“Hello, Linda,” said Barry, mustering all of the cold dignity he could with a lopsided head. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Didn’t you?” Linda tilted on its wooden stick, a sneer of berry parts in its facial area. “Barry didn’t think it would see us here,” Linda called over its rounded shoulder to the small orange pair behind it, the two of them joined down the middle and hopping from stick to stick, giggling manically.
“HA HA HA,” said the one on the right.
“HEE HEE HEE,” said the one on the left.
“What the hell?” said Iris, her pimento eyes glowing under furrowed brows.
“My thoughts exactly,” Jane said. “Going to introduce us to your friends, Barry?”
“They’re not my friends.” Shooting a look as sharp as icicles, Barry hopped its way down the snow-covered path. The popsicles followed, Linda skating on the edge of its stick, right, then left, then right again; the connected pair wobbling from stick to stick.
“We’re not his friends,” the twins mocked in unison.
“What is your deal?” said Iris.
“I don’t care. I just want to get out of this place and back home.” Jane headed down the path behind them, the snow, in drifts, coming up nearly to her knees. It was soft, though, and light, lighter than any snow she’d seen before.
“Our deal?” Linda said. “Want to tell them our deal?”
“Not really,” Barry said, its attempt at ignoring them not working very well.
“Are you embarrassed of your little creamsicles?”
Everyone stopped exactly where they were, except for Barry, who, hop as he might, couldn’t get much distance.
“Your what?” said Jane.
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