My Nana slid the coins from her hand to mine. They clinked against one another in my small hand. So many that they overflowed my palm and hit the floor, bouncing and spinning. I bent over to pick them up only to drop more. Copper and silver rolling around the floor in circles, standing straight up like a clown on a unicycle. I got down on my hands and knees, crawling under the light blue counter top. Sliding my hand under the metal radiator on the cold marble I blindly search for the dime. Carefully I collected each one that had almost escaped. As I stood back up I slid the coins into the pocket of my dark blue shorts that hung loosely on my slender frame. The waistband hung low on my right hip with the weight of what was a fortune in my mind. My exaggerated movements made the coins jingle and brought a broad smile to my face. I had a mission to complete and Nana’s only request was the chocolate covered peanuts.
Out the tall wooden door onto the closed in porch the sweet aroma of the roses already hit my nose. The screen door bangs shut behind me as I am on the top step of the stoop. Blooms of red and pink stretch close to the maroon brick and cement of the house and walkway. Down the short path to the city sidewalk I make a left. The concrete of the sidewalk radiates the sun’s heat back up to my face. Short legs and small feet make the 4 block walk seem like a journey to the other side of the world. Beams from the sun reflect and bounce making my eyes water and it is a struggle to keep them open. Up the gentle slope of the landscape I hop and jump on the ball of my feet trying to avoid the cracks that take over the sidewalk. Past the houses the hill quickly becomes steep, with excitement and anticipation I pick up my pace and skip along. My long blonde hair swings side to side and the change creates a rhythmical beat. I ooze with pride at being a big girl with responsibilities, in charge of money, and a mission.
Once past the houses near the top of the hill the world opens up to flourishing businesses surrounding the courthouse. A large copper dome supported by elegant smooth gray limestone. Sculpted statues and filigree adorn the structure crafted by masons from generations past. Flanked on all four sides are equally impressive store buildings standing tall and proud. Large windows welcome in the customer with displays of marvelous merchandise. Traffic was endless moving through the busy street. Brakes squeaking, engines humming, and the occasional honk of a car horn bounces off the structures. Benjamin Franklins is on my right as I intersected with the square, but I’m not going there today. Today when the red hand disappears and the green hand lights up giving me permission to cross I am going to Betty Jean’s.
Elated at being only a couple of stores away I run fast through the crosswalk before the red hand can forbid my crossing. Glancing to my left the enormous dark tinted windows of the store reflect my image. I am drawn in as I move forward, doing a quick spin and side stepping until they give way to the polished limestone. Looking up the sign smiles down, “The Betty Jean Shop.” The windows are plastered with fliers and announcements from the college students hiding the goodies inside. I push open the door and the bells hanging on the handle by jute announce to everyone inside that I have arrived. The cool air rushes to surround me as the aroma of chocolate and nuts float in the air. The smell of confections so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt.
Straight in front of me on a square stage is a smiling woman boxed in by glass displays of heavenly assortments of candies. Chocolates, brown and white dripping in caramel covering all flavors of nuts and gum balls in all colors in abundance surrounding her like a personal gingerbread house! My mouth waters and my mind explodes, all I can think is that must be the best job ever. As I skitter around the outer limits of the wall of candy my nose is so close to the glass that I can see my breath creating ovals of fog. My arms are breaking out in goose bumps, maybe from the heat of the sun being cooled by air conditioning, but I think more from the sheer joy of the moment.
“What can I get you,” singsongs from above me. Words so sweet were never spoken. I race around the corner and there they are; cherry sour balls! Bright and red, full in the glass display. My finger jumps to the windowed barrier and I push and tap leaving my oily fingerprint. “How much?” she questions. In my mind I say “all of ‘em!” In reality I answer her in a hushed voice, “a quarter pound, please.” She grabs the small white paper bag from the counter top and snaps it open. My gaze lowers from her to the candy box and I lean in closer. The heavy gray metal scoop captures sour balls and sends others fleeing and tumbling around in the case. She retreats and I can hear the metallic ping as the balls hit the bowl on the scale. My excitement is palpable. The rustle of the paper bag and the rumble of the sour balls hitting the bottom and bouncing off of each other makes me jump in place and quietly clap my hands. I peer over the glass candy cases and counter on my tippy toes. She is rolling down the top of the bag and walking towards me. “Anything else?” she asks as she hands me the bag. I almost forgot the chocolate covered peanuts! She hands me another small white bag and I reach into my pocket, carefully counting out the change reaching high above me to deposit it onto the counter. I can hear the ringing of the cash register and the slamming of the change drawer. She hands me back a nickel and I turn on my heels to exit. In the humid heat, I open the bag and pop a sour ball in my mouth and start skipping back to deliver the Chocolate covered peanuts.