The Candy Shop War

by Brandon Mull

  “The tables look pretty clean,” Pigeon observed. Summer jabbed him with her elbow.

  “You can never be too tidy,” Mrs. White said. “Wipe everything down and I’d be happy to share some goodies with you.”

  Nate and Summer attacked the windows while Trevor and Pigeon tackled the tables. The candy shop had an impressive multitude of tables, and many large windows, not to mention the glass front doors, but they worked quickly, spraying and wiping thoroughly.

  Mrs. White busied herself behind the counter. Every so often Nate looked over and caught the older woman pausing in her chores, watching them.

  Trevor and Pigeon finished the tables before Nate and Summer had completed the insides of the windows. Trevor and Pigeon added their rags to the window work, dragging chairs to reach the high parts, allowing Nate to concentrate on spraying. A couple of customers came and went while they wiped down the outside of the windows.

  By the time they finished, the four of them were tired. They returned the rags and spray bottles to Mrs. White at the counter.

  “Excellent work,” Mrs. White cheered. “You four make quite a team.” She placed a small glass of thick yellow fluid topped with whipped cream on the counter. Alongside it she set a tiny brownie. She cut the brownie into four bite-sized quarters and gave each of them a plastic spoon. Pigeon frowned at the miniscule portions. “Go ahead and sample my homemade eggnog and the butterscotch swirl brownie. I’ll give each of you a full-sized version of whichever you like more.”

  The smooth, cold eggnog was thick as a milkshake, and creamy beyond description. Nate had never tasted anything like it. The chewy brownie exploded with a harmonious mix of chocolate and butterscotch.

  “There’s no way to decide,” Pigeon moaned after sampling both.

  “Maybe I should have offered some of my secret candy instead,” Mrs. White sighed in a quiet tone, as if talking to herself.

  “Secret candy?” Nate asked, instantly intrigued.

  “My goodness,” Mrs. White said. “Forget I mentioned it. I never bring up my secret candy on a first meeting. Which will it be, eggnog or brownie?”

  “What kind of secret candy?” Trevor pressed.

  Mrs. White stared at them. “I shouldn’t allude to a secret without explaining, I suppose,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I must ask for a rain check on this one. I never discuss my secret candy on a first meeting. Perhaps if you ask me some other time. Tell you what, to make up for my slip, I’ll take away your choice. You may each have a brownie and a cup of eggnog!”

  “Secret?” Pigeon said cheerily. “Any of you guys hear about a secret? I’m sure I haven’t!”

  “Okay,” Nate consented. “But I’m asking again later.”

  Mrs. White began setting the treats on the counter.

  *****

  Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon visited the candy shop every day after school. They worked hard, and Mrs. White rewarded them kindly. On Wednesday, the penny candy was cream puffs with chocolate icing, the chore was refilling the coin-operated gumball machines, and the prize was ice cream sundaes. Thursday they bought jawbreakers for a penny, then washed dishes to earn apple fritters.

  It was exactly a week after their original visit to the candy shop when Nate reopened the subject of the secret candy. The four kids were seated at the counter sipping at delicious chocolate malts through sturdy straws. They had recently finished wiping down all the shelves and dusting the wooden Indian. The store was empty except for them and Mrs. White, who was polishing the counter while the kids drank their reward.

  “You told us to ask about the secret candy some other time,” Nate reminded Mrs. White without warning. “Has it been long enough?”

  Mrs. White stopped wiping. She twisted the rag in her hands. “I was quietly hoping you had forgotten.”

  The kids shook their heads.

  Mrs. White folded her arms and shook her head. “It is hard to put curiosity back to bed once you awaken it,” she conceded. “Very well. I have a line of extra-special candy that I don’t offer to the general public. The secret candy is far superior to anything on the menu, but is certainly not for everyone.” She eyed each of them in turn. “That said, I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and my instincts tell me you four might appreciate it. But my secret candy must be earned by more than cleaning windows and shelves. Would you four be interested?”

  “Of course,” Nate said. The others nodded eagerly.

  “Dear me, where do I begin?” Mrs. White asked, smoothing her hands over her frilly apron. She took a calming breath. “Some of my special candy requires extremely odd ingredients. What do you kids know about beetles?”

  “There are more species of beetle than any other animal,” Pigeon said.

  “Very good,” Mrs. White approved. “Hundreds of thousands of different species, with more being discovered all the time. There is a certain species in this area, I call them dusk bugs, whose eggs I need for a project I am working on.”

  Trevor spit a burst of milkshake onto the counter. “You use beetle eggs in your recipes?”

  “I know it sounds peculiar,” Mrs. White acknowledged. “The beetle eggs don’t actually end up in any of my food; that would be distasteful. The process for producing my special candy is complicated.”

  “So no beetle eggs in this malt,” Pigeon said, poised to take a new sip.

  “There are no insect eggs in my food,” Mrs. White reiterated.

  “You should use that in your advertising,” Nate suggested, stirring his drink with his straw.

  “Where would we find these beetle eggs?” Summer asked.

  “There is a trick to it,” Mrs. White said. “If you follow Greenway up past the Presidential Estates, the road ends after a few blocks.”

  “Right,” Trevor said, using a napkin from a nearby dispenser to wipe up the mess he had spewed.

  “A dirt track continues where Greenway stops, running alongside a brook. One moment.” Mrs. White passed through batwing doors into a back room and returned holding a can of shoe polish, a small leather drawstring pouch, and a pair of glass jars. “As the sun sets, follow the dirt road some distance along the stream until you see mushrooms growing.” She uncapped the shoe polish can to reveal that it was actually full of a grainy, maroon paste. “Set this on the ground. The odor of the attractant and the time of day should summon a few dusk bugs. Open the pouch and sprinkle some of the contents on the beetles. They will soon burrow into the mushrooms. After the beetles emerge, collect the mushrooms, place them in the jars, and bring them to me tomorrow.”

  “You sure it will work?” Nate asked.

  “I know it is a strange request,” Mrs. White. “If oddness turns you off, we should forget discussing my special candy. The candy can do astounding things, but all the effects are certainly strange.”

  “Strange is okay,” Trevor said.

  “Strange is great,” Nate said.

  “These old bones make it harder every year for me to gather my required ingredients,” Mrs. White explained. “If you will collect the eggs as I described, I will share some of my special candy with you. I am confident you will find it amazing and well worth the effort.”

  “With no bug eggs in it,” Pigeon clarified.

  “Correct,” Mrs. White said.

  “Can’t hurt to give it a shot,” Summer said. “Can you guys get away?”

  “I’ll just pretend it’s a school assignment,” Nate said.

  “Good thinking,” Pigeon said. “I’ll have to go home, get my homework done, and eat dinner. We ought to meet up around eight. Will we be able to make it home before dark?”

  “If you move swiftly, that should not be a problem,” Mrs. White assured him.

  *****

  The fat sun balanced on the horizon as Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon left Greenway and pedaled their bikes along the meandering dirt road. Brushy slopes rose on either side, and trees crowded the trickling steam. Summer occasionally stopped to check along th
e edge of the stream for mushrooms. On her fourth attempt, she called the others over.

  The four of them huddled around a cluster of small beige mushrooms. Pigeon pointed out a second patch of mushrooms not far away. Trevor withdrew the can of shoe polish, uncapped it, and set it on the ground.

  “Think any beetles will show up?” Nate asked.

  “She acted like she knew what she was talking about,” Summer said.

  “I’m sure some crazy people are very sincere,” Pigeon observed.

  “This is the only way to really find out,” Trevor said. “If the bugs don’t show, we’ll know she’s a little senile. One of my great aunts was like that. Very nice, but she talked to the people on TV like they were her friends. She’d get dressed up for them to come over, introduce us to them, that sort of thing.”

  The last of the sun sank below the horizon, and they waited, watching the maroon paste. Insects clicked and rattled in the brush, but no beetles appeared.

  “If this doesn’t work,” Nate said, “maybe we can still bag some mushrooms and get some special candy.”

  “No way!” Summer said. “I’m not taking advantage of that sweet old lady.”

  Pigeon chucked a pebble into the stream. “Besides, would you really want special candy from a woman with delusions about beetle eggs?”

  “Good point,” Trevor said. “How long do we wait?”

  “Hold on,” Summer said. “Look who just showed up.”

  A shiny black beetle crawled over the lip of the tin and began wallowing in the maroon paste.

  “Get out the pouch,” Pigeon said.

  As Nate opened the pouch, a second beetle joined the first. By the time he sprinkled the fine gray powder on them, a third beetle had appeared. The sprinkled beetles left the paste and wandered toward the mushrooms, and several more took their place in the open shoe polish can. Nate sprinkled the new beetles. One of the beetles scaled a mushroom and began burrowing into it.

  “Would you look at that?” Pigeon breathed. “To tell the truth, I didn’t think there was any chance it would actually happen.”

  More beetles entered the shoe polish can, and more sprinkled beetles dug their way into nearby mushrooms. “How many do we need?” Nate asked, pinching powder onto the new arrivals.

  “We should be fine with these,” Summer said. “But keep sprinkling the newcomers just in case.”

  A few more beetles arrived, stragglers, and Nate powdered them. After no new beetles showed up for several minutes, Trevor picked up the can and put on the lid.

  The sunset faded. Finally the first beetle emerged from a mushroom, and Summer placed the fungus in a jar. Soon, more beetles crawled out. Before long the kids had a bunch of mushrooms in each jar.

  Stars were becoming visible as Summer zipped one jar into her backpack and Trevor tucked the other into his. The kids pedaled quickly down the dirt road, then onto Greenway. The four of them paused where the jogging path met Greenway, the point where Summer would split off from the rest of them.

  “Mission accomplished,” Summer said.

  Trevor picked at a peeling sticker on the frame of his bike. “Who would have guessed it would actually work?”

  “Which means Mrs. White isn’t crazy,” Nate said. “I wonder what her special candy is like?”

  “I can’t wait to find out,” Pigeon exclaimed.

  “See you guys tomorrow,” Summer said.

  They went their separate ways.

  *****

  When Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon arrived at the candy shop the next day, Mrs. White stood at the register bagging a box of chocolates for a woman in a large red wig. The woman paid and exited the store.

  “Well?” Mrs. White asked. “Was last night a success?”

  In answer, Summer unzipped her backpack and held up the jar of mushrooms. Trevor did likewise.

  “So many?” Mrs. White asked, sounding delighted. “Follow me into the back.” She lifted a hinged segment of the counter, and the kids followed her through the batwing doors into the rear of the store. Barrels and crates dominated the gloomy room. Shelves loaded with bags and cartons and unnamed ingredients lined the walls. Various delicacies were in development on a trio of sizable worktables. Mrs. White escorted the children to a small, square table in the corner covered by a purple embroidered tablecloth. A microscope rested on the table.

  Mrs. White unscrewed the lid of one of the jars and removed a mushroom. She sliced into the bulbous fungus with a scalpel, excising a flap of beige matter. Setting the sample on a slide, she peered into her microscope, adjusting the focus knob.

  “Well done!” Mrs. White exclaimed, looking up at them. “You four reaped quite a harvest, better than I expected.”

  “I have to admit, we had our doubts about whether it would work,” Pigeon said. “We were all impressed.”

  “Any rational person would have entertained some doubts,” Mrs. White said. “What matters is that you trusted me enough to successfully carry out my instructions. I could make good use of helpers like yourselves.” She rummaged beneath the table for a moment and came up with a cylindrical aluminum container.

  “What’s that?” Pigeon asked.

  Mrs. White removed the lid of the container. “Most rock candy is nothing more than crystallized sugar,” she began, removing four translucent chunks from the container. “I call these Moon Rocks. They are magical candy. I do not expect you to immediately believe this. But you will after you try them.”

  Nate, Summer, and Trevor shared a look expressing their mutual concern that Mrs. White might be a lunatic after all.

  “Find a private place,” Mrs. White suggested. “You will not want to be observed. Just suck the candy. Don’t bother spitting it out to save it for later. Once you spit it out, the candy loses all potency. Biting it can be hazardous. Mark my words—if I am to share magic candy with you, for your own safety and for the well-being of others, you must learn to consume it as directed. Any questions?”

  “No bug eggs?” Nate asked.

  “No bug eggs,” Mrs. White confirmed.

  “Are you giving us drugs?” Pigeon asked warily.

  Mrs. White stroked his head gently. “Why, of course not. Drugs are a terrible menace! What kind of person would I be to disguise drugs as candy and give them to children? I certainly would not be in business long! But I’m glad you’re on the lookout—there are unsavory characters in the world. This is a candy shop. Some of my candy is very special. Unique in all the world, in fact, and capable of astounding things. Give the Moon Rocks a try. Like the beetles, you’ll find it much easier to believe me after you put my words to the test. Find a quiet place. Suck, don’t bite. Or don’t try them, if you prefer. Now I must get back to minding the store and preparing goodies. Thank you for your help. If you enjoy the candy, please come visit me again.”

  Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon each accepted a Moon Rock and let Mrs. White usher them out of the store.

  *****

  Near the creek below Monroe Circle was a roomy hollow canopied by five trees and sheltered by barriers of prickly undergrowth. There were only two ways in, and both were tricky to see. One required crawling. Four of the trees were quite good for climbing. The largest tree had huge, winding roots that grew out of the steep bank above the creek. The gnarled roots made for a superb emergency hiding place. This secluded hollow was the hideout of the Blue Falcons. They called it the Nest.

  Summer crawled into the Nest, followed by Trevor, Pigeon, and Nate. Once inside, they stood in a circle, all still holding the sugar crystals Mrs. White had given them. “Who’s going to try it first?” Nate asked.

  “You’re the newest member of the club,” Summer replied.

  “So I get to pick? Okay . . . Trevor.”

  “I think she meant you should try the candy first,” Trevor clarified.

  “What do you think it does?” Pigeon asked.

  “Nothing,” Summer said. “But I hope it tastes good.”

  “She sou
nded pretty convinced they were magical,” Pigeon said hopefully. “And she was right about the beetles.”

  Trevor held up his Moon Rock, studying it. “I wonder what happens if we bite them?”

  “I bet our heads will explode,” said Nate. He looked around the circle; the others were all watching him with expectant looks on their faces. “Okay, I’ll do it first.” He popped the Moon Rock into his mouth.

  “Feel any different?” Pigeon asked eagerly.