PENNY CANDY

by
Liz Kollar

The window seemed to beckon her. She had passed it three times and each time she was drawn back to the display of chocolates, nougats, and creams artfully arranged behind the plate glass window. They sat like royalty on stands covered with gold doilies and swaths of opulent satin, chunks of perfection, boxes of luscious nut filled chocolate, wild concoctions of hazelnuts, almonds and walnuts. Mildred’s eyes, behind her bifocals, reflected the bright ceiling lights of the shop. She felt herself walking, mesmerized, into the shop as if drawn into a vast swirling pool of chocolate, her heart responding to the beguiling call of the candy.

Mildred was weak when it came to staying on her diet and she touched her double chin nervously. She had never been able to resist the sweet, satisfying lure of gumdrops and jellybeans. These weren’t as glamorous or mouth wateringly delicious as the chocolate confections in the window, but with the small change left in her pocket from today’s lunch which she had eaten on a park bench near her office, jellybeans were all she could afford. The fudge looked tempting, too. Maybe just one piece, she thought, feeling faint from desire

Now she stood in front of the display case, clearly overcome with her sudden need. "Jelly beans," she whispered. "I’d like a quarter pound, please." She breathed in deeply of the tantalizing aroma coming from the stainless steel pot behind the counter where the corpulent candy-store owner, was stirring a fresh batch of fudge.

He was ready to pour the creamy mixture out on a slab so that it could firm up. Once he cut it into thick chunks she’d be lost and then she’d have to buy some from him, and if she did that, she’d have to take it home and eat it. Her guilty thoughts, like an invisible cloud, filled the shop and swirled about her head as she changed her mind about the jellybeans. "That…that piece of chocolate with the cherry inside," she stuttered, frantically searching her purse for the additional amount of money needed to pay for her purchase. "Maybe… I’ll take two," she said, mumbling now, totally out of control. "They’re… uh…for my mother, you know. She has a sweet tooth."

The man smiled knowingly. He was used to seeing people with crazed eyes and drooling lips come into his shop. "Are you sure two will be enough?" His voice had dropped to a seductive whisper. "Maybe you’ll want some to eat some yourself… while you’re watching television," and his leering lips made an expressive sound as if he was actually biting into a piece of the chocolate. It made Mildred’s heart flip.

Imagine getting a heart attack over candy, she thought, and her heart seemed to do another flip, erratic, almost painful. Maybe God thinks I’m being greedy, and she shook her head to chase the errant thought away.

Wrapping the two pieces of cherry filled candy in wax paper and placing them into a small bag, he gave them to Mildred who paid him with the change clutched in her perspiring hand and fled the store, letting the door slam behind her.

A young boy, carrying a mitt and ball, stood outside the store, hungry eyes staring in the window. Had God placed him there to give her pause? Mildred stopped her mad rush for home. She didn’t really need the candy, did she? She knew she wasn’t supposed to eat any. What should I do? she asked herself? Then, she knew. She approached the boy and held out the bag, her hand shaking with the effort. "Here, young man," she said. "Please, take this candy. You can have it."

He turned to her, his eyes, big and dark, deep enough for her to lose herself in their innocence. His smile was the guileless smile of a child; it touched her heart and Mildred knew she had done the right thing. She had given of herself, given what she really loved the most. Maybe, she thought, maybe this had been a test.

The boy walked down the street clutching the bag, and Mildred, breathing in victoriously, straightened her shoulders and walked home. This had definitely been a battle and tomorrow, she would stand on the scale and know she was finally a winner.

©Copyright 2002 by Liz Kollar