Keys to the Ice Cream Parlor

Sam and I had been together our entire lives. Thrust together by our parents at a young age, we became fast friends. I can remember the first time we ever met, which is insane to say because we were only four years old at the time, and I don't have many other memories of being four.

"I am going to get strawberry. What flavor are you getting?" Sam asked, his freckled face pressed against the glass of Main Street Ice Cream's store window. I had been too shy to respond, thought I knew the flavor I would pick, it was double chocolate chip, I always chose double chocolate."

My mother ordered for me as I stood with my body hidden behind hers. "Double chocolate, that's not a bad choice. I'm more of a classics guy myself, but if you like the rich flavors, you should try chocolate decadence. My dad swears by it." I eyed the tub of chocolate decadence as we left the store that day, how the chocolate fudge swirled through the chips, and chunks of fudge brownie. My stomach raged even though I'd just filled it with Ice cream. "Mom," I tugged on her sleeve, "can we come back tomorrow?"

The memory of that day always made my heart flutter. We didn't come back the next day. But we did come back eventually. When Sam and I warmed up to each other, we would make a habit of coming to the ice cream store after school. My favorite flavor switched to chocolate decadence soon after that, and Sam's stuck with strawberry. However, he would sometimes scoop some of mine out, especially when he needed a reminder of his dad.

It would be fitting that we were on our way to that same ice cream store when it happened, when we left this world for the last time. The truck came out of nowhere, hydroplaning in the storm and t-boning our car. Sam and I were always together, so why wouldn't we die together as well?

"I guess I owe you that 10 bucks then…"

A chill ran down my spine as I took in the scene in front of me. I stood in a large, white, looking room. Next to me, Sam stood smiling down at me, as he had on so many days before.

"Huh?" I questioned. The last thing I remembered was the car spinning out on the road, headed for the cliff. Sam's pained look as he was reaching out for my hand, the blood pooling in his chest, and the shattered glass in both of our laps.

"Don't you remember?" I bet you 10 dollars that there was no afterlife.

"That's what you're thinking about right now?" I pulled my hand from his. Staggering back, bumping into another person. It was only then that I realized that he and I were not the only people in the room. Whatever this room was, it seemed to be some waiting room, and we were in line.

"Was there something else I should be thinking about? I mean, we're dead. I should think that at this point I am finally free to think whatever I want." He joked.

Of course, Sam was finding some way to make the best of a situation like this, that was just the way he was. An optimist, the glass is always half full; let's look on the bright side. It made me want to wring his neck half the time, too bad we were already dead.

"We're dead!" I yelled. "Are you not even the slightest bit upset? Concerned? I mean, what about our families? They must be devastated."

"Of course I'm upset, Georgia—but what am I supposed to do about that from here, from an ice cream parlor?"

"A what?" I looked around. The brightness of the white room had settled, and I could now take in the room for what it was. We were inside an exact replica of Main Street Ice Cream parlor. The shelves were lined with the same vintage candies they'd stocked up on almost every day after school. She could smell the fresh scent of waffle cones, as if they were still being baked in the kitchen that was just beyond the swinging green door. Expect in this reality, there were two doors, one on either side of the counter. There were even the same photos of kids from their school who had been caught stealing pasted behind the counter.

The line they stood in began to shorten as the patrons in front of us moved forward. I slipped my hand into Sam's, the same way I had on the nights we stayed up watching scary movies. His cold fingers closed around my clammy palm.

There had never been anything romantic between us, even after all of our days together. I'd always wished there had been, but I had always been too scared to admit it. I just stood by as Sam took other girls to prom, as he got love letters from them stuck into his locker. None of them knew that we'd shared his locker in high school because of its proximity to the main staircase, and more importantly, the exit. He read every one of those letters aloud to me, while we shared ice cream in his car after school. I gave him advice on which girl was worth his time and which ones weren't. I watched him get his heart broken and watched him fall in love. Wishing it was me he was falling into every time. Regret pooled in my gut.

Sam pulled on my hand as he stepped forward. We were third in line now.

"Aren't you coming?'

"I—" The memories of all of the mistakes I never made kept me rooted in that spot. I could see the flavors of the ice cream in the freezer in front of us now. There was the familiar chocolate decadence lying right in front of me. But my mouth didn't water for it the same way it had when I was a child, when I was alive.

"I never tried strawberry." The words rushed out of me before I could stop them.

"Huh?" Sam said, stepping back towards me. An elderly couple passed in front of us in line.

"I mean, when we were alive, you always took scoops of my ice cream—but I never took a chance on strawberry."

Sam cocked his head to the side. It took a moment before the realization set in. He clenched my hand tighter. A shiver ran up my spine, and I couldn't tell if it was from the cold of the store or the feelings in my gut. I thought likely the latter since I was dead and cold, so it shouldn't bother me anymore.

"It's not too late to try." He gestured to the strawberry.

"Next!" The pimple-faced high school kid behind the counter gestured us up to the counter.

"I'll have the strawberry, in a waffle cone," I said confidently.

"I'll have the chocolate decadence," Sam said.

My gaze shot towards him. "Sam?"

The attendant passed us our ice creams, each of them had a key sticking out of the top. "Chocolate decadence, to the right. Strawberry to the left. No refunds or exchanges."

"I'm sorry, Georgia." He shuffled past me and walked toward the door on the right of the counter.

"No Sam! How could you do this? You can't leave me, we've always been together!" I struggled to reach him, but with every step I took towards the door on the right, the room seemed to pull me towards the left.

Sam stood in front of the door on the right. He plucked the key out of his chocolate ice cream, licking the ice cream off it. I swear my heart broke for a second time as I watched him open the door.

"Ahh, Sameal, welcome back." A voice said from the other side of the door.

"SAM!" I screamed. Strawberry ice cream dripped down the front of my arm as I crushed the waffle cone in my hand. He did not look back at me as he crossed the threshold. All my life, it had been Sam and me, never apart, always together. I thought I had known everything about him. Perhaps I had been foolish to believe he would follow me into the afterlife, that he would finally love me in whatever comes after this door. Foolish, yes, that's exactly what I had been. A fool in love with someone I didn't even know. I tossed the strawberry cone to the ground and wiped the dripping ice cream from my hand. I don't even like strawberries.

"Georgia Smith. As you chose strawberry, you've been given access to the left door. Do you need help crossing?" An attendant said as I pushed myself to my feet. I shoved off the attendant's touch. "This is how you decide our fate? By which ice cream we choose. How pathetic." I turned back and picked up the golden key that still lay in a pool of melting strawberry goo.

I walked over to the left door and pulled the key from the melted cone, dropping the rest of it to the ground.

"No, this is how you see your fate. The room is displayed differently to each person. You saw your fate as something as simple as a daily choice. Surprisingly, you changed it that simply as well." My hand hovered over the keyhole.

"Does that mean I can still go through the right door?"

"Darling, that is the right door." I swallowed hard, as if I already knew the answer before they said it, and turned the key.