Read The Empire of Ice Cream for Free Online

drowned month and gave his two assistants the time off as well. I dressed and answered the door. Standing on the landing of the rickety wooden stairs that led up from the back of the Glass Works, drenched to the skin, was Maylee. Her usually wavy locks (Mother Carushe knew a thing or two about hair fashion) were slicked and stringy from the downpour, making her already large eyes more prominent. Her fair complexion had a bluish tinge and she was shivering. I stepped back and let her in.
    As soon as the door was closed, I went into the back room and brought a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. She thanked me, her teeth still chattering, and I ushered her over to a chair at the small table near the veranda. Shutting the glass doors to keep the chill off her, I then sat down in the opposite seat. Before I could speak, she lifted a small leather pouch with a drawstring onto the table.
    â€œFrom Mrs. Strellop,” she said.
    â€œHow so?” I asked.
    â€œShe told me many times, especially in her last weeks, that if anything should happen to her, I should give this to you.”
    â€œWhat’s in it?”
    She shook her head.
    I reached out and grabbed the satchel, pulling it along the table toward me. As I undid the drawstring, Maylee said to me, “Would you like me to leave?”
    I laughed. “No, at least get warmed up before going back out in it.”
    She nodded, looking relieved.
    Then I opened the pouch, and a familiar scent wafted up. I lifted the bag and held it to my nose for a moment. “Foxglove tea,” I said with a smile.
    â€œOh, yes,” said Maylee, leading me to believe that she had tasted the strange brew.
    â€œShall I make some now? It might warm you a little.”
    â€œPlease,” she said.
    I went immediately over to my stove, got a fire going, and put a kettle of water on. As I filled the big copper tea ball, I noticed for the first time that the stuff was multicolored, made up of flecks of red and yellow, a pale green and some miniscule blue nuggets, suggesting that there were other ingredients in it besides the dried petals of its namesake. It struck me then that perhaps there was no foxglove in it at all, that it had just been a name the missus had assigned it.
    I rejoined Maylee at the table while waiting for the water to boil. “You knew Mrs. Strellop quite well, didn’t you?” I asked, lifting my cigarettes off the tabletop. I offered one to her, and she accepted. Striking a match, I lit my own and then reached across to share the flame.
    She took a drag and nodded. “I saw her every day. I would bring her vegetables from the barge that comes down from the farm country. She gave me three dollars for my effort, which I had to give to Mother Carushe, but then Mrs. Strellop would also give me a cup of this tea. ‘Just for you, my dear,’ she’d say.”
    â€œThat tea is something, isn’t it?” I asked, laughing.
    â€œI’d take the tea and sit with her for an hour. She always had some story to tell. It was so relaxing. But when it was time for me to leave, I could never remember a single word she had spoken.”
    â€œYou don’t have to tell me. I sat whole nights with her and can’t recall a blessed thing.”
    â€œI think she was a witch,” said Maylee.
    I laughed, but this time she didn’t. “What makes you say that?” I asked.
    â€œWhen I would return home in the afternoon from taking the vegetables to Thanatos, Mother would bless me with a special holy water she kept in a bottle that had the shape of a saint before accepting the three dollars. Then she would take the bills and put them in the icebox for a day before spending them. I think she was afraid of Mrs. Strellop.”
    â€œIf you don’t mind my asking, how is it working for Mother Carushe?” I said, trying to hide behind my cigarette. I thought for a moment I had offended Maylee, but then I realized she was