The Fall of Candy Corn

by Debbie Viguié

  “Hi!” Kurt said, as she stood up. “Let’s go get some food.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She fell into step beside him.

  “How was class?”

  “Brutal. It’s hard to pay attention to the lecturer. He speaks really softly and laughs at jokes only he gets.”

  “At least he laughs,” Candace said, thinking about her monotone history professor.

  “I’ve got to write a paper for his class, and I have no idea how I’m going to pull that off.”

  “How long does it have to be?” Candace asked.

  “Five pages.”

  That didn’t sound too bad. “What’s it on?” she asked.

  “The American Revolution.”

  “What about it?”

  “Anything about it.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be too bad. You know all kinds of stuff about that time period,” she said, still not sure why he thought the assignment was going to be hard.

  “It’s awful. How am I supposed to figure out what to write about? I mean, they write books on the topic. How am I supposed to write something meaningful in five pages?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to be meaningful,” Candace suggested. “Or maybe you could just pick one thing to write about like a specific battle or one person. You could write about Benjamin Franklin. Of course, I’m not sure that you could use an interview with him in the History Zone as a resource,” she joked.

  “It’s not funny,” Kurt said, sounding grumpy.

  “Sorry,” Candace said. “I was just trying to cheer you up.”

  “You want to cheer me up? Say you’ll write the paper for me.”

  “Now who’s joking?” Candace asked with a laugh.

  Kurt didn’t smile. He couldn’t possibly be serious, could he?

  “So, where are we eating?” she asked quickly.

  “Campus cafeteria.”

  “That should be fun.”

  “Wow! If you think that’s fun, you need to get out more often.”

  “It will be fun,” Candace protested. “We’re together. And besides, who knows if we’ll have any time for dates until November.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and it made her feel good. They were almost to the cafeteria when Candace spotted a familiar figure.

  “Hey, Sue!”

  “Oh, hi!” the other girl said, looking startled.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to school here,” Sue said.

  That seemed odd. Over the summer Sue had said she was getting ready to start Cal State.

  “So, not Cal State then?” Candace asked.

  Sue shook her head. “This is cheaper. Plus I can get my prerequisites out of the way.”

  “Oh. So, how are things?”

  “Busy,” Sue admitted. “I’m running to class.”

  “And we’re running to the cafeteria,” Kurt said, grabbing Candace’s hand and tugging.

  “Well, see you at The Zone,” Candace said, as Kurt pulled her forward.

  “Okay!” Sue called over her shoulder.

  They made it into the cafeteria, which was large but crowded. Candace snagged a table while Kurt got the food. He returned a few minutes later with hamburgers and sodas.

  “It’s a good thing you’re not a picky date,” he quipped.

  “I am picky. I picked you,” she said, pleased with herself.

  He smiled and reached for her hand. “That’s why you’re the best. So, what’s going on with you?”

  “Oh, school’s been hectic. My drama class has been cool. The teacher mostly speaks in movie quotes.”

  “That’s funny.”

  “It is, actually.”

  She smiled at him. She wanted to tell him about her meeting with Mr. Anderson, but she hesitated. She realized she was too embarrassed to repeat what he had said about her . . . at least to Kurt. She had been the one to push Kurt to go to community college; she wasn’t ready to admit that her guidance counselor had challenged her drive to attend college herself.

  “So, are you liking college?” she asked instead.

  He shrugged. “It’s school. I’ve never been fond of school.”

  She looked down at her plate. “I’m sorry if I forced you to do something you didn’t want to do,” she said.

  “You were just trying to look out for me,” he said.

  “Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Everything Candace wanted to talk about — school, Lisa playing her in the maze, college — all seemed fraught with potential disaster. She was crazy about Kurt, but sometimes talking to him didn’t go as well as she would hope. She guessed that, just like any relationship, it took time to work it all out.

  When they had finished, she walked with him toward his next class. “I almost forgot,” he said, breaking the silence, “my roommates and I are throwing a Halloween party the Wednesday before Halloween. That way it won’t interfere with Scare stuff. Do you want to come?”

  “I’d love to,” she said, blushing. It would be their first official event they went to as a couple. “What should I wear?”

  “It’s a costume party, so come in costume.”

  “What costume are you going to wear?” she asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  She was on the verge of suggesting that they try and coordinate costumes when he glanced at his watch. “Gotta run,” he said, pecking her on the cheek before disappearing into the building.

  She sighed. As dates went it wasn’t great, but it would have to do until the party.

  When she got home her dad looked at her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It’s just hard juggling everything, you know? School, work, church, friends, boyfriend. How am I supposed to find time for everything?”

  “You learn how to prioritize,” he said. He looked at her more closely. “Is this really about you being too busy or did something upset you?”

  “I wish I could spend more time with Kurt,” she admitted.

  “Ah, most girls wish for more time to spend with their boyfriends,” he said with a smile.

  She sat down on the couch. “Yeah, but it’s weird. Even when we do spend time together it doesn’t feel like quality time.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Tonight, I met him for dinner at the community college, and we ate in the cafeteria in between his classes.”

  “Sounds good so far.”

  “But all we really did was eat. We hardly talked at all.”

  “Is that normal for the two of you?”

  “It seems so,” she said. “I mean we talked a little more over the summer, but it was all the ‘tell me about your family’ and ‘what’s your favorite color?’ stuff.”

  “And you wish you could talk about more with him?”

  “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat, and she turned to look at him. “At the risk of being accused of not wanting you to date, may I make a suggestion?”

  “Yes,” she said, curiosity rushing through her.

  “I think maybe Kurt isn’t the guy for you.”

  She blinked several times. “What makes you say that?”

  “You’re obviously not fulfilled by the relationship. There’s nothing really wrong, and yet you’re not deliriously happy when you come home from a date with him.”

  He wasn’t wrong, and there was no use trying to deny that. “What do I do?” she asked.

  “As I see it, you have two choices. You can spend more time hoping that something magical happens between you, which is less likely the more time passes, or you can break up with him.”

  “I don’t like the sound of either of those,” she admitted.

  “That’s the problem with life. It rarely gives you neat decisions wrapped up in shiny paper with a bow on top. Most of the important decisions in life are messy.”

  She nodded.

  “J
ust, think about what I said.”

  “Okay, thanks, Daddy,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stood up and gave him a quick hug before heading up to her room. It was too much to think about for the moment. She knew she was acting like a coward, but she just needed some more time to make up her mind.

  12

  The next day after school, Candace headed over to The Zone. Martha had left a message on her phone asking if they could meet and talk about Sugar Shock at four. Candace decided to take advantage of the hour she had to hunt for Becca. She found the other referee at her post in the Muffin Mansion.

  “Long time no see,” Candace said to Becca, giving her a quick hug.

  “I know! I was beginning to think you had found another muffin supplier,” Becca teased.

  “Never!

  “What can I get you?”

  Candace looked at the vast display of muffins for a moment before making up her mind. The Muffin Mansion always had a huge variety of muffins available. In the spirit of Halloween, though, most of their muffins looked monstrous. Some were hideously deformed, others were gigantic, one type had nodules on either side that reminded Candace of the bolts on the neck of Frankenstein’s monster. There were orange muffins, black muffins, and muffins with fake spiders on top.

  “I’ll try the pumpkin spice.”

  “A seasonal specialty,” Becca said. “Excellent choice. Can I interest you in a specialty butter to go with it?”

  “What is a specialty butter?” Candace asked.

  “It’s this new thing we’re trying out. We unveiled it at the end of September,” Becca explained. “We have created several specialty butters that can be paired quite nicely with certain muffins.”

  “And specialty butters are better than butter butter?”

  “Absolutely. For example, I recommend pairing the pumpkin spice muffin with the cinnamon butter.”

  “Oh, that does sound good,” Candace said.

  “And it is.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

  Becca put her muffin in a bag along with a little container of butter and a plastic knife. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

  “Some advice would be helpful,” Candace admitted.

  “Well, you’re in luck. I just got off work like ten seconds ago.”

  “What do I owe?” Candace asked, reaching for her purse.

  “It’s on the house. I still don’t eat my daily free muffin,” Becca said.

  “Sorry, I can’t hook you up with sugar anymore,” Candace said.

  “It’s not your fault. Let’s go someplace we can talk.”

  They found a quiet bench in the park where they could talk undisturbed. Candace pulled her muffin out of the bag and started munching. “Wow! You’re right, the cinnamon butter really makes this.”

  “Told you,” Becca said, grinning. “I worked on that one myself.”

  Candace wondered briefly how she managed to do that without tasting anything with sugar in it. She decided to let it go. She had other things she wanted to talk about.

  “So, what can I help with?” Becca asked.

  “I guess I just needed someone to talk to. Life has been . . . frustrating lately.”

  “And so, naturally, I’m the first person you thought of,” Becca joked.

  Candace smiled. “Yes, actually. I consider you a friend, and I thought you could be more objective than Tamara or Kurt or even Josh.”

  “Okay, I’ve got my objective hat on,” she said.

  Candace took a deep breath.

  “I feel stuck in a way. I have all these questions, and every time I try to get answers I only come up with more questions.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  Candace laughed bitterly. “I had a meeting with the school’s guidance counselor. I was hoping he’d help me sort out what college I’m going to go to. Instead, he questioned that I should even be going to college. He told me I never applied myself at anything.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Then I had the accident in the maze, and suddenly I’m back to cart duty. It’s like I keep taking gigantic steps backward.”

  “Did you ever consider that maybe you are where you are for a reason?” Becca asked.

  “There’s a reason for me being behind a cart?” Candace asked skeptically.

  “Probably. Remind me some time to tell you how I came to work at the Muffin Mansion. It’s a long, strange story. It taught me that everything has a purpose.”

  “Okay.”

  “So what else you got?”

  “I’m stressing about Kurt. Things just don’t look good down the road. I’m not sure how compatible his goals and mine are.”

  “I know what your problem is,” Becca said.

  “Really? Tell me.”

  “You’re going through a fall time in your life.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Fall, like the season, like right now. Fall is the transition period between summer and winter. Summer is fun and carefree and cheery. Winter is also beautiful, but it’s harder, not as carefree. You’re no longer a child, and you’re not really an adult yet. You’re going through a transition, just like the seasons.”

  Candace thought about that for a minute. It made sense.

  “What can I do about it?”

  “Stop fighting it. You can’t recapture your past anymore than you can speed up your future. Stop lamenting summer and stop trying to hurry winter. Just enjoy the fall.”

  “So, what should I do about Kurt?”

  Becca gazed at her, smiling and benevolent. “Only you can choose how to truly live and enjoy the fall. Tell yourself what to do.”

  “I’ve spent so much time thinking about a possible future with Kurt that I’ve never spent time and effort on our present.”

  “And one thing is for certain, if you don’t put forth any effort in the present, there is most certainly no future.”

  Candace shook her head. “What are you, the Yoda of The Zone?”

  “I like to think of myself more as Captain Jack Sparrow.”

  “Yeah, but you make more sense,” Candace laughed.

  “Only sometimes,” Becca said with a smile. “Just remember, crazy people often see the truth more clearly than sane ones.”

  “Thanks, Becca.”

  Candace glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a meeting with Martha. I should go.”

  “Have fun.”

  Martha had told Candace she would meet her in front of the castle. Candace left Becca and made her way to the History Zone. She arrived at the same time as Martha.

  “I’m so glad you made it,” Martha said, looking both happy and relieved.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Candace said.

  “Follow me,” Martha said. She turned and walked down one side of the castle and then stopped.

  “What is it?” Candace asked.

  Martha pointed at the wall.

  Puzzled, Candace took a closer look. Where Martha was pointing the bricks formed a particular pattern that looked almost like a door. Martha pressed her thumb against a brick next to the others and suddenly part of the wall opened inward.

  Candace gasped in amazement. Martha stepped through, and Candace followed her. They were in a small room with a stairway on the right and an elevator on the left. Martha headed up the spiral stairs and Candace followed her.

  When they reached the top, there was a massive wooden door barring the way. Once again Martha pressed her thumb to a brick next to the door and it too swung open.

  Candace stepped inside. It was as if she had just entered a fairy tale. There were a dozen couches done in rich royal blue fabric with gold fleur-de-lis on them. Through an archway, Candace spotted a long table that probably could seat forty comfortably.

  There were more openings to other rooms that became visible as she followed Martha deeper inside. Martha sat down on one of the couches and motioned for Candace to do the same. The couch was the most comfo
rtable she had ever sat on, and she felt instantly at home.

  “Welcome to one of the six Comfort Zones here in the park,” Martha said.

  “Wow! What are these places?” Candace asked.

  “They’re used mostly as corporate lounges. Sponsors and key employees are given access to them during their trips to the park. They also serve as meeting spaces for private events. And, occasionally, they serve other specialized purposes.”

  “And what purpose is this one serving?” Candace asked.

  “This is command headquarters where we can plan out every last detail of Sugar Shock,” Martha told her.

  Candace felt her eyes bulge. “Here, seriously? We get to work in here?”

  “Yes. On the way out, I’ll key your thumbprint into the doors so that you can come up here without having to hunt me down. Once Sugar Shock is over, of course, we’ll take your thumbprint out of the system. Go ahead, have a quick look around.”

  Candace stood up and quickly toured the rest of the Comfort Zone. There was a small room with a couple of cots in it.

  Another room held vending machines. There were also a couple of restrooms. She wondered briefly if Sue was responsible for cleaning them, or if there were other janitors who took care of the Comfort Zones.

  Candace returned to the main room. “Where are the other Comfort Zones around the park?” she asked.

  Martha shook her head. “We try to keep that quiet. I’m sure, however, that if you did some digging you could figure that out.”

  Candace nodded.

  “Now, I don’t have a lot of time right now, but I wanted to get you started thinking on a couple of things. We can meet again tomorrow night.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re going to need to recruit referees to work during Sugar Shock. Everyone works Halloween night, so working during the day on Halloween is strictly voluntary. Now, you’re going to find that most people aren’t going to want to volunteer. Be creative. Beg if you have to. We need at least seventy referees to pull this thing off.”

  “How many do we have now?” Candace asked.

  “Two.”

  “Two?”

  “Two,” Martha affirmed.

  “Two plus us?” Candace asked.

  “Nope. Just us. You and I are it.”

  “Oh, my.”