Secret Ingredient

"This is incredible."

"Tell me more."

"The way the cream melds into the strawberry sauce; delicate and earthy. The numbing sensation of the slush when it disintegrates on my tongue. When it runs down my throat. The cloying taste of the caramel, a compliment to the cream. And..."

"Yes?"

"There's something else. I can't describe it."

"Try."

"It's... minty. But also sour. It makes my taste buds tingle. Like pop-rocks."

"Interesting."

"Can I have more ice cream, please? I'll pay double. It's scorching outside."

"Certainly."

* * *

Patricia had gotten very fat. I regarded her as she stood beside her suburban house, manning a stall made of cardboard boxes. The buttons of her blouse strained to contain her breasts.

"How odd," I said to my husband. We were on our morning stroll. He was holding my hand. My thighs chafed beneath my swing dress.

"What's odd?"

"Patty," I gestured with my chin.

"She's selling something."

"Whatever for? It's not as though her finances are lacking. She's lost her marbles."

"Ruby," my husband turned to me. "Come now, she's recently widowed."

"That might have something to do with it."

"We should talk to her. It's the neighbourly thing to do."

"Chester, I really don't think we—" I was cut off by my arm being pulled forward. Before long I was standing on the evergreen grass of Patty's yard.

"Chester. Ruby," Patty addressed us.

"Hello Patricia," My husband said. "What are you selling?"

"Ice cream. I've been growing fruit in my garden for the past year— strawberries, blueberries, honeysuckle— but I didn't know what to do with them all, so I churned them. You may have a sample, if you'd like. There's all kinds of flavours."

"No thanks," I said.

"I'd like some," said my husband.

Patty's smile was a perfect curve. My husband lowered his eyes to the makeshift table, where the ice cream was, and Patrica's breasts.

"Hmm," my husband's gaze lingered. The flavours were neatly arranged on the table inside ice-cooled buckets. Each ice cream colour was starkly different than its neighbour's; purple, pink, green and blue. More vibrant than the ice cream I'd find in the store. "I can't decide."

Patricia's giggled. "You can always come back for more."

He looked up. "Maybe. For now, I'll go with the strawberry."

Patricia's smile never faltered. The only thing moving were her pupils. The cheeks above her double chin were red and sweaty. My left hand, the hand not held by my husband, was bunched up. My thumb was playing with the infinity ring that connected my index and middle fingers.

"You're a man, not a child," I told my husband at dinner twelve days later.

"When something tastes good, you eat it." The plate of steamed broccoli in front of him was full.

"You can't eat ice cream all day. You'll become fat."

"Not everybody has your willpower, Ruby."

"You're a solider. I'm not. If I can exercise and eat well every day then so can you."

"I haven't been a soldier in over a year now."

"Which is why you need to take care of yourself. Your leg will heal in time, but it will take longer if it can't hold your weight."

"It's just a daily scoop of ice cream. And Patty gives me discounts."

"If my father was here he'd be saying the same thing."

"Right now the great general is on the frontlines, separating invader heads from their bodies. From what I've been reading on the paper it could take him a while."

"Maybe you'll get an opportunity to join the fray, the way things are going." The infinity ring felt cold on my fingers.

"It'll be alright, in the end," he said, but his eyes glanced sideways at the window, where children huddled around Patty's ice cream stall.

I studied my countenance in the bedside mirror. Making oneself beautiful was like preparing for battle. The rollers in my hair were my armour. My painted lips were weapons. My toned figure required daily maintenance.

I could remember wearing literal armour two years earlier, on my eighteenth birthday. I had worn my infinity ring since the day I was born— and yet I had nothing to show for it. I had walked out of the comfort of the oxygen dome to face the invaders for the final time. The red lodestone that the ring was made out elicited nothing more than a spark.

"It seems you are barren, Ruby," my father had said after the battle was over. "What a shame."

I had watched him as his men retreated me back to safety. His callused index and middle fingers were pointing at hundreds of invaders. He sliced through them in minutes. The swords held by his foot soldiers seemed pathetic in comparison.

As I gazed into the mirror I felt like I had that day. Barren— the word rang. I had accepted my role as a wife and future mother, but I hadn't even gotten pregnant once since. Now my husband was staying at another woman's house.

My duty was to follow my husband's lead. Yet the bloodline that had cut down all those aliens beckoned. Nobody would force me to retreat again.

I didn't bother to keep silent as I crossed Patty's evergreen— the suburbs were empty.

The door to Patty's house was open. My husband was sitting in the living room watching television. His hands and face were sticky with dried ice cream.

"Chester, come home."

He regarded me. It took him a second to recognise me. "Ruby? What are you doing here? I told you I was helping Ruby churn ice cream."

"I don't care. You need to come home now."

"Not without Patty's say-so."

I wanted to scream at him, but his eyes seemed different. "Where is Patty?"

"She's churning ice cream in the basement."

The wooden stairs leading to the basement creaked under my weight. The light grew dimmer the further I descended. There was a constant sound of squelching.

"Patricia?" I called out in a weak voice.

There was a single light above the work desk Patty was hunched over. She was utterly naked.

"What are you doing?"

"There's so many mouths to feed," she slurred, "and they are greedy. Finally, I have found my purpose. It feels so nice."

My eyes were adjusting to the darkness. On the floor slept a dozen children.

"Where are their mothers? Do they know where they are?"

"Of course. They have accepted me. But you refuse to feed, Ruby. Why?"

The words barely escaped my throat. "You shouldn't be eating sweets past supper."

"Says who? It makes one feel good." She turned around.

I thought I was fighting a wife's battle.

Patty fat stomach had grown tenfold since I saw her last. Her tongue was longer than her arm. Green fluid run along it and dripped onto the floor. Her pupils were gone. Her sclera was golden.

"What—"

"They said that my husband no longer looked like himself, but I had to see the body for myself. As a married woman you must understand. I wasn't allowed to touch him, but he was my all I had. It didn't ask the alien growth on his skin to spread to mine, but it has made me oh-so happy. Do you want to be happy, Ruby?"

"Stay back." I held my infinity ring in front of my face. It sizzled pitifully.

"This is for you own good," Patty drooled. She pushed my hand out of the way. Her fingers dug into my scalp and forced it down. My face smacked against the floor. The green fluid that had pooled there stuck to my cheek. I couldn't breathe. I had to open my mouth, just for a second— then the pain stopped.