Joseph buried his hands in the pockets of the oversized coat. He shot a glance at Zoe, who nodded as if in reassurance. Well, if his twin sister said he could do this, then he could do this. Pinching his shoulder blades together, Joseph clomped toward Martin’s Dry Goods in his too-big boots. The Red Cross ladies had given them to him just last week and they shone in the sunlight.
They didn’t shine in the dim interior of Martin’s, though, Joseph noticed as he stepped inside. The powdery smell of flour sacks assaulted his nose. The acrid aroma of tobacco smoke spewing from the pipes of the men in the corner, huddled around the checkerboard, caused his eyes to water.
Joseph scurried to the candy section and gazed up at the towering shelves filled with lemon drops and chocolate squares. His mouth watered. He swallowed and looked around. He didn’t see Mr. Martin anywhere in the store. He must be in the back room. The men in the corner kept their eyes on the black and red wood chips that dotted the checkerboard. Mr. Doherty teetered toward winning today. He always picked the red chips, Joseph knew, and there were far fewer black chips on the board this afternoon.
Joseph examined the shelves. Would Zoe rather have chocolate squares or lemon drops? Joseph already knew what he wanted. The chocolate squares that always took forever to wash off his hands had been his favorites since Papa had brought a bag home one time.
I think Zoe will like the chocolate squares better, Joseph thought. After another swift scan of the store, he swiped two squares, stowing them away in his pockets.
“Stop right there, mister.”
Joseph froze.
Mr. Martin turned him around. Joseph gulped and watched the bear of a man’s expression shift.
Joseph glanced at the corner. Mr. Solomon had only one black chip left on the board. He never would forfeit. “Always go down fighting,” Mr. Solomon always said. Papa said the Great War had made him that way.
No help was going to come from that corner.
And Joseph seriously doubted that ‘going down fighting’ would work now.
Mr. Martin bent to meet Joseph’s eye, like Papa did when he was teaching Joseph something new.
“Joseph, did you steal some candy?”
Joseph nodded once.
“And stuffed them in that big coat?”
Another nod.
Mr. Martin held out his hand. Joseph’s jaw dropped to his chest as his fingers shuffled through the mile-long pocket to hand Mr. Martin back the candy.
“Why would you do something wrong like that, Joseph?”
Joseph glanced behind him, but he couldn’t see Zoe. “My sister and I wanted some.”
“Zoe is outside waiting for you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Martin sighed. “Tell you what, Joseph. I’m going to give you two pieces of candy, one for you and one for Zoe. That’s your reward for being honest. But stealing is wrong, son, and your coat isn’t allowed in here ever again, not even when you’ve grown into it.”
Joseph nodded, then looked up at the big man. Mr. Martin’s eyes twinkled as he handed Joseph back the candy.
A grin split his face. A reward!
Just wait ‘til he told Zoe!
