Ice Cream Social Friday (3 Oct 2001) Tom and Agatha are guests at the Winters Residence.

Winters Residence
In the northwest part of town, on the corner of Frost and Baum, an old Victorian-era house -- painted in muted hues of green -- overlooks the intersection. A broad deck/porch crosses both the front of the house and a portion of one side, where a short gravel drive leads up to a white-slatted one-car garage with a fold-up door (the residence of the family's nondescript brown station wagon). The covered front porch sports, hanging from chains, a long wooden swing chair capable of comfortably seating two adults (or more children). Large windows face the street, though obscured by lace curtains, and taller and narrower windows look down from the eaves of the upper floor. Moderately trimmed hedges border the yard just shy of the sidewalk, a row of trees hems in the back, and the yard itself inclines upward at a shallow angle toward the porch.

Sabrina was the one to deliver the invitation to come over for some home-made ice cream for dessert, although purportedly this "ice cream social" was Maximillan's idea. Although the Winters have attended Church of the Redeemer for years, and Mrs. Winters helps with the Sunday School and other children's programs, no kid at the church has seen the inside of the Winters residence -- perhaps primarily because John and Loren Winters have no children of their own.

Another reason could be because the house is not all that particularly inviting. As one enters the front door into the cramped foyer just off the gravel drive and at one end of the outer deck as it comes around to the side of the house, one gets a sense of "don't touch" from all the breakable knickknacks positioned about the house. Steep and narrow stairs lead up, a narrow doorway squeezed to one side leads to the master bedroom, a tall doorway leads past a pedestal with a fragile-looking vase into the high-ceilinged living room, and a broader doorway leads off to a large dining room -- a room that is rarely used, one might suppose, given that everything is covered with sheets, or locked away in cabinets.

Rather, it's the sizeable kitchen where ice cream is served, and it seems to be an oasis apart from the solemn-faced portraits, fragile porcelains and other untouchables that somehow have an air of being dusty and old even when they're kept spotlessly clean. The kitchen, by sharp contrast, is brightly lit, with tall, curtain-free windows, a weather door leading off to a second porch, a dining area with a smaller table to the side with child-sized chairs, and the kitchen itself, smelling of cinnamon and spices, fresh-baked bread and cheese and many other things, all palatable.

It is perhaps a hint of this house's true age, that the kitchen is apart from the rest of the house, with the small dining area filling what was once a breezeway between kitchen and home, and an old cast-iron stove sitting in the corner of the kitchen. The stove has long since been supplanted by more modern conveniences, but it still remains in place, a vestigial fixture that somehow manages to add to the anachronistic atmosphere of the place. (What was once some sort of store room or pantry adjoining the kitchen out back has since been converted into a nicely-appointed home office for Mr. Winters.)

Tom walks in slowly, gazing about at all the unusual and "don't touch" items. Today he's even made an attempt at looking respectable, dressing in a buttoned shirt and slacks instead of his usual jeans and tee-shirt. Even his hair has been combed back and for the moment, is actually behaving. "This place reminds me of a museum, kinda," he says as he makes his way further into the kitchen.

"Hiiiiii!" Sabrina calls out, announcing her presence loudly as she comes quickly into the room, barely short of running.

Tom starts at the sudden entrance. "Geez, are you always so loud?" he asks.

"Not when Uncle John is taking his nap," Sabrina claims. "Is the ice cream ready?"

"Yes," Mrs. Winters says, smiling down at Sabrina. She's a pleasant woman, her hair red (a popular color in these parts, it seems) and tied back in a bun, and a very plain face. (She looks very different here than when she is in church, as it seems she doesn't wear makeup except when dressing up in Sunday best.) She gets out some glass ice cream bowls and pulls a scoop out of a small jar of warm water.

"So ... How have things been?" Tom asks, rocking back and forth onto his toes, then heels. "I hope everything has been good," he adds.

The door to Mr. Winter's office opens, and Maximillan hobbles through, pausing to hold the door open for a red-haired girl wearing a green skirt and a gray blouse. "... so this way he can take care of his business without having to head into the office all the time," Maximillan says.

"Wow," Agatha says in quiet wonder. "I've never seen a room with two telephones before. He must be a very busy man." Noticing Thomas, she smiles and gives a little wave.

"Well, one is a house telephone -- the other one is for business," Maximillan explains.

A grin creeps across Tom face. "Giving your girlfriend a tour, Max?" Tom asks, then breaks into laughing. He does, however, make his way over to stand behind a chair in case the "girlfriend" tries to kick him.

"They both ring differently, so he can tell whi--" Maximillan breaks off at Tom's goad, then says, "Hello, Thomas."

Tom waves back and replies, "Hey, Max."

For her part, Agatha simply gives Thomas a "warning" look.

Tom just grins back at Agatha.

Mrs. Winters comes back into the dining area with a tray, setting down glass ice cream dishes with rippled sides -- giving them the impression of having been "twisted" and etched with some decorative patterns. "Sabrina has made you all some home-made ice cream," she announces (though to all appearances, it sure looked as if Mrs. Winters was doing any work to be seen).

She then brings over a wooden pail with slatted sides, bound together like some sort of old-fashioned bucket, though the interior sports metal lining and a layer of crushed ice between the metal inner container and the outer wooden shell. (One might at first get the impression that the bucket contained a year's supply of ice cream -- if it didn't melt first -- but a great deal of the mass is taken up by "insulation".) It's vanilla, judging from a glance -- the kind with the tiny little flecks of vanilla bean in it.

Agatha takes her seat at the table, and grins at the layout and the ice-cream maker. "That must have been a lot of work, to crank the handle for so long. It looks delicious!"

"Really? Cool." Tom moves back around the chair and sits down in it for a moment. He tilts his head and inspects the ice-cream. "Whoa, looks good!" Tom declares.

In short order, the four kids are seated at the table, and Mrs. Winters has scooped out generous servings of ice cream for each of them. Small glass bowls hold an assortment of toppings -- coconut shavings, heated chocolate and caramel syrups, banana slices, crushed candy bits, color sprinkles, and so forth. Sabrina seems to be a fan of the color sprinkles. Maximillan seems inclined to enjoy his ice cream plain.

"Well, you just help yourselves," Mrs. Winters says, as if the kids needed any encouragement. "I'll be about, if you need anything."

Agatha helps herself to some of the bananas, and makes an effort not to slouch in her chair. "This is great. Do you do have socials like this often, Maximillan?" she asks.

"No," Maximillan says. "But we got word from Mother and Father. They'll be returning soon."

Sabrina says, "We'll sure miss you! We'll be going back to the city."

Tom looks over the assortment of toppings and hmms. Following Max's example, Tom decides he'll just eat his plain and picks up a spoon and draws his bowl close. "Has anything interesting happened to you two, recently?" Tom asks Max and Sabrina. "We'll miss you two, too," Tom then responds to Sabrina, "I hope you'll be able to come back often."

Opening her mouth to say something, Agatha suddenly squeaks and leans back to look under the table. "Is that you down there, Bragwaine?"

"Meow!" says Bragwaine.

Sabrina nods cheerily, but Maximillan says, shortly, "That's not likely."

"Well, that's no good," Tom replies. "I'll have to ask my parents if you can come stay with us sometime, maybe."

Agatha sneaks an ice-cream covered fingertip down to the cat, and asks, "Not even during summers?"

Maximillan says, "It's ... family matters." He frowns as he toys with the spoon in his hand, then scoops up a spoonful and downs it. "Nice ice cream, Sabrina," he says with little enthusiasm.

"Why, thank you!" Sabrina says with a giggle, seemingly oblivious to Maximillan's typically dour demeanor.

Tom drags his spoon over the scoops of ice-cream, gathering up the partially melted parts. He promptly eats it and mmms softly, "Now, that's good vanilla. At least as good as a Foxworthy shake."

Agatha, meanwhile, feels the raspy touch of a cat's tongue on her finger. The cat obviously approves.

Maximillan's frown cracks slightly. Maybe this is his version of a smile. Before there's more of a chance to examine this phenomenon, he says, "You mentioned wanting to do something to repay us for the trouble we went to on the quest."

Agatha adds a modest amount of chocolate to her sundae, and says, "Sure! Anything you'd like in particular?"

Tom nods in agreement. "Name it."

"I had hoped to put together another quest," Maximillan says, "something worthy of the Fisher King. I acquired some props from the church -- goblets used in the 'Last Supper' scene. So, you might say, I have a Holy Grail."

"Yeah, I remember Mr. Winters getting those the day Agatha and I were helping clean," Tom comments. "You have something in mind for them?"

Agatha grins at this. "Now that would be a quest!" she comments after finishing off a spoonful of ice cream.

Tom takes another large spoonful of ice-cream, listening. He can't resist "mmm"-ing, though, after he swallows it.

Maximillan nods. "I had originally planned to have it be a quest for the two of you, but I do not know how much time I have left, and I could use some help. I was thinking that perhaps one of your friends could be the one to undertake the quest -- perhaps someone who doesn't often get to be a hero, and who could settle into the role of a knight questing for the Holy Grail. As Agatha has shown, it doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl."

"You mean like Simon or Alice?" Agatha asks, figuring those two fit the bill as far as innocence goes for such a quest.

Tom nods. "Well, there's Alice, Simon, and Elinor, I can think of off the top of my head," Tom says. "Not sure if Alice would want the role, but I'm sure Simon or Elinor could do it. What do you think, Agatha? And why are you leaving out Elinor?" Tom asks.

Maximillan nods. "If you think any of them would be suitable for the role. I don't know what you all play in your games -- I had only gathered that Tom played an explorer, and Agatha a knight, and Alice some sort of fairy princess with a pet unicorn."

Tom grins. "Simon is a jester, and Elinor, an oracle."

"Uh, I guess I didn't think she'd be interested," Agatha admits. "We've only played with Elinor once really, and she was sort of an oracle, but I'm not sure what role she'd really like to play."

"Well," Sabrina says, "someone could play a knight just once, for a change! I play different things all the time!" She grins widely. "I'm not always a cat."

Maximillan nods. "She's only been a cat since we found both of those pendants in the garage sale."

"Just always silly?" Tom asks, grinning.

"What other parts have you played?" Agatha asks Sabrina with a grin.

Sabrina says, "Wellll ... I've been the President of the United States, and Maximillan was my Secretary of State...." She rattles off a long list of titles, most of them fairly ambitious, demonstrating that she's not wholly restricted to "fantasy" themes.

Tom eats more of his ice-cream as Sabrina rattles through her roles. When she reaches the end, he says, "Well, I think any of them could play the role, really. Do you want us to ask them?"

"Whatever you think is best," Maximillan says. "I could use some help on the details of the quest. I can come up with costumes and props fairly easily, but I haven't had time to devote to coming up with some proper challenges for the knight to seek the Holy Grail."

"I guess the challenges would have to be fitted to the person?" Agatha asks, before downing another bit of sundae. "We'd need to find someone first then."

The bespectacled boy nods in agreement. "I like a challenge, but it would not be fair to, say, ask Knight Redmane to answer questions about surviving in the wilderness, or expect Fairy Princess Alice to fight a dragon."

Tom nods. "Yeah. In some respects. Though, if it's to be a knight quest, that does give us some place to start."

Sabrina says, "If it's the Holy Grail, it shouldn't just be about fighting. It should be about whether you're a good person. You know -- because it's holy."

"Spiritual tests," Agatha agrees, nodding.

"Not sure how good I'd be at coming up with things like that," Tom admits.

Sabrina munches thoughtfully on some candy sprinkles and ice cream. "Mmph. How about ... a test of mercy?"

Tom grins. "Well, Alice could pass something like that easily."

Agatha nods again. "Tests of chivalry, maybe?"

Maximillan says, "A challenge needn't be overly hard ... but it needs to seem difficult, at the very least. Otherwise, there's no accomplishment in overcoming it."

"A test of self-control, to overcome their fear would be good I think," Agatha suggests.

Sabrina says, "Well, you could have that puzzle with the two people who you have to ask which way to go, and one is lying and the other is telling the truth."

Maximillan says, "We could reuse that, but that has nothing to do with a spiritual test."

Sabrina pouts. "I'm just trying to come up with ideas."

Maximillan says, "I can think on some ideas. Maybe first we need to find out if we even have a knight -- or a suitable proxy -- to undertake the quest."

Tom suggests, "Have the 'testee' have to possibly help someone seriously sick, perhaps? I remember reading leprosy was a nasty disease back then. Or perhaps learn not to judge by appearances in some way? Have some hideous 'monster' actually be good?"

Maximillan nods. "That sounds good. It doesn't have to be overly devious. A good test for a knight should be if an undesirable 'opponent' shows up -- does the knight make certain this is really his enemy, or does he attack first?"

Sabrina ponders, "Maybe if it was someone with the measles...."

Tom nods to Max, "Something like that, yeah."

Agatha closes her eyes as she runs through the codes of chivalry that she has remembered. "Never use a weapon on an opponent not equal to the attack, never attack from behind, protect the innocent, exhibit self control, respect women, defend the weak, always keep your word of honor, always be loyal to your friends and those who lay their trust in you," she recites.

Sabrina says, "Better make sure the knight knows all those rules, too."

Tom hmms. "Have a small bag of money get dropped by say, a beggar, and see if the knight returns it?"

Sabrina giggles. "Max's got lots of those chocolate coins left over!"

Tom grins. "Yum!"

Agatha looks up and says, "Those are just a few of the rules. There are lots."

Maximillan nods. "I think we have a good starting point. Perhaps we should finish our ice cream before it melts. If you could find us a knightly candidate ... I will make certain we have some suitable props handy, and perhaps come up with a few more tests."

Sabrina, for her part, grabs another helping of sprinkles to dump on what's left of her ice cream.

Tom shrugs. "Half-melted ice-cream is good." He grins and starts to work quickly on his bowl of ice-cream.

Agatha finishes her bowl off quickly as well. There's nothing in the Chivalric Code about ice-cream headaches, after all.

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