The Drug Store

Appeased with a coupon for a free ice cream,
a reward from the dentist for a good check-up,
no cavities, or maybe for bravery, having that cavity
filled or the tooth pulled, a battle lost,
we filed into Hallet’s, the only drug store in town,
then. We wound our way through display cabinets,
various sundries stocked and shelved, and the glass-top 
display tables with the little round swing out seats
that served no purpose, best we could tell, 
than to amuse us as we ate our ice cream, 
home-made, Hallet’s-made, vanilla and chocolate, 
strawberry or coffee, while our mothers shopped, 
filled their prescriptions of little pills 
and potions, unguents we’d been warned never to touch,
or feared them as beneficial for our own good health.
The foul taste of medicine was reason enough not 
to feign sickness, feigning health instead, 
though unsuccessful at it, caught by mothers trained 
in childhood disease and ruse detection, a warm hand
pressed to our foreheads, a stroking of our hair,
the guilt trip laid upon us, or the medicine bottle
within easy reach, liquid poured into a spoon.

Time passes, as time does, the ice cream rewards
disappearing, reserved perhaps for younger children, 
and Hallet’s moved across the street, modernized, roomier, 
but the ice cream remained the same, home-made, Hallet’s-
made, vanilla and chocolate, strawberry or coffee, 
and the ice cream sodas and shakes, too, sundaes and banana 
splits, chocolate sauce or caramel, whipped cream, nuts, 
and a cherry, and I, at 17, was in charge, scooping 
and dishing, the creator of ice cream concoctions,
a little extra for my friends, and all that I could
eat in a four-hour shift on a slow night after school,
back before there were calories and my weight wasn’t
a concern, not an issue, youth before old age slowed
me down, changed my habits, changed my tastes, 
changed me. 

Hallet’s is gone now, time moving forward
towards its end, leaving behind memories to move us forward, 
a coupon to redeem, a free ice cream for a good checkup, 
no cavities, bravery for a pulled tooth,
or a hot fudge sundae, shared with a friend, holding hands.