Candy?
The sun was setting, the park got quieter, and I grew calmer. An evening walk always helps. I settled down comfortably at one of the lonely benches — lonely even for an almost empty park. Just what I needed to enjoy my candy bar, which I grabbed from the inside of my jacket.
“Raspberry! Lucky me!”
I carry a bunch of flavors in my jacket pocket and love to surprise myself. I tore only the top half of the wrapper so as to not get my hands sticky and gazed at the bright red or pink, or somewhere in between color, and took a long, slow lick.
“Why need fancy cars or hot girls when I can cherish this small pleasure! Candy, my love! I don’t care if I lose all my teeth as mom always threatened and scolded. She was scary, but she’s not around anymore. So… yay!!!”
I sucked on my candy as I took in the last of the sunlit sight. Yellowish greenery slow-dancing to the tweeting of birds and chirping of crickets with a rustle of their own. And two kids, about fifteen yards away, at the sandbox.
I think it was the mother who smiled at me as she dragged the crying girl away. I smiled back and looked at the now alone boy. The boy didn’t seem bothered and was now playing with some toy, an action figure I think, at the top of the slide.
“He could fall down and get hurt.”
I took a bite from my candy bar. Sucking on it took too much time. But I couldn’t help taking my time to relish it.
“How carefree he is! Not a bother in the world. Children are so lucky. They don’t have to go to the office. They don’t need money. They even get free candy.”
Especially these rich kids. I can tell. His lovely shoes and socks. I never had those when I was his age. I always wanted them but my mom couldn’t afford any. These rich kids flaunting their goodies to me and when I asked for them, they ridiculed and bullied me.
I remember once I asked for some candy from a kid, and when he refused, I beat him up and took it from him. My teacher hit me hard in front of my classmates and also called my mom. My mom thrashed me pretty badly and when I said that I wouldn’t have done it if she had bought me candy, she beat me up some more.
Weeeee! This candy is so good! I wish I could stick it in your face, mom.”
The kid slid down but lost his balance while getting up and landed on his face.
“Haha. That was fun.”
He got up, dusted himself, climbed back up on the slide and continued playing with his toy.
“Why isn’t he crying? That was a pretty hard fall. Takes the fun out of it.”
I guess I could take away his toy and make him cry. If he didn’t, I could pinch him hard until he cries. That would be fun. Oh! I could try WWE moves on him. Chokeslam! Pedigree! Suplex! Tombstone Piledriver!
If I can take him home, I can have so much more fun. I can watch him crying for his mommy.
“Mommy! I want my mommy!”
I can let him starve as I make him watch me eating colorful candy. Wow! So exciting!
Oh! Oh! I can stuff his head in a plastic cover or hold him underwater or hang him and see him thrash about, gasping for air.
How much fun I could have with all the tools at home — hammer, saw, screwdriver, scissors, nail-cutter, kitchen knife, spoon, fork, cricket bat…
If it were only that easy.
I got up. I finished my treat. I started walking to the sandbox.
I wasn’t as lucky as this kid. In fact, I would call my childhood a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. I don’t think we share anything in common.
“Ah! I got one! Our moms are irresponsible bitches.”
“Hey kid”, I called out to him. He looked at me with tired, sleepy eyes.
I pulled out the three remaining candy bars and offered them to him, wearing my kindest smile.
“Candy?”
