Edgemont is haunted every summer by an Ice Cream truck that only comes out after dark. Large and long and old fashioned unlike the small one-person trucks that drive the route by day, this truck and its sonorous, distorted bell fill everyone who hears it with a sense of unshakeable anxiety. The locals are so shaken by it that they refuse to talk about it or deny its existence outright. Its comings seem to coincide with the New Moon.
If you steel yourself and manage to overcome the anxiety you will feel about sighting it, wave the truck down. The man who drives it has dead eyes and will only accept money minted before 1980. The truck’s menu will be illegible with age, but ask for a sour cherry popsicle. The popsicle the man gives you will taste coppery and salty, but swallow every last mouthful without complaining about the taste. The man will smile and ask you if you want to ride along. Never accept his offer, no matter how tempted you feel.
From that day forward, to your eyes the night will seem as bright as the day, and people will glow with the warmth of however many days of life remain for them. No one knows what happens if you flag the man down again or accept his offer.