The Amazing Adventures of Ice Boy
“I’m going to need a new pair of shoes,” said the boy. “And some clothes.”
He looked down at his bare feet, then up again, and saw that he was standing in front of an old-fashioned shoe store with wooden floors covered by thick rugs. The shop’s windows were filled with rows upon rows of shiny leather boots and sandals for men or women—all sizes available from toddler all the way through adult. There wasn’t much else inside except racks full of socks, stockings (including garter belts), gloves, hats, scarves…and more pairs of shoes than you could shake a stick at!
It made him dizzy just looking around; there must have been thousands of different styles on display here. And they weren’t cheap either: most cost between ten dollars and twenty bucks apiece. But if this is what I want, it’ll be worth every penny!”
He turned back toward the door but stopped when someone spoke behind him. A tall man stood beside one of those long counters where clerks would sit ringing up customers’ purchases while waiting for their turn to sell them something else.
His hair had gone completely white since the last time he’d seen him, which hadn’t even happened yet during his previous life as a human being. In fact, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone who appeared older than himself before.
This guy definitely qualified. Yet despite how ancient he seemed, he didn’t look like any kind of wizard or sorcerer. No pointy hat or pointed beard anywhere near his face. Just plain old jeans and work shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders. Still, he knew right away that this was no ordinary shoemaker.
Something told him not only did he know exactly why the kid needed new footwear so badly, but also precisely what sort of things might help make sure these dreams actually came true. So he stepped out into the aisle next to the counter and waited patiently until the young fellow finally noticed him. Then he smiled warmly, held both hands open wide, and introduced himself.
“My name’s Mr. Johnson,” he began. “Welcome to my little shop. What can I do for ya?”
Ice Boy took a deep breath and tried hard to think clearly. How should he answer? Shouldn’t he ask first whether or not this place really existed outside his own imagination? After all, maybe none of this stuff belonged to anybody other than him anyway.
Maybe everything in the world was simply part of his mind after all. That wouldn’t necessarily mean anything bad though. If nothing else, it meant nobody owned anything anymore because everyone already possessed whatever they wanted whenever they felt like having it.
Which sounded pretty good to him. Especially considering the way people treated each other nowadays. They never bothered trying very hard to get along with others unless absolutely necessary. Most folks preferred to keep to themselves instead.
Even family members often chose to live apart rather than spend too much time together under normal circumstances. Why bother getting close enough to somebody else to share your deepest feelings when you could always go somewhere private yourself anytime you liked?
Besides, everybody got lonely sometimes, especially kids. Nobody understood that better than Ice Boy. For years now, he’d spent almost half of every day alone. Sometimes he wished he could find another person to talk to besides Mommy or Daddy, but she usually went shopping without him, and daddy worked late nights at the factory.
As far as friends were concerned, well…he didn’t seem able to make many real ones lately. Not since he started growing taller and bigger faster than most boys his age. Everyone kept telling him he was special, but somehow he doubted they truly believed it. At least not the same way he did.
So what should he say to this nice man named Mr. Johnson? Was he supposed to tell him he dreamed of owning lots of cool new shoes someday soon? Or perhaps he ought to mention wanting to become famous among his peers? Would that satisfy him? Did he care about such trivial matters?
Didn’t matter. All that mattered was making sure he found the perfect pair of shoes for tonight’s big show. One thing was certain: he certainly hoped Mr. Johnson could provide him with the exact type of footwear he desired. Otherwise, he’d probably end up disappointed once again.
He’d done plenty of disappointing over the past few months, and he hated feeling let down. More importantly, he feared disappointment might lead him straight back home to bed. Wherever that may be.
Mr. Johnson watched the boy carefully as he struggled to figure out how best to proceed. Finally, he decided to take a chance. “You’re gonna need ’em fast, aren’tcha?” he asked. “I’ve still gotta finish makin’ em myself.”
The child nodded eagerly. “Yes sir! Right away please!”
“Well, okay then…” The shoemaker reached beneath the counter and pulled forth two pairs of black dress shoes. Both fit perfectly. “Here yer is,” he said. “Take ’em an’ run on outta here. Don’t worry; we’ll have more ready by tomorrow night iffen ya want me to make some changes later. But don’t wait around too long. You wanna catch her act, right?”
“Oh yes sir! Thank you very much indeed!”
With that, the youngster practically skipped from the store. Once inside the alleyway between buildings, he glanced quickly left and right, just to make sure there wasn’t anyone watching. Satisfied that he was safe, he hurried across the street toward the theater where the girl would perform shortly.
It looked like it was going to rain, so he ducked behind one of the nearby dumpsters to avoid getting wet while waiting for the performance to begin. By the time he made his way through the crowd gathered outside, however, he realized something strange was happening.
People weren’t rushing forward to enter the building ahead of him quite as rapidly as usual either. Instead, they stood quietly chatting amongst themselves. Some even seemed reluctant to move any closer to the entrance. Curious, Ice Boy stepped into the doorway himself.
Inside, he saw several men standing near the stage door talking animatedly. None of them appeared particularly upset or frightened. In fact, their expressions suggested they were enjoying themselves immensely. When Ice Boy approached, they turned to face him expectantly. Before he had a chance to speak, however, someone called out loudly.
“Hey kid! Ya lookin’ fer somethin’? We ain’t open yet, ya know.” A tall, thin gentleman wearing a dark suit emerged from the group. His hairline receded sharply downward until only a narrow strip remained above the top of his head.
Despite its apparent length, the rest of his scalp showed no signs whatsoever of being bald. Rather, it resembled a thick mat of tightly curled grayish-brown fur. The stranger wore glasses that magnified both eyes significantly.
From the looks of things, he must also possess unusually large ears and nostrils. And judging by his voice—which carried easily throughout the entire room despite its unusual timbre—the fellow possessed a remarkably powerful set of lungs as well.
Ice Boy stared in amazement. This guy couldn’t possibly be human, could he? How come nobody ever mentioned anything about him before? What kind of creature was he anyway? Hadn’t anybody seen him anywhere else recently? If not, why hadn’t he been reported missing?
Maybe he really was dead after all. That wouldn’t surprise him at all. After all, who knew how old he actually was? Could it be possible that people simply assumed he’d died because he lived forever? Well, maybe he did die sometimes…but only when he wanted to.
Who cared whether he stayed alive or didn’t stay alive anymore? Nobody but him, apparently. Still, he wondered what sort of person would go around claiming to live forever without having proof to support such claims. Why bother lying about stuff like that unless you truly believed your own lies, huh?
He shook off these thoughts and focused instead on the individual now approaching him. “Uh, yeah I am looking for something,” he replied hesitantly. He felt strangely intimidated by this man’s size alone.
Even though most humans probably weighed less than half as much again as he did, somehow he always managed to appear larger whenever he walked past. As far as Ice Boy was concerned, the stranger exuded an aura of power, unlike anything he’d encountered since leaving home.
Yet another reason to keep quiet and let others do the talking. Besides, he suspected that whatever questions he might ask would never get answered anyway. Not with somebody like this present. Sooner or later, everybody ended up saying exactly what he thought needed to be said. No matter how hard they tried otherwise.
As soon as the newcomer came within earshot, he spoke once more. “What can I help ya find?”
“Um, my friend told me she was performing tonight, so—”
“She is.”
“—and I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me where I should go to see her show?”
“Sure thing. Just follow me.” With that, the stranger began walking down the hall leading back toward the main auditorium. At first glance, Ice Boy noticed nothing remarkable about the place other than its sheer immensity.
But then, he supposed that shouldn’t have surprised him considering everything else he’d already witnessed during his brief life on Earth. However, he still found himself staring wide-eyed at some of the sights along the way.
For example, there was a huge chandelier hanging directly overhead. Its intricate design consisted of hundreds of tiny crystals dangling from dozens of metal rods. Each crystal sparkled brightly under the light cast by countless candles burning atop each rod.
On the second inspection, Ice Boy discovered that the whole structure was suspended from the ceiling by means of numerous chains. Apparently, the chain system extended all the way to the floor below. Then, too, he spotted a number of paintings decorating the walls.
Most depicted scenes depict various individuals engaged in activities ranging from dancing to playing musical instruments. Others portrayed landscapes filled with mountains, rivers, forests, fields, and lakes. All were painted using oils rather than watercolors, although many featured subtle hues similar to those used in traditional Japanese art.
In fact, one painting even included several figures dressed in kimonos standing beneath cherry trees laden with blossoms. Another scene displayed three men seated behind a table while two women stood beside them holding hands. One woman had long black hair; the other appeared to be Asian.
Both wore white robes adorned with red sashes tied across their chests. They seemed quite happy together, smiling happily at whoever happened to be watching. It occurred to Ice Boy that he wasn’t sure whether any of these pictures represented actual events or merely artistic interpretations based upon real ones.
Either way, however, none of the images looked particularly realistic. Instead, they resembled works created solely for aesthetic purposes—which made sense given the nature of the building itself. The overall effect reminded him somewhat of ancient Greek temples built centuries earlier.
Only here, do the buildings themselves serve as the canvas for the artwork. And yet, despite the similarities between both structures, he sensed no connection whatsoever. Perhaps the Greeks just liked big things better than we do. Or maybe they’re smarter. Whatever the case may be, it certainly doesn’t seem fair. We’ve got bigger brains than they do, don’t we?
The stranger led him through a series of large double doors into the theater proper. There, he saw rows of seats arranged in front of a stage surrounded by curtains hung high above. A few minutes passed before the lights dimmed completely.
Moments later, the curtain rose to reveal a single figure sitting cross-legged on top of a small platform situated near the center of the room. She sat motionless, seemingly oblivious to the audience gathered nearby. Her face remained hidden throughout the entire performance.
Although Ice Boy couldn’t make out details due to the darkness, he recognized her immediately because of the distinctive hairstyle she favored: short strands cut straight across the forehead. This style usually gave her head the appearance of being bald except for a pair of thin strips extending upward over either side of her skull.
From time to time, she also sported bangs that fell slightly forward onto her cheeks. These features combined to create an illusion suggesting that her eyes were perpetually closed. Nevertheless, Ice Boy knew full well that such appearances were deceiving.
After all, the only person who ever really knows someone else’s true feelings is the very same individual herself. Which meant that anyone trying to guess what she might think or feel simply didn’t know enough about her.
After waiting patiently for nearly twenty seconds, the girl finally opened her mouth and started singing. Despite having heard thousands of songs performed live onstage during his lifetime, Ice Boy instantly realized that this particular voice was unique among all others.
He listened intently until the song ended, but when it did, he continued listening anyway. Why not? What difference does it make now that I’m dead? Besides, he figured he deserved another chance to hear something new after spending most of his existence trapped inside a coffin.
As far as he was concerned, every moment spent alive was precious. So why waste any of them doing anything less important than enjoying music played by a beautiful young lady whose name he never learned?
A minute or so later, the singer finished up and stepped offstage. Several moments went by without further activity. Then, suddenly, the lights came back on. When they did, everyone present applauded enthusiastically. Some people clapped loudly; others spoke excitedly.
Yet again, though, nobody paid much attention to Ice Boy. Not surprising since he hadn’t been invited to attend in the first place. Still, he felt compelled to applaud politely regardless. That said, he kept his applause muted compared to everybody else’s.
After all, if you want to get ahead in life, it helps to keep your reputation intact. Otherwise, sooner or later somebody will find some reason to dislike you. If there are no rules against it, then go right ahead! Just remember that once you start breaking them, more often than not, everything starts going downhill fast.
When the crowd quieted down, the man introduced himself as Mr. Toshiaki. “I’d like to thank our guest performer,” he explained, gesturing toward the girl still seated on the stage. “Her name is Yuki.” At least, that’s how Ice Boy remembered hearing the word pronounced.
But he could have misheard. Maybe it should actually be spelled yu-kee. Who can say? All the same, he assumed that the correct pronunciation would eventually become obvious. For example, perhaps the words wouldn’t sound exactly alike.
Rather, they might resemble each other closely enough to suggest that they belonged to the same language family. Of course, he doubted that anybody involved with the show intended to confuse matters deliberately. On the contrary, they probably wanted nothing more than to avoid causing offense where possible.
In fact, they must surely realize that their efforts aren’t likely to succeed. Because even if the two names sounded similar, the chances were good that many listeners would assume otherwise. After all, Japanese speakers tend to pronounce certain sounds differently from those used elsewhere around the world.
Consequently, foreigners unfamiliar with the local dialect sometimes struggle to understand native speakers. Even worse, they frequently end up making mistakes whenever attempting to speak the language properly. Such errors typically result in misunderstandings which lead to awkward situations.
Fortunately, most people learn quickly enough to overcome such problems. Unfortunately, however, plenty doesn’t. And that means that at times, things can turn ugly rather rapidly.
Mr. Toshiaki paused briefly while gathering his thoughts. The silence lasted several long seconds before he resumed speaking. “As you may already know, we’re currently celebrating the one-hundredth anniversary of the founding of Japan’s modern era.
To mark this occasion, my company has organized a special event featuring performances by both established artists and promising newcomers. Our goal here today is simple: to provide audiences with an opportunity to experience firsthand the best that contemporary entertainment culture offers.
We hope that you’ll enjoy yourselves thoroughly!” With these final remarks, he turned away and walked backstage. A few minutes passed before he reappeared carrying a microphone. Once he had settled into position behind the podium, he began addressing the audience directly. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Miss Yuki Kudou!”
The lights dimmed. Moments later, the curtains parted. Standing center stage, the girl appeared wearing an outfit consisting of black pants and a jacket along with matching boots. She wore her hair pulled tightly back beneath a white hat. Her makeup consisted primarily of dark lipstick.
It matched perfectly the shade she applied to her lips. This made sense given what Ice Boy knew about fashion trends in Tokyo. Apparently, women who lived there tended to favor bright colors over subtle shades. They also liked bold designs instead of plain ones.
Given the way Yuki looked tonight, he couldn’t help wondering whether anyone ever told her that she shouldn’t wear red unless she planned to perform onstage. Or maybe someone did tell her—and yet failed to explain why. He didn’t see any harm in doing so.
After all, when it comes to clothing choices, every woman needs to make decisions for herself. As far as Ice Boy was concerned, it wasn’t really fair to expect him to take responsibility for whatever happened next. Besides, he never claimed to be perfect.
Sooner or later, something always goes wrong. No matter how hard I try, it seems inevitable. Why do you think I’m constantly looking out for ways to improve myself? Anyway, let me ask you now: What does it mean to look beautiful anyway? Is it simply having nice skin, pretty eyes, or smooth cheeks?
Does beauty come only from within, meaning that inner qualities determine outer appearances? Are physical features merely superficial aspects of personality? Do men judge girls based solely on appearance alone, ignoring anything else that makes them attractive?
These questions seem important to consider. But unfortunately, they remain unanswered because nobody knows the answers. Perhaps someday we’ll discover them together…
The End