Candy's Sweet

Marty hung on to the bar with both hands like he was on the deck of a boat in the middle of a raging storm. Too drunk to sit down, too drunk to stand, he pinballed between the barstool and the edge of the bar while waiting for someone to offer him another drink.

        It had been an unusually lucky day for Marty. Out of sheer frustration with life, himself, and especially gambling, he’d gone to the racetrack and picked a horse based on the name that he hated the most, Candy’s Sweet. He then put the last of his money down. Never a rich man for very long, the money also wasn’t really his. It was the last of a loan from Twin Cities’ own Ken Greedy, a businessman who didn’t really own a business. Marty had borrowed money from Ken Greedy before. Marty had also been late with payments to Ken Greedy before. Both his left and right hand were missing their middle fingers as a reminder to not to do that a third time. “I got a big family, Marty. I take care of a lot of people. You hurt my livelihood one more time, that’s it, you’re dead.“ That threat and the loss of his favorite fingers had scared Marty straight, for a few months. But addiction is a disease. And Marty is a sick man. Marty fled the Twin Cities for sunny California two weeks prior, with the last thousand dollars of Ken Greedy’s most recent loan in his pocket. Now his pocket held a ticket waiting to be cashed in for forty-four thousand dollars.

        It was such a lucky win that it was hard to keep it quiet at the track. That’s why he was waiting for someone to buy him another drink. Seven other people already had, people who had slapped him on the back and rubbed his head for good luck of their own, people who had urged him to let them buy him a drink, hoping their generosity towards him would bring them good luck for their next visit to the track. People who had also expected Marty to buy a round for the bar at some point. They kept hinting at it, but Marty was never great with social cues. Those same people had all left the bar by now, but Marty couldn’t tell because he could barely see two feet in front of his face and the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

        “I hear you won pretty big,” a muscular man with a fresh shave and perfect teeth settled on to the stool next to Marty.

        “You wanna buy me a drink, too?” Marty’s mouth split into a grin, showcasing his not-so perfect teeth.

        “Nope. But, I got a bottle of mezcal in my car.”

        “Then whadda we doin’ here?” Marty grabbed an empty shot glass off the bar and downed the one drop that was left inside.

--

Marty stumbled out of the bar and into a gaggle of six drunk women waiting for a taxi.

“Excuse me!” One woman, her heels dangling from one hand, pushed Marty backwards. He lands in the arms of his new stoic, muscular friend.

“Oh my god. You’re that guy!” The woman points excitedly at Marty’s friend. “You’re that guy from that thing!”

“Yeah, thanks for noticing.” He’s truly flattered.

“Girls! It’s the guy! From the thing!”

The gaggle quickly swarms on Marty’s friend and Marty is pushed to the side.

“You’re so hot in that scene. It’s too bad you got killed off in like the first 5 minutes of the series, oh my god. You should be a lead man.”

“Hey, you should tell my agent that.”

“Ah! And he’s hot and funny! Can we get autographs?” One of the women hands Marty’s friend her lipstick and taps the top of her right breast. “Right here, please.”

He signs with a chuckle.

The woman with the autograph bends her neck to read the signature. “What’s your name? Brian Breely?” The first woman with heels in her hand as her phone out as she cuddles up to Marty’s friend for a selfie.

“It’s Greedy. Brian Greedy.” He smiles as the camera flashes and the taxi arrives.

“Well, I’m greedy for Greedy! Can’t wait to see your next role! Hope it’s another sex scene!” The gaggle of girls jam into the taxi and blow kisses as the car drives off. Brian waves goodbye with a glimmer in his eyes.

“It’s crazy, I’ve been acting for over a decade, and this is the first time anyone’s recognized me in public. Gotta say it feels good. But, we got some business to take care of, don’t we, Marty?” Brian turns around. Marty has disappeared.

--

        Marty ran harder than he’s run in his entire life. He ran so hard he threw up three times before he finally had to stop because he was afraid his heart was going to explode. He ran for six blocks, threw up, took a sharp turn through a freshly-cut field where sprinklers were running, thew up, headed across a well-lit parking lot, threw up, then crawled to the first dark space he saw through his drunken vision.

The inside of a playground slide wasn’t the worst hiding place, nor was it the worst place spend the night. But it was a terrible place to wake up on a Saturday morning with a vicious hangover.

Birds were chirping, dogs were barking, kids were screaming. It was a nightmare that Marty was not ready to face. Some kid tugged on his foot that dangled out of the bottom of the slide. “You need to share. You need to shaaaaare.”

Marty yanked his foot back inside, causing the little boy to burst into tears. Marty curled into the fetal position while his brain rattled with the shaking play structure. Then, another kid came giggling down the slide, her feet ready for impact with Marty’s head.

        “God dammit!” Her little shoe went straight into Marty’s left eye. His hands shot up to cradle his eye. The little boy’s sobs mixed with the sound of a disgruntled parent in the distance calling out for his daughter with incessant shouts of “Evie”. He shifted his hands to cover his ears and muffle all the noise.

The little girl, stuck in the slide with Marty, stared down at him. “Isn’t that a bad word?”

“Get outta here!”

“No, it’s my turn now.” She crossed her arms and held a firm gaze with Marty’s bloodshot eyes. The man calling for his lost Evie got further away and the sobbing boy wandered off.

“Fine.” Marty wiggled his adult body down and out of the slide, ready to leave this hell-hole.

The transition from the dim light inside the multi-colored slide to the clear skies of the sunny day hit Marty like a bag of bricks. He struggled for a few seconds to get his eyes to fully open. The first thing he saw when he finally did was Brian Greedy.

“Fucking Greedy!” He shimmied his body back up into the slide. Brian Greedy was at the edge of the park in a fresh pair of khakis and a black muscle tee. One hand cupped over his mouth as he calla for “Evie”.

“That first one is definitely a bad word,” the little girl shook her head at Marty. “But the second one is not always a bad thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Marty was only half-listening to the little girl because he was also busy panicking, trying to figure out which way to run so Brian Greedy wouldn’t see him.

“Greedy. It can also be a last name and it’s not nice to make fun of it.”

Marty whipped his head backwards to study the little girl. “How do you know that?”

“I’m six. I know a lot of things.”

“Do you know someone with the last name Greedy?”

“Of course,” she stuck her hand out for a shake. “Hello, I’m Evie Greedy. What’s your name?”

“No, no, no. This is some Twilight Zone shit!”

“You’re supposed to say poo. Not the s-word.”

Marty twists his body inside the slide, straining to get a view out of the opening. He catches a flash of khakis.

“Evie?” Brian’s voice trails off as he walks away.

“Listen, Evie,” Marty whispers to the little girl, “go run to your daddy. He’s looking for you.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“How ‘bout I’m an adult and I say so.”

“If you don’t play with me, I’ll scream.”

“Don’t be stupid-“

The scream is sudden and high-pitched. Marty shimmies out of the slide as fast as he can, his life depends on it.

His right foot lands funny in the play sand below, he yells out in pain and grabs his tweaked ankle. Before he can stand up straight and hobble away, he feels a large hand on his shoulder.

“Marty. Are you this unlucky? Or just stupid?” Brian Greedy grips Marty’s shirt and pulls him to his feet. Marty starts to whimper.

“Daddy. Calling people stupid is mean.” Evie climbs out of the slide and throws her hands to her hips.

“Sorry, Evie honey, Daddy’s got a little business with this man, okay? Why don’t you just keep playing?”

“No. I want you both to play with me.”

“Honey, not right now-“

Evie starts her blood-curdling scream.

--

        Evie rocks happily back and forth on a pink horse with a large spring jutting from its stomach to a bolted plate on the ground. “Isn’t this great, daddy? New friends are fun!”

        Brian Greedy and Marty sit awkwardly on their own spring horses on either side of Evie. Evie snaps her head back to her dad with a furrowed brow, waiting for a response.

        “Yes, honey. It’s very fun.”

        Evie smiles then turns her head to the other side to address Marty. “Marty, my horse’s name is Sparkle and her superpower is um…,” she thinks hard about it before excitedly declaring “friendship!”

        Marty’s eyes shift warily from Brain to Evie. “Uh-huh.”

        “What about your horse? What’s his name?”

        Marty’s eyes go wide. He pats his pockets, then digs desperately into them with his hands. Every pocket comes up empty.

--

        The sobbing little boy has finally stopped sobbing. He wipes snot from his nose with the back of his arm, then studies a small piece of paper in his hands. He carefully sounds out the two word’s that catch his eye, “can-dy sweeeet.” A smile spreads across his face.