Licorice Sticks and Church Clothes

“Is there somethin’ I can help ya with there young'un’?” The store clerk said, looking at the young boy over the counter. His country drawl was thicker and more profound after a long, busy day in the store. The clerk smiled kindly at the boy, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners as he braced his rough, calloused hands on the counter he stood behind. 

The boy had just entered the small building and it was almost time for the clerk to close the store for the day. The boy shuffled his feet nervously and turned his hopeful blue eyes up to the clerk. The young boy looked to be around ten, his blond hair peeking out from beneath a red baseball cap. He reminded the clerk of his own sons at home, waiting for him to come home soon.

“Y-yes sir,” the boy said, steadying his voice and straightening his back.

The store clerk looked at the wall clock to his left, his shift ended in two minutes. He hoped the boy would make this exchange a quick one. 

“I was wondering if y’all were still hiring?” the boy cleared his throat. “I-I saw the sign in the window. And I wanna help. ”

The clerk looked at the window and at the ‘Help Wanted’ sign that sat there, the words painted in big red letters. The store clerk gazed at the young boy skeptically, looking him up and down. He seemed a bit skinny, the boy’s shirt seemed to hang off his bony shoulders like a curtain. Additionally, upon closer inspection from the clerk, the boy’s shoes seemed to be falling off his feet and his clothes were stained and dirty. He wondered what the boy thought he could help with in a small general store on the bank of the Mississippi River in this day and time. It was the ‘60s for crying out loud. “Does yur mama know yur down ere’? It’s gettin’ pretty close to suppertime ain’t it?”

The boy looked at the floor and shuffled his feet again, “no sir, but I swear me being down here won’t get me in any sort of trouble.” The boy pointed behind the clerk into the storeroom. “I reckon it’s a huge mess in there, ain’t it? If you want I could sort it out for you. It wouldn’t be any sorta trouble at all mister.”

The store clerk glanced behind him into the backroom he had spent all afternoon tidying, then at the store around him. The hardwood floors, wood paneled walls, and the aisles of food, candy and other items for sale seemed to swallow the little boy up in its vastness. The air conditioning unit by the window behind the cluttered counter cut through the silence as the man made his quiet observation of the room and the boy standing there. The clerk tried to imagine the small boy working here, as his coworker, and couldn’t. He turned back at the little boy and rubbed his brow with his forefinger and thumb. “I appreciate the offer there, little man but the position has already been taken. The boss hired Randy this mornin’. I should’ve taken the sign down earlier.” 

“W-what about these?” the boy reached into his pocket and lifted out a small frog. His eyes were proud but also there was a desperation in the way he pressed his lips together, imploring the clerk to take his offer. He cupped his hands over the small animal quickly to keep it from jumping away, “y’all sell bait right? I could get you a bunch of these guys, or bugs if you need those. Or-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there kid,” the man lifted out a hand and set it on the boy's shoulders, trying to find the words to put him down as gently as possible. “We cain’t take them frogs o’ yurs if ya bring em ‘ere.”

“But why?” the boy asked.

The man shrugged and glanced at the clock. His shift was now over and he did not want to get into the details regarding distribution of goods with a ten year old, “it just ain’t how the boss does things ‘round ‘ere.”

The boy’s shoulders dropped in resignation as he mumbled out an “oh.”

The store clerk couldn’t help feeling sorry for the boy. He reached into a jar of licorice sticks on the counter and held one out to the boy. “Hey, chin up son, ye got a couple years left before ya gotta start workin’ anyway. There ain’t no rush ya know. Take this ‘ere as a treat, alright?”

The boy nodded as he put the frog back in his pocket. He accepted the candy and turned away from the counter dejectedly.

The clerk sighed, finally able to pack up and go home for the night. He was half-starved to death and couldn’t wait to eat what his wife had cooked for dinner before sitting in his recliner by the fire to rest his aching limbs. But just as he turned away, the boy came scrambling back to the counter. “Wait! Sir! What ‘bout yourself?”

The clerk turned around, puzzled. “Me?” he repeated, “whaddya’ mean?”

“Is there anything you need done ‘round your place?” The boy was a bundle of nervous energy, renewed hope in his eyes. “I won’t charge much, and I’m very handy. I-I could-”

“Why don’t ya ask yur father what can be done ‘round yur own house?” the store clerk asked. He didn’t mean to be snappy but he was anxious to get home, he didn’t have the patience to listen to this for much longer.

“Please sir,” the boy begged, “I-I’ll do anything.”

The store clerk gave the boy a pat on the shoulder over the counter, “look son, I wish I could help ya’, I really do. But-”

“Please,” the boy tried again. The boy grabbed the clerk’s hand and squeezed. The clerk could see tears in the boy’s eyes now. “I just need something to do sir. I don’t need much money, just enough to take some pressure off mama.”

The store clerk tried to console him, “Yur mama is mighty grateful for all ya tryna do for ‘er son, but surely yur pa oughta be-”

The boy shook his head, cutting the store clerk off. “Mama’s sick and still workin for me an’ lil Adelaide,” the boy explained, emotion creeping into his voice. He looked at the ground as he added, “haven’t seen my dad for a few months now.”

The store clerk was silent and he slowed down and paid closer attention. His rush to get home momentarily forgotten.

“Please,” the boy pleaded, “I just wanna give my mama a break. That’s all. And-and it’s her birthday next month, I thought I might finally have the money to…” the boy trailed off, shaking his head.

The clerk just then realized how much he had to be thankful for. He took a moment to silently thank the lord for his blessings. His beautiful wife, children, his house, and their health most of all. He looked at the small boy before him and wondered how many blessings the child could count off. The clerk’s heart softened at the thought and he blew out a breath “What’s yur name son?” he asked.

“Dakota Winston, sir,” the boy said. 

“How old are ya?”

“Twelve,” Dakota said. He looked up at the clerk, tears shining in his eyes.

The clerk blinked in surprise, he had been sure this kid was no more than ten. The revelation hardened his resolve.The store clerk grabbed another stick of licorice for the boy, “give this one to yer sister alright?” 

Dakota nodded and grabbed the candy, his spirits dampening once again before the store clerk said:“ya know where the ole’ church by Sycamore is?”

The boy nodded again, a bit more eager this time.

“Tomorrow, I want ya to go down that there road behind it and take a left once ya reach the bridge, ya hear?” the clerk instructed.

Dakota’s eyes widened hopefully and it crept into his voice as he said: “yes sir.”

“Down that away is my house,” the store clerk said before he could change his mind, “the shed by the garden behind the house is in need of a paint job, can ya’ do that for me? I’ll pay ya well.”

The boy let out a small gasp, a smile spreading on his face. He gripped the candy in one hand and jumped up and down a few times, “yes sir, yes sir! I promise I won’t let you down!”

The store clerk laughed heartily at the boy’s response. “I’ll see ya’ bright ‘n early then?”

“Yes sir!” Dakota bounced on the balls of his feet, “I’ll be there!” He rushed out the door, the bell jingling before bursting back inside and rushing up to the counter. He shook the clerk’s hand and smiled at him. “Thank you,” he said before rushing out again, not giving the clerk time to respond. 

A few weeks later, after Dakota had spent time working small jobs for the clerk here and there, he bounded back into the shop with an older woman and a small girl in his arms. He shouted a quick greeting to the clerk then sauntered into the back to look at the candy while the older woman watched with a smile. To the clerk’s relief, the woman seemed to have recovered from whatever ailment she had been suffering from. Not only that but Dakota’s clothes seemed to fit him better than before, but that could have just been the clerk’s imagination. The clerk watched the trio out of the corner of his eye while attending to another customer.

“Pick out which one ya want, Addy,” Dakota said. “Do you like lollipops? Or chocolate?”

The clerk watched the woman glance into her purse, anxiety etched into her features. Before he could say anything to the woman, Dakota marched up to the counter with three licorice sticks and two chocolate bars. He gave the clerk a proud smile and announced, “I would like to buy please.”

“Dakota-” his mother came up behind him, guilt on her face and an apology on her lips as she put a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“It's okay, mama” Dakota smiled up at her, “I got it this time.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out more than enough money to cover the cost of the candy. He smacked it on the counter loudly and turned back to his shocked mother.

“Do ya want anything mama?” Dakota asked her, a smile still on his face, “it is your birthday after all.”

“Dakota, h-how?” his mother continued to look at her son with a surprised expression on her face.

Without explaining, Dakota bounded deep into the store and reemerged with some expensive fabrics heaped in his arms. 

“Will these work mama?” he asked, “I was thinking you could use this to sew some fine clothes for us. Then we will finally have clothes suitable for church that aren’t all dusty and patched up. Just like you wanted.”

The store clerk happily rang the family up, the mother still speechless. The clerk smiled but refrained from mentioning that he had helped the boy out. He would let Dakota have his moment of pride. The clerk no longer doubted that he had done a good thing, even if he did give Dakota more compensation than the work offered. The look of respect and gratitude on Dakota’s mother’s face spoke louder than words could and made up for the seemingly small financial loss the clerk would face.

“All set,” the clerk said smiling as he handed over the bag of fabric and candy to Dakota.

“Thank you,” Dakota said.

Just as the trio made to leave the shop, Dakota turned back to the clerk and tossed him a piece of licorice before following his mother and sister out the door.