Emilys Candy

Chapter 1 § Just a Piece of Bubblegum

I ponder his words, sceptical clearly written all over my face. What about it could be so significant? It's just a piece of bubblegum after all.

"No, miss, I assure you; this is no ordinary piece of gum. You see, it's...," here he lowers his voice and looks warily around his store, called Goodwin's, named after himself, before bending closer to me across the counter, "it's magic."

I scoff. I can't help it. I mean, really? That's impossible. Magic isn't real of course. I feel a little bad for the guy, who's been here for as long as anyone can remember. He's always been referred to as a sweet, kind old man, but the words "a little crazy" are always included somewhere towards the end.

"Mr. Goodwin, I'll get it, I just don't see what you mean," I finally say, placing a fifty-cent coin on the marble between us.

He smiles as he takes the shining silvery piece, placing it in the small coin jar next to the lollipops with a small plink. The man then takes the necklace that holds a golden-silver key that has just a touch of a pink tint to it from around his neck and places it on the tabletop. He takes the small, intricately carved sort of cage that houses what I've just bought in his hands and puts it next to the key. I watch the old man's actions, confused. He's never been known to take the key from around his neck. It's kind of what he's known for; besides being the owner of the most popular candy shop in Hardenbrooke.

Everybody that I know has always wondered about the key that matches the small house. The swirling detail on the key matches that of the single piece of bubblegum's cage, and the fantastical colors too. The material both are made of seem to be glass, or, as some people like to think, of diamond. Not to mention — why is it only one piece of gum? Why just that one? Questions surround this old candy shop, and not one of them has ever been revealed.

"Here you go," he says, his voice softer. I don't say anything, just look at him still confused. Then he gently pushes the cage and key across the counter.

"I... wait what—"

"Take it," Mr. Goodwin says.

"But I—"

"Just take it," he insists, pushing them closer to me. I try protesting, but the shop owner obviously won't listen. "It's meant to be you," he says. "I've found you. You're it's rightful owner."

That makes absolutely no sense to my fifteen-year-old mind, but then, he's crazy right? I shrug it off.

I bite my lip and reluctantly take the key and cage in my hands, being careful not to break it. I get a huge sense of fragility with these.

It's only when I turn to leave that I realize how quiet it is in the shop. I slowly look around to see everyone in the store staring at me and the owner, totally, utterly shocked expressions on their faces. I can feel my face heating up so I hurriedly go out of the candy store.

In the short time it takes for me to get from Goodwin's to my house, I figure out what I'll do: I'll put it on my desk, forget about it, then if I come to it I'll use the piece of gum for its purpose. If I feel like risking my life; because of its "magic".

My fingers fidget with the key, rubbing it between my fingers and twirling it around. I recently learned that I fidget all the time because this one guy who's always mean to me asked me last Wednesday, "Do you ever stop moving?" Technically the answer is no, because I'm alive and if I wasn't moving I'd be dead, but you know what he means.

When I arrive at home, I twist the knob, expecting my mom or dad to be at home. But to my surprise it's locked, so I go around back to the garden. I find the hiding rock after a minute and take the key out from inside the sliding compartment located underneath the stone. Then I go back around to the front and unlock the front door before returning the key back to its rightful home.