A Month of Saturdays IV
Around the fountain at the William Mulholland Memorial, the ice cream man pushes his cart and the tinny bells scatter music like jacks on the sidewalk. Soon there is a flock around the cart, boys in deplorable shirts and shorts jostle young women in formal dark velvet, who jostle right back, fighting the urge to shove like big sisters only in deference to their sleek twisted hair and satin shoes. Little girls are reminded over and over of their flouncy lace, but they will climb and roll and run and beg a ride on an older girl’s two-wheeler just the same, because that’s what little girls are for on a Saturday in the park.
