

  ‘Don’t you call me a buffoon!’ Herbert shouted, advancing towards her.

  ‘Herbert, get back here. Do not leave me!’ Mr Hill yelled forcing Herbert to spin around sharply and slouch back to the side of the stall, still holding Mr Hill’s belongings.