It all started with Ben & Jerry’s that fateful night in June. AnneMarie strutted over while the gang was busy solving mysteries and playing cards on the grass outside the dorm building. Beaming eyes portrayed to the gang a tale of risk. Or perhaps just a tale of delight when the goodies lounging in the white plastic bag she held were revealed, though this all went unnoticed by me. The game at hand had me enraptured until one ear became deaf from a shriek of glee. Glancing up and trying to regain hearing, my eyes caught sight of three pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream melting in the humid summer breeze. Setting the delectable treats in the middle of us, she squeezed in between Wyatt and I. After much debate as to who would eat each kind, our game resumed. But this time with the scent of chocolate
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But this quest turned out to be a lot more difficult than first thought. With the Mystery Machine in the shop, our gang was forced to accommodate. The red coach of Iowa Ambassadors of Music was kind enough to assist in our search, starting with London. The first night set out in search was brimming with hilarity, lazy feet, and scents of the city. There may have been sightseeing that distracted everyone from our mission, but my thoughts never veered. This conundrum had to be solved and quick before our transportation took us to Paris. These worrisome thoughts bombarded when I looked up. The gang had ventured back to the hotel after an hour spent on tired legs with heads pounding from sleeplessness, while I lollygagged behind. Neon lights of a shop beckoned like heaven’s gates opening above. There it was! The first ice cream shop!
Zoinks! I had solved this mystery…or so I thought before rough hands ushered me inside the hotel claiming curfew was nearing us. Disappointed, I described how heavenly the place had looked before. Instead, plans were made for tomorrow; tonight the pounding inside our heads needed to be taken care
But this quest turned out to be a lot more difficult than first thought. With the Mystery Machine in the shop, our gang was forced to accommodate. The red coach of Iowa Ambassadors of Music was kind enough to assist in our search, starting with London. The first night set out in search was brimming with hilarity, lazy feet, and scents of the city. There may have been sightseeing that distracted everyone from our mission, but my thoughts never veered. This conundrum had to be solved and quick before our transportation took us to Paris. These worrisome thoughts bombarded when I looked up. The gang had ventured back to the hotel after an hour spent on tired legs with heads pounding from sleeplessness, while I lollygagged behind. Neon lights of a shop beckoned like heaven’s gates opening above. There it was! The first ice cream shop!
Zoinks! I had solved this mystery…or so I thought before rough hands ushered me inside the hotel claiming curfew was nearing us. Disappointed, I described how heavenly the place had looked before. Instead, plans were made for tomorrow; tonight the pounding inside our heads needed to be taken care