BELLYACHE: A Delicious Tale

Helping Papa

Helping Papa

          It was a school holiday and Peter Fischer had to spend the day working with his grandfather. His parents had jobs and Peter, now ten, felt he was too old for a babysitter. He had never been to work with Papa before. His grandfather owned a sweet shop. Papa’s Sweet Shop. Peter was excited. What fun he would have tasting all the luscious treats!

          Peter planned his day in his head. First, a cupcake with heaps of whipped cream icing. Then, several pieces of chocolate filled with all kinds of wonderful centers. Next, red licorice. He thought black licorice tasted gross; he only knew one person who liked it and that was old man Rupert. Old man Rupert lived a few houses down and was always in the garden, fiddling around with a piece of black licorice dangling out of the corner of his mouth—disgusting.

          After lunch, a peppermint, followed by a chocolate chip cookie, half a brownie—he wanted to save room for other sweets—Tootsie Rolls, and lemon drops. Then, he would take a break from eating and help Papa with the afternoon rush of customers. After the rush, a few gumdrops and gumballs—the blue ones of course—and then gooey taffy, followed by gummy bears and super sour gummy worms. Lastly, he would have his most favorite treat of all, creamy chocolaty peanut butter cups—two or three of them, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

          But Papa had a different plan for Peter.

          “Hello, Peter. I am so glad to have you as my little helper today. As a reward for your work, you may have three pieces of candy.” Papa grinned. “Go on now, pick out what you want and put them in the back for later.”

          “Just three?” Peter moped.

          “I think three is plenty. We don’t want you to get cavities or make yourself sick.” Papa smiled and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “Now go on, pick.”

          Just three, Peter thought to himself. What about all that planning he had done? Well, he would have to think about his choices ever so carefully. Peter took a small plastic plate down from the counter, already knowing one of his choices. He needed to pick the other two. He opened the case to the heavenly chocolates and was nearly knocked off his feet by the grand smells of the freshly made candies. How could he pick just three? He made his first choice, a milk chocolate chunk. He made his second choice, dark-chocolate-covered nougat. He was about to put his last choice, his creamy chocolaty peanut butter cup, onto his plate when he noticed Papa was busy with a customer. He grabbed another peanut butter cup and turned quickly to go to the back room. He put his plate down on the little table next to the picture of Papa and Nana on the wall. He turned around so he wasn’t facing the picture, and devoured the extra peanut butter cup before returning to the front to help Papa.

          Papa asked, “Are you happy with your choices, Peter?”

          “Oh yes, thank you, Papa.”

          “Good, now help me stock the gummy jars before the afternoon rush. Go and get the gummies in the back room,” Papa ordered.

          Peter saw the gummies stacked on a red wagon. He started to roll them to the front of the store when he thought he would have a couple super sour gummy worms and a few gummy bears. No one would ever know the difference. Peter gobbled them up on the way to the front. They were so yummy, and the worms were almost too sour, he was afraid Papa would see his scrunched-up face. But Papa didn’t. Peter stocked the gummies and helped Papa with a few customers.

          One was an incredibly tall woman with bright red hair and a sharp jaw.

          “Peter, come here.” Papa said. “I want you to meet Mrs. Nielson. She has been a customer of mine since the day we opened, and she comes in every Monday for a special batch of fudge. Go and fetch it in the refrigerator, please.”