The Candymakers

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The Candymakers Page 7

by Wendy Mass


  Logan could hear Max talk about crystals and molecules and stability all day, and it still wouldn’t make sense. All he knew was that if you wanted to cook with chocolate, it needed to be in a certain state. Basically, a blob of mushy chocolate fresh from the Cocoa Room went into the machine, got sloshed around, then was heated, cooled, heated, and cooled again. About an hour later, the chocolate came out shiny and more solidified. He’d need to learn how to do it by hand one day—all good candymakers knew how—but Logan feared he wouldn’t be able to follow the instructions.

  “I’d like you to spend the next few hours practicing with these machines and your raw ingredients,” said Max. “Also feel free to go back to some of the rooms we visited yesterday, where anyone will be happy to answer your questions. After lunch I’ll meet with each of you in private to discuss your chosen project. Do any of you know what you want to make yet?”

  Philip’s hand shot up.

  Daisy muttered, “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Preparation is the key to success,” Philip declared. “I’ve been working on my contest entry for weeks.” He waved his hand dismissively at the long lab table. “And I won’t need any fancy machines to make it.”

  Logan glanced worriedly at Max. These machines were like his children. Max’s eyebrows rose in response to Philip’s comment, but all he said was, “Wonderful, Philip. I look forward to seeing what you’ve come up with. Anyone else?”

  Logan glanced at Daisy and Miles, but they both shook their heads. With a deep breath, Logan slowly raised his hand. He’d dreamt about the Bubbletastic ChocoRocket for so long, it had begun to feel like just a dream. But now the time had come to make it real. He had opened his mouth to speak when Philip stepped forward and pulled on Max’s sleeve.

  “Yes, Philip?” Max asked, turning toward him. “Are you so eager to share your plans that you can’t wait your turn?”

  Philip shook his head. “I just wanted you to know I’m not going to show my candy to anyone before the contest. Like you said yesterday, you can’t copyright a recipe. There’s nothing to keep anyone at the factory—or any of you guys, no offense—from stealing my idea, mass-producing it, and making a fortune. Then I’d have to sue, and it would get messy.”

  Miles gasped. Daisy shook her head disapprovingly. Logan stared, aghast. “But that would never happen!” he insisted. “Not here at the factory. Not from one of us!”

  Philip shrugged. “I prefer to win the contest first, and then I can control what happens next.” He crossed the room to his station and pulled out his notebook. Apparently, the conversation didn’t interest him anymore.

  Silence descended on the room and hung there. Even Max couldn’t seem to find the right words. The only time Logan had ever seen that happen was when Miss Paulina called from Miss Paulina’s Candy Palace with the news that twenty boxes of Oozing Crunchoramas had oozed all over the store when the electricity went out, and she was standing in a river of chocolate.

  No one moved until the door swung open with a bang. Then they all jumped.

  CHAPTER SIX

  How’s everybody doing?” the Candymaker boomed as he and Logan’s mom entered the room. “It’s so quiet in here I figured I’d find you all huddled over your lab tables creating something delicious and award-winning!” He grinned, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes.

  The Candymaker’s high spirits were enough to lift the dark mood that had fallen on the room. Philip kept his head down, but Miles and Daisy eagerly approached Logan’s parents with shy smiles. Introductions were made and hands shaken.

  “We had hoped to get here yesterday,” Logan’s mom said. “But things always get a bit crazy before the big show.”

  “That’s what people in the candy business call the annual convention,” Logan explained to the others.

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Sweet said. “And we always get a few visitors passing through on their way to the show, so you may notice a few more men around here today who look like my husband.” She reached over and affectionately patted the Candymaker’s belly. “We’re always happy to show other candymakers how we do things. And we learn from them as well. I’m sure you’re all helping one another, too.”

  Logan squirmed a bit but didn’t look over at Philip. He didn’t want to put him on the spot.

  His mom then put her arm around Daisy’s shoulders. “It’s nice to have another girl around here. If there’s anything you need, just ask me.”

  Daisy beamed.

  “Nice to see you again, Philip,” the Candymaker’s wife said.

  They all turned to look at Philip in surprise. When had she met him?

  “Ah, so this is Philip!” the Candymaker exclaimed, crossing the room.

  Philip quickly stashed away his notebook (no doubt full of his top-secret recipe) and stood up. “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir?” Miles mouthed at Logan.

  “Well, Philip, I heard you’re quite the go-getter.”

  “You… you did?” Philip said, stuttering a bit. For the first time, he seemed a bit nervous. Logan supposed the Candymaker’s, er, girth, could be a little intimidating if you didn’t know him.

  The Candymaker nodded. “Henry in Marshmallows told me he had a nice chat with you at lunch yesterday. You impressed him with your ambition.”

  Philip gave a quick nod but didn’t say anything.

  Logan listened to this exchange with interest. Henry was impressed with someone’s ambition? Henry, the man blissfully content to make marshmallows day after day for forty years? Leave it to Henry to find something nice to say about everyone.

  “Well, children,” the Candymaker said, turning back to the others. “Enjoy your stay here with us, and I’ll look forward to seeing what you each come up with. Including you, son.” He ruffled Logan’s hair playfully. Logan’s mom gave Daisy a final squeeze and off they went.

  Logan busied himself by picking up the measuring cup at his station, examining it in the light, and putting it down again. Maybe no one had heard his father’s parting words. No luck. All three contestants swarmed him.

  Daisy said, “Your own parents don’t know what you’re making?”

  Logan shook his head.

  “Why?” asked Miles.

  Logan hesitated, not sure how to answer. Before he could figure it out, Philip took his turn. “I’m sure his parents know. How could they not? He’s pulling your leg.”

  “I assure you he is not,” said Max, coming to Logan’s rescue. “He has kept me in the dark as well, although the rules don’t stipulate that the contestant can’t use other resources.”

  “But why, Logan?” Miles asked. “Don’t you want your dad’s help? And Max’s?”

  Logan took a deep breath. “It’s sort of complicated. I always thought if I made it into the contest, that this was the candy I wanted to make. So if I had everyone’s help, then it wouldn’t be mine anymore. I need to do this myself. The way you guys are. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Daisy said, punching him playfully on the arm. “That’s very big of you. Don’t you think so, guys?”

  Miles nodded enthusiastically. Philip shook his head. “No. I think it was stupid. You had an advantage and you tossed it aside. That’s not how you win, that’s how you lose.”

  Daisy’s fists clenched again, but Max stepped in before she could respond. “Come now, children,” he said, ushering everyone back toward their stations. “This is a friendly competition. We’re making candy, after all, not running for political office.”

  “That may be,” Philip said, crossing his arms, “but I’d like to request some sort of structure around my station.”

  “A structure?” Max repeated.

  Philip nodded. “Like a curtain.”

  Max’s forehead furrowed. “What would I hang a curtain from?”

  They all looked up at the gleaming rows of pipes that ran along the ceiling, then back down at Philip.

  “Well, some sort of temporary wall, then,” he deman
ded. “I believe the contest rule book will back me up.”

  Max opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Logan looked back and forth from Max to Philip, who stood with his arms crossed.

  Finally Max sighed. “I’ll look into it during lunch.”

  Philip appeared satisfied and sat down on the stool behind his station.

  Max addressed all of them. “Now everyone scram. Go visit some of the rooms, talk to the assistant candymakers, see what excites you. We don’t have much time left to prepare. The four of you will meet for lunch in the cafeteria in an hour.”

  The contest had begun! They were about to take the first step toward winning. The moment should have been electrifying. No one, however, moved a muscle. Max clapped his hands. “Go, go, go!”

  Still no one moved.

  Max sighed again. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

  Miles raised his hand. “I don’t know where to go.”

  “Did any of the stops on the tour yesterday interest you more than the others?”

  “I guess so…”

  “Good!” Max said. “Start there. Now, how about you, Daisy?”

  Daisy tugged at her ponytail. Logan noticed she did that whenever she felt unsure of something. “I really don’t know. Maybe I should make something with taffy?”

  Max nodded. “You certainly have the strength to work with taffy. I’m sure you can come up with something the taffy world hasn’t seen before.”

  “If you say so,” Daisy said, sounding unconvinced.

  Max turned to Philip. “I won’t even ask.”

  Philip gave his standard curt nod, picked up his briefcase, and strode from the room.

  All eyes turned to Logan. He gave a weak smile. “Tropical Room. I need to, um, learn about the properties of gum. You know, from the source.”

  Max smiled. “So your new candy is gum-based? It seems you were about to tell us before but got cut short.”

  Logan shifted his weight, then nodded. “It’s sort of gum-based. Sort of chocolate.”

  “C’mon, Logan,” Daisy said. “You can tell us. We’re all friends here.”

  Logan looked around at the three faces smiling at him and knew she was right. “Okay, but I don’t even know if it’s possible.” He took a deep breath. “I want to invent the Bubbletastic ChocoRocket, which turns from chocolate to gum… and back again!”

  He waited for them to laugh, but instead they all started talking at once.

  “Sounds great! Wow! You should totally do that!”

  “You really think so?”

  Max hesitated for only a second. “I’m not saying it will be easy, but yes, I think you can do it.”

  Logan felt a weight lift just by telling them his plans. Keeping a secret always made him uneasy.

  “No time to waste,” Daisy declared, linking her arm through his. “Gotta get you off and running!”

  Miles joined them, and the three left the room, talking excitedly about their plans.

  “See you guys at lunch,” Daisy said, turning down the corridor toward the Taffy Room.

  “Good luck.” Logan waved, then turned to Miles. “Do you want me to take you somewhere?”

  Miles shook his head. “I’ll be okay.”

  As Miles strode away, he looked smaller, somehow, than he had yesterday. It took only a second to realize why. No backpack on his shoulder! Logan considered getting it for him but realized he didn’t know where Miles was headed. How strange to have the others wandering around the factory on their own. Unheard-of, really. But his dad had said he wanted them to feel at home.

  Logan hurried to the Tropical Room and searched the trees for Avery. He couldn’t find him anywhere. He circled around again, then stopped to break off a stalk from an aloe plant, which he stuck in his pocket for later.

  “Ahoy there, matey!” Avery’s voice came from one of the many loudspeakers dotted throughout the room.

  Logan ran from tree to tree. He started laughing. “Where are you?”

  “In the office. A guy’s gotta do paperwork sometimes. It’s not all fun and games, ya know.”

  Logan wound his way back to the office, which he had passed right by. “It’s not? All fun and games, I mean.”

  Avery grinned as he shut a file drawer with his hip. “Mostly it is. So what brings you here in the middle of the day? Aren’t you supposed to be inventing the world’s next great candy?”

  Logan nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I need to learn all there is to know about gum.”

  Avery narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You know as much about gum as I do, mister. What’s really up?”

  Logan sighed. Avery was probably right—he did know a lot about gum. “Well,” Logan said sheepishly. “There’s one thing I really need to know—how do I get gum to turn into chocolate, and, er, back again?”

  Avery laughed. Logan’s shoulders sagged.

  Avery stopped laughing. “Oh, you’re serious?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Sorry! Okay, gum to chocolate and back again. Like, over and over or just the one time?”

  “Um, over and over. You know, if possible.”

  Avery reached into the corner of the office and grabbed two canvas bags from a big pile. He tossed one to Logan. “Well, sounds like you’ve got a challenge in front of you. Help me collect some fresh chicle, and we’ll talk.”

  So Logan helped, and Avery talked. By the time they’d finished harvesting, Logan had a pretty good idea of how to proceed. All he’d need is the fresh chicle, the exactly right cooling and heating temperatures, powdered sugar, acacia gum, some tempered chocolate, nougat, edible wax, and a handmade mold.

  Oh, and that whole miracle thing.

  Logan found Miles waiting outside the cafeteria at lunchtime. He was leaning against the wall, backpack at his feet, reading a note. He held it out to Logan.

  Hi guys, have lunch without me,

  went to go check on the horse.

  Hugs, Daisy.

  “What do you think she crossed out?” Logan asked, handing the note back to Miles.

  Miles peered down at it and shook his head. “Can’t tell.” He tucked it into his pocket. “So, do you think we should wait for Philip?”

  Logan nodded. “At least a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Neither of them spoke as they watched the workers stream into the cafeteria. Everyone greeted Logan with a high five or a hearty hello. They all had a smile for Miles, too.

  “Everyone here is really nice,” Miles commented.

  “Yes,” agreed Logan. Now that the two of them were alone, he wanted to ask Miles about himself, his family, school, and so on, but he didn’t know how to begin. He didn’t even know if Miles had any brothers or sisters. He opened his mouth to ask where Miles had spent the last hour just as Miles blurted out, “Do you think Daisy’s pretty?”

  Logan thought about it. Her hair was definitely shiny and a nice shade of yellow. And she smelled kind of good. When she smiled, her whole face lit up. “Yes,” he said, fairly confidently. “I’m pretty sure she is. Pretty, I mean. Do you think so?”

  Miles nodded, less certainly. “I think so. I’m not really sure.” He looked down. “To be honest, I’m not really used to thinking about girls. Well, one girl I liked, but she, um, moved away.”

  Logan was relieved. “Me neither. Thinking about girls, I mean. I don’t see many of them.”

  Miles nodded, then said, “I don’t think Philip’s coming.”

  Logan looked at his watch, then turned to scan inside the cafeteria. No sign of him. “I think you’re right. Let’s get something to eat.”

  “Chocolate pizza?” Miles asked hopefully.

  Logan laughed. “That’s only on Thursdays. But I know where we can get some. C’mon.”

  He took off running, with Miles close on his heels. When they arrived at Logan’s apartment, they were out of breath. Logan’s mom opened the door right as he reached for the knob.

  “Logan Sweet,” she said, hands on
her hips. “Were you running again?”

  “Um, no?” Logan replied, panting. Miles giggled.

  His mother shook her head disapprovingly and ushered them inside. “So how’s the Bubbletastic ChocoRocket coming?”

  Logan sighed. “Max told you already?”

  His mother nodded. “Of course. There are no secrets in this place.”

  “It’s true,” Logan told Miles. “If you sneeze in the Sour Fingers Room, someone in Icy Mint Blobs will say God bless you. It’s weird.”

  “Well?” his mother prompted.

  “I have some ideas,” he replied honestly.

  “How about you, Miles? How’s your project coming?”

  “I’m not sure,” Miles replied, the tips of his ears turning a bit red. “I… I think it’s going to work. It’s nowhere near as cool as Logan’s, though.”

  Logan opened the refrigerator and pulled out the box of chocolate pizza. “Mine’s only cool if I can make it work,” he reminded Miles.

  “Here, let me warm these up for you.” Logan’s mom took the box from his hands.

  “She’s afraid I’ll drop them,” Logan explained good-naturedly.

  “Hush,” his mom said, pretending to swat him with her free hand. “Why don’t you go show Miles your room? These will be ready in five minutes.”

  So Logan gave Miles a tour of the apartment. When they reached the bathroom, he dug the thick aloe leaf out of his back pocket and rested it on top of the pile on the counter.

  “Good for the skin,” Logan explained.

  Miles nodded knowingly.

  Logan wondered if Miles used aloe, too. “You can have some if you like,” he offered. “I can always get more. You know, because I live in a candy factory.” He grinned.

  Miles grinned back. “Right. That’s what I figured. But no thanks, I’m good.”

  Logan tried to think of ways to keep stalling so he didn’t have to show Miles his bedroom. What if Miles thought it looked like a little kid’s room, with all the stuffed dinosaurs and drawings tacked up and the curtains with moons and stars on them? To say nothing of the mess. Fortunately he was saved by his mom yelling for them to come for lunch.

 

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