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It was lunchtime and Horace was sitting alone on the playground, watching his new classmates playing tag. He wanted to join them, he was the best at running, but his dad had warned him that there would be "consequences” if he got his suit dirty again.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Hi, can I sit with you?”
The voice came from another boy, just a little smaller than Horace, with a head full of dark, fluffy hair and a cheerful smile. He was carrying a backpack that was almost the same size as he was.
Horace looked around, as if to check that he was actually the one being asked, before nodding dumbly.
“Oh, um, sure. If you want…”
His new companion didn’t seem put off by the lukewarm reception, dropping his backpack on the ground, and eagerly hopping up onto the bench, before sticking his hand out towards Horace.
“My dad says you should always shake hands when introducing yourself to someone.”, he announced. “I’m Biscotti Gusto, what's your name?”
“That’s a cool name”, Horace mumbled, shyly taking the offered hand. “I’m Horace.”
Biscotti’s smile seemed to get even brighter at Horace’s words.
“Hey, you want some candy? My dad made a whooole bunch and said I could share it with anyone I wanted.”
“Sure! I mean, yes please.” Horace nodded with excitement. Candy was a very rare treat at his house.
Biscotti pulled his bag onto his lap, and unzipped it to reveal more sweets than Horace had ever seen in one place.”
“Hmmmm, do you want a chicken or a seahorse?” Biscotti asked.
“Huh? What do you mean? Are those the flavours?”, candy was candy but even so Horace couldn’t imagine meat flavoured desserts would be tasty.
Biscotti gave him a confused look, before breaking out into a fit of giggles.
“No, that's just what they’re shaped like!”, he laughed. “...well actually, my dad said they’re supposed to be phoenixes and dragons, but I think they look more like chickens and seahorses.”, he clarified pulling two sculpted candy-pop’s out for Horace to see.
“I’ll have a seahorse.” Horace said after a moment of deliberation, “please”, he hastily added.
Biscotti handed Horace the treat, before biting into his own candy. Rather than follow his example, Horace nibbled his slowly, trying his best to savour the sweet flavor.
“Is it okay? Do you like it?” asked Biscotti, who had already finished his own candy and was wiping his hands on his suit trousers.
“Yeah! It’s good!” Horace assured. “It tastes like strawberries”.
“Thanks! I’ll tell my dad you liked it. I helped him with the flavouring!”, he said proudly. “He’s training to be a desert chef, like Mister Tangaroa from Bake N’ Bop!”
“What’s Bake N’ Bop?”
Biscotti then excitedly told Horace that it was his favorite show, about how fun the hosts were, that there were songs and skits, that his dad followed all the recipes and would be famous too someday, and that Horace should come over to his house so they could watch it together.
Horace listened, awestruck. Biscotti’s dad sounded like the coolest person in the world. The conversation then turned to what other things they could do at Biscotti’s place. Horace told him all about his Global Hero Onyankopon comics, promising to bring them in tomorrow, and how he’d heard that there was a cartoon version coming soon.
The bell eventually rang, but going back to class didn’t seem as daunting now. The main activity for the afternoon was drawing and colouring, the teacher cheerfully telling the students that they could draw anything they wanted and show it to their parents at the end of the day.
Most of the children were more than happy to take on the task, Horace wasn’t so enthusiastic. He wasn’t very good at art, not like his dad, the shapes and lines he put to paper never looked as good as the image he’d built up in his head.
He looked over at Biscotti’s side of the desk, he’d already drawn a small circus parade of animals, but he seemed to be taking a moment to think about his next piece. Horace tapped him on the shoulder.
“Your drawings are really good, could-, um would it be okay if I copy one? I don't know what to draw…”
Biscotti looked over at Horace’s still blank page, and shrugged. “Sure, you can use any of them.”, he said, gesturing to his collection of colourful animals. “How come though? There’s gotta be something cool you can draw.”
Horace shrugged back, no matter what he came up with, his dad probably wouldn’t like it and he couldn’t think of anyone else who would want a picture made by him.
He decided on a horse, trying carefully to follow Scotti’s drawing. The lines came out wobbly and the face was a little too long, but it wasn’t a bad attempt at a copy.
He could show that one to his dad.
He then began to pick up his pencils and try something more original, taking inspiration from what was right in front of him. A little boy, with rosy plump cheeks and dark hair, surrounded by different candies and cakes of all kinds.
“Is that ment to be me?” Asked Scotti, looking over Horace’s shoulder with open curiosity.
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
He nodded. “Yeah! Can I have it? I’ll trade you one of my pictures.”
“Deal!” Picking out a random drawing from the pile on their desk. He didn’t really care which one.
“Cool. I look really good with all the cakes and stuff. You’re good at drawing too.” Scotti added, returning back to his own pictures.
Horace’s face broke out into a big smile.
The rest of the day passed by far too quickly. It was almost a disappointment when the bell rang. Parents started to gather outside the building with their children. Lining up to get their commemorative “first day photos” taken.
Horace saw his own father standing in the line awkwardly, while a burly man in a bright red chef’s suit, that Scotti excitedly pointed out as his own father, chatted to him animatedly. He knew his dad didn’t like making small talk with people, unless they were a client, but Scotti’s dad didn’t seem to mind the one-sided conversation.
After the photographer finished taking pictures of their little group, Horace saw the pinch at his father’s brow relax, finally seeing his opportunity to leave.
“Come on, Horace. Let’s get going.” His dad stated, already hustling him towards the car park by his arm.
“Wait. Can I say goodbye to Scotti first?” Horace whined, wiggling away from his dad’s grip.
“You’ll see him tomorrow.” He hissed back. “Now, come on.”
He began to walk Horace off with him, only to be interrupted by Scotti, running towards them and throwing his arms around Horace, his own father slowly following behind.
“Bye, Horace! It was nice meeting you! Can we sit together again tomorrow?”
Horace nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It was nice meeting you too, Scotti.”
A deep, full chested laugh came from the man behind them.
“Well now, it seems our boys are becoming fast friends!” Scotti’s dad exclaimed, resting a large hand down on his son’s shoulder, while looking at Horace’s own father.
“Carmelo Gusto. Aspiring pastry chef and the father of this little one here.” He said, giving Scotti’s shoulder a squeeze. “Perhaps we could arrange a play date of sorts, if you’re willing Mister…?”
“Frost. Artie Frost.” His father gave a terse smile and Horace knew it was a no. “I’m afraid that’s not the best idea right now. I work from home, and have a lot of very delicate work on display.”
Scotti didn’t seem to be deterred by this answer. “But Horace can still come over to our house though, right dad?”
Mr Gusto shrugged. “I see no reason as to why not.”
“Very well”, sighed his father, “but we’ll have to discuss the details another time. I’m waiting for a very important phone call at home. Now let’s get going, Horace.”
As Horace felt the cold, tight grip of his father’s hand, pulling him towards the car, he looked back at Scotti, who waved enthusiastically before turning back towards his own father. Horace could hear him telling his dad that everyone had loved the candy they made together.
From the back of the car, while his father grumbled under his breath, Horace saw Mr Gusto lift Scotti up onto his shoulder, carrying him off in the other direction. The sight gave him a strange ache in his chest.
He wished his dad was as cool and kind as Mr Gusto…