Candy Store

bang bang bang

eight o’clock am
two barefoot white kids in cut off jeans
stand at the back door
of a black family’s residence
in the quarters
change in hand for the candy store

a few minutes pass and
(we hear her before we see her)
the ‘Candy Lady’ as we called her
comes to the door dressed in what could
only be described as a muumuu only
more like a house dress if there were
such a thing

we file in and start looking
through the freezer for ice cream
sandwiches (which were our favorites but
which she sold out of the most)
homemade and handmade and for
“fo-fi cent” (as she used to say)
you couldn’t beat ‘em

she had drinks and candy bars
and ice cream in small dixie cups
and gum and cinnamon candy that turned
your spit blood red (which we took advantage
of at every opportunity) and which we bought the
most since they were only “fi cents” apiece and
we typically had fifty cents between us

that was almost thirty years ago
surely she would be long dead
the old black “Candy Lady” who dealt
candy out the back door to us kids
while her husband dealt pot and sometimes
a little cocaine out of the front to our parents

bang bang bang
I could use some candy right now

-Lewis Applequist 2009