An icy hot climate protest
A bunch of six friends – not like the famous TV comedy – have been through tough times, and now they can celebrate results. All are in for big cones of gelati, at an award-winning shop. It’s a quiet little street, where they settle under the parasols outside.
When the best flavors have been chosen and paid for, the friends relish their awesome ice cream, until a car is parked half on the sidewalk, close to their seats. No one reacts yet. A woman gets out and enters the shop, while the driver lets the engine run.
The noise is one thing, the exhaust smells are even worse, they mix with the scents and tastes of delicious ice cream in the summer heat.
Flo is raging already. One minute could be bearable, although sixty seconds of this are bad enough. Others are trying to see if the woman has ordered yet, indoors, but there’s quite a line there. People are taking their time to decide about sizes and flavors, to count money and keep little kids under control – or not.
“Do we let the man get away with this?”
Reg is sweating, and for Flo two minutes are the limit. She walks to the driver and talks through his open window, acting very polite indeed. “Sorry, Sir, could you please turn the engine off?”
Reg feels uneasy, because this reminds him of a recent incident, another ‘public social protest’ – that Flo seems to good at. Minny is used to a great deal from her feisty sister Flo, but she puts a hand over her eyes, as if saying: I’m no part of this, we’re not related, I am shy, and Flo shouldn’t do this either.
Flo, however, seems to be ‘inspired’ by previous actions against a mean bikers gang, as if thinking: this is peanuts now.
“Why?” this driver asks with genuine surprise.
“Because we’re trying to have a QUIET nice time here, with FRESH and HEALTHY air.”
“Sure, go ahead,” says the man.
“But obviously the noise and stinking fumes...”
“Hey, don’t you insult my car; this engine makes music!”
“Sir, I’m still mighty polite and cool, thanks to this ice cream, but have you heard about things like the climate and environment?”
Aside, Rino says proudly, “He should see her when she’s all steamed up.”
“Please, no,” Minny whispers, although she agrees with Flo.
The engine stays on and the man closes the window.
“Now that is rude,” says Cat.
And Flo is literally stunned with indignation: she does not shout and bang a fist or kick the car and smash her ice cream on the windshield.
“We’d better get out of here,” Barry says.
“Yeah, sounds boring but safe,” Reg states.
“And who will drag Flo away?”
They know that Flo wouldn’t budge on her own. Other people are watching her too, with admiration? She’s still staring at the man without a word, which is making him nervous. He lowers the window again, lays a broad elbow on it and yells, “What?!”
He’s very close. Flo swallows and steps back an inch, blinking, but she moves bigger inches forward and says, as if to start with a clean slate, “Could you please turn the engine off now?”
Even the man can see that her composure is the top of a volcano.
Rino comes and pulls her away from that window, where the driver cries, “I need the air-conditioning, right?”
Flo knows that the air-co only works when the engine is running, and she spits a bit of lava. “Excuse me and the truth: you mess up the air to keep the car cool? All this time you’ve been spoiling it for us and the environment. You don’t want to be hot, but we don’t want your exhaust fumes!”
Her friends realize they need to leave, to stay safe, and best friend Rino pulls her away as gently as he can.
“Wait,” Flo pleads, “let’s explain, or file a complaint, the man can’t do this, he doesn’t understand; if all engines run like this, the air will be get worse and worse, I’ll take his plate number and...”
Holding on to ice cream with one hand, the bunch grab their bikes with the other and make sure that Flo gets on hers. They ride off while the volcano is smoldering. Which is nothing to do with climate change? That would be the good news.
When the best flavors have been chosen and paid for, the friends relish their awesome ice cream, until a car is parked half on the sidewalk, close to their seats. No one reacts yet. A woman gets out and enters the shop, while the driver lets the engine run.
The noise is one thing, the exhaust smells are even worse, they mix with the scents and tastes of delicious ice cream in the summer heat.
Flo is raging already. One minute could be bearable, although sixty seconds of this are bad enough. Others are trying to see if the woman has ordered yet, indoors, but there’s quite a line there. People are taking their time to decide about sizes and flavors, to count money and keep little kids under control – or not.
“Do we let the man get away with this?”
Reg is sweating, and for Flo two minutes are the limit. She walks to the driver and talks through his open window, acting very polite indeed. “Sorry, Sir, could you please turn the engine off?”
Reg feels uneasy, because this reminds him of a recent incident, another ‘public social protest’ – that Flo seems to good at. Minny is used to a great deal from her feisty sister Flo, but she puts a hand over her eyes, as if saying: I’m no part of this, we’re not related, I am shy, and Flo shouldn’t do this either.
Flo, however, seems to be ‘inspired’ by previous actions against a mean bikers gang, as if thinking: this is peanuts now.
“Why?” this driver asks with genuine surprise.
“Because we’re trying to have a QUIET nice time here, with FRESH and HEALTHY air.”
“Sure, go ahead,” says the man.
“But obviously the noise and stinking fumes...”
“Hey, don’t you insult my car; this engine makes music!”
“Sir, I’m still mighty polite and cool, thanks to this ice cream, but have you heard about things like the climate and environment?”
Aside, Rino says proudly, “He should see her when she’s all steamed up.”
“Please, no,” Minny whispers, although she agrees with Flo.
The engine stays on and the man closes the window.
“Now that is rude,” says Cat.
And Flo is literally stunned with indignation: she does not shout and bang a fist or kick the car and smash her ice cream on the windshield.
“We’d better get out of here,” Barry says.
“Yeah, sounds boring but safe,” Reg states.
“And who will drag Flo away?”
They know that Flo wouldn’t budge on her own. Other people are watching her too, with admiration? She’s still staring at the man without a word, which is making him nervous. He lowers the window again, lays a broad elbow on it and yells, “What?!”
He’s very close. Flo swallows and steps back an inch, blinking, but she moves bigger inches forward and says, as if to start with a clean slate, “Could you please turn the engine off now?”
Even the man can see that her composure is the top of a volcano.
Rino comes and pulls her away from that window, where the driver cries, “I need the air-conditioning, right?”
Flo knows that the air-co only works when the engine is running, and she spits a bit of lava. “Excuse me and the truth: you mess up the air to keep the car cool? All this time you’ve been spoiling it for us and the environment. You don’t want to be hot, but we don’t want your exhaust fumes!”
Her friends realize they need to leave, to stay safe, and best friend Rino pulls her away as gently as he can.
“Wait,” Flo pleads, “let’s explain, or file a complaint, the man can’t do this, he doesn’t understand; if all engines run like this, the air will be get worse and worse, I’ll take his plate number and...”
Holding on to ice cream with one hand, the bunch grab their bikes with the other and make sure that Flo gets on hers. They ride off while the volcano is smoldering. Which is nothing to do with climate change? That would be the good news.
Arno Bohlmeijer is the winner of a PEN America Grant 2021, poet and novelist, writing in English and Dutch, published in six countries – US: Houghton Mifflin, and in Universal Oneness: Anthology of Magnum Opus Poems from around the World. His novel Narrowly will appear in September, about rare social justice and solidarity.
www.arnobohlmeijer.com
www.arnobohlmeijer.com