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Candy Courage
Summary:
Glenn Bellamy, a divorced dad, is taking his son around trick-or-treating. He confiscates some homemade peanut brittle -- and eats it himself of course -- not knowing that the old man who made it is an alchemist who adds something special to his candy each year. This year it was Courage, so when Glenn and his son hit Neal Sampson's house, Glenn finds himself flirting and making a date for the next day. Will the candy courage wear off, or will Glenn find the guts to go after what he wants?
Read the Beginning:
Sebastiano Fiorentelli studied the calendar --a freebie from the Humane Society with photos of puppies and kittens on it --on the wall of his cluttered basement laboratory and observed that it was the thirtieth day of October. Since emigrating to the United States and discovering the Halloween custom of sending children around to beg for treats, he'd made a habit of including something extra in the candy he made for the occasion each year. By the Nineteen-seventies, when hysteria over poison and razor blades swept the population, Mr. Fiorentelli had been living in his San Jose neighborhood long enough that no one fussed about letting their children eat his wax-paper-wrapped candies.
He paced back and forth in front of open cabinets and crowded shelves, pondering what to make this year, until finally he stopped and nodded.
"Courage," he said. "This year, I think I'll make courage..."
The next evening, Robbie Matheson, age eight, refused to share the wax-wrapped peanut brittle he'd gotten from old Mr. Fiorentelli on the corner. His real favorite candy was those little Milky Way bars, but Mr. Fiorentelli made some pretty cool candy and he always knew he had to eat it as soon as he could or his mom would sneak it.
Ten minutes later, he stood in his room and stared out the window into the dark back yard at the trampoline cage. His big sister Stephanie had been bouncing in it since she was five and had been teasing Robbie for being a scaredy-cat for the last three years, because no matter how his sister had taunted or his parents had coaxed or his friends had snickered, he'd refused to even stand on the trampoline.
Robbie knew --really knew --that he couldn't get hurt in the cage unless he landed on his head or something. Just bouncing up and down without trying any flips or anything was perfectly safe. He knew that.
Of course he knew that.
So what was the big deal?
Robbie marched downstairs and outside into the dark, took off his sneakers, and climbed into the tramp cage, still wearing his Batman costume.
Graciela's big brothers had grabbed most of her peanut brittle before their mother had chased them away. She was six and they were eight and eleven, so when they'd stuffed their hands into her plastic pumpkin full of candy, she hadn't been able to do anything but howl. There was one piece left, though, and she crunched it down as fast as she could.
She heard a snuffling sound behind her and saw her brothers' dog, Miguelito, sniffing along the carpet toward her candy.
Lito was a big, strong Rottweiler with a scary looking face and sharp teeth, and Graciela had been terrified of him for as long as she could remember. She wasn't afraid right then, though, and couldn't even remember why she'd been afraid before. Lito gave her pumpkin another sniff, then looked at Graciela and wagged his tail.
Graciela dug a caramel out of the bucket and unwrapped it, then held it out on her hand. Lito slurped it up, his tongue tickling her palm, and started chewing. And chewing and chewing. His teeth stuck together and he made funny faces. Graciela laughed and hugged him and kissed the top of his head. Lito was funny. His tail was still wagging, too, so she knew he liked her. She liked him back, and knew they'd be friends forever.
Glenn Bellamy and his neighbor, Sam, stood out on the sidewalk and waited for their two sons, who'd just rung the doorbell of what must be their sixty-twelfth house, at least. The kids were still going strong, though, and Glenn had enough happy memories of his own Halloweens and trick-or-treating that he'd promised himself he'd keep going as long as Georgie, in his little Blade costume, was still on his feet.





