by Michael Bray
“I would, but I’m a little pushed for time.”
“Oh come on Bill, surely a few minutes rest won’t harm? Anyway, our gas station attendant is right here at the fete. I’ll show you around and introduce you so you can be on your way.”
Clayton slapped Norton on the shoulder and steered him towards the fete, taking all arguments out of the equation. Norton didn’t fight too hard, he was, after all, pretty peckish.
“So, Mr Candy, is this your town?”
“Oh no, not at all. I’m just the Mayor. My great, great granddaddy founded Candyland way back. I’m just the latest in a long line of Candy’s running the show here.”
The two walked past stalls selling various brick a brac. For every local that greeted Mayor Candy with a nod of the head, a wary eye was cast towards Norton. There was something unusual about the people, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Clayton went on.
“We're a small town Bill, and between you and me, I like it that way. We keep ourselves to ourselves and let the world go on without knowin' about us. Oh, you gotta try this.”
Clayton waddled over to the barbecue, which was immense and filled with sausages, burgers, steaks and chicken legs. It looked beautiful, and smelled even better.
“Franklin, this 'ere is Mr Norton, he’s new in town. Why don’t ya give him one o’ your special burgers?”
Franklin looked older than time itself, a withered shell with leathery brown skin and a distinct sprinkling of liver spots. But ancient or not, Norton appreciated the old man’s cooking skills, and gratefully accepted the giant burger offered to him.
“Ketchup?” The old man asked, holding the bottle towards Norton.
“Yes, thanks.” He said as the old man squirted a generous amount of sauce on the burger before replacing the top half of the bun. The burger was almost as wide as the span of his hand. It wasn’t some shitty processed McDonalds fare either, but a real, homemade burger in an actual bread bun.
“How much do I owe you?” Norton asked as he started to fish for his wallet.
“Oh, don’t ya worry about that. Take it as a welcome as our guest today.” Clayton said, once again pulling out his handkerchief to wipe away his sweat.
“Thank you, that’s very generous.”
“Go ahead and try it boy.” The old man said as he flashed a gummy grin.
Norton obliged, taking a large bite.
It was heaven.
The meat was succulent and juicy, the char grilled taste giving it a kick that was out of this world. Even though he had been fortunate to eat in some high class restaurants, Norton didn’t think any of them came anywhere close to the fare served up by the old man.
“My god, that’s amazing,” Norton said between mouthfuls as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand.
“Glad you like it son, it’s an old family recipe.”
“It’s delicious.” Norton said as he took another bite.
Clayton clapped Norton on the back and steered him away from the barbecue and further into the crowd.
“You married, Bill?”
“Divorced.” He said as he finished off his burger. “I had a wife for three years and she has been my ex for two.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay, she was a bitch.”
Norton laughed, and then saw that Clayton looked quite offended, so he morphed his laugh into a cough and hoped it went unnoticed.
They passed a stall filled with handmade wind chimes.
“Oh, Mr Norton, there’s someone 'ere I would like ya to meet.”
“Actually, I really have to be going, if you could just point me to somewhere I can fill up I'll...”
“Oh, this will just take a minute, then I'll personally take ya to Herb who will refuel you. Okay?”
Norton wanted to refuse, but Clayton seemed quite insistent, and actually a little put out by Norton wanting to be on his way. There was a glimmer of something in his eye, and just for an instant, Norton was afraid.
“Okay, but then I really must be getting going.” He said, wishing he wasn’t so easily influenced.
“Wonderful, right this way!” Clayton said, flashing an uneven yellow grin as he pushed his way through the crowd.
“Christine, oh Christine where are you precious?”
Norton followed, watching in amusement as the sweaty Mayor pushed his way through the crowd. He knew the instant she turned around who Christine was. She was obviously Candy’s daughter, and the two were almost dead ringers. Norton had to fight not to grimace as Candy’s ‘precious’ waddled towards them. She was aged somewhere between twenty and forty, and at least three hundred pounds, if not more. Like her father, she was sweating, and although she had tried to comb it across to hide it, her greasy black hair was thinning, receding from the front and making her forehead appear huge. Her features were almost exactly the same as her fathers, although they seemed somehow compressed into the middle of her flabby face. He didn’t like to ridicule people for their weight but the only description he could find for her that would fit, was piggish.
“Mr Norton, I would like to introduce my daughter, Christine. When I retire, she will become Mayor of Candyland.” Clayton said, beaming with pride.
“Pleased to meet you.” Norton replied as politely as he could, trying not to stare at just how huge she was.
“Hello.” She mumbled, not making eye contact with Norton and instead looking at her own immense shadow on the grass.
“Mr Norton 'ere is new in town. You go ahead and get him a drink now.”
“No, really Mr Candy, it’s fine, I really do have to be going, and if you could just show me where I can get that gas…”
Clayton glared at Norton, and actually looked angry. His cheek twitched once, and then the moment had gone, and he smiled.
“Of course, my apologies.” He said, wringing his hands together. “If ya wouldn’t mind keeping ma daughter here company for a few minutes, I’ll go and find Herb an' have him fill up that gorgeous caddy of yours and get you on ya way. Good enough?”
“Yes, thank you.” Norton replied as Clayton moved off into the crowd.
He didn’t want to stay in Candyland any longer. He was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable with the place. He noticed that although they were trying as best they could to hide it, everyone was watching him, taking secretive glances. And he had started to notice other things. How not only did Candy’s daughter look almost exactly like him, but most of the other townsfolk bore a resemblance to him too. He felt his stomach begin to tighten as he started to wonder if he might actually be in danger.
“Help me.”
Norton flicked his eyes towards Christine, and she was now looking at him, her narrow, blue eyes filled with hope and fear.
“Say again?”
“Help, me, please.” She whispered.
“Help you how? What do you mean?”
“Take me with you when you go. Please.”
“I’m sorry I don’t understand…”
“I’m a prisoner here. We all are.”
Norton’s already unsettled stomach rolled as he looked into Christine’s piggish face. She could almost have been beautiful in a way, had nature treated her differently. Norton had always considered himself a good judge of character, and was always sure he could read when someone was lying, which made the fact that he believed every word she said immensely disturbing.
“What do you mean, trapped?” He whispered.
“My daddy, he’s not a nice man.”
Despite the heat, Norton went cold as she spoke, wringing her tiny hands in the same way her father had earlier.
“Why don’t you leave, he can’t make you stay here if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head, and lowered her voice even further.
“He does bad things if you upset him.”
“What kind of bad things? And why don’t you go to the police?”
“Shh, he’s coming back.” She sa
id, licking her lips as she continued to wring her hands. “Look at Herb. That’s what happens if you upset him!”
Numb and unable to take in everything that had been said to him, Norton joined Christine in watching as Clayton approached.
He was pushing a skinny wretch of a man in a wheelchair. He had a dirty, salt and pepper beard, and his skin seemed to be wafer thin and stretched over his skull, exposing pale blue veins with stark clarity.
Look at Herb. That’s what happens if you upset him!
Christine’s words echoed in Norton’s mind, yet somehow he managed to find a smile as Clayton approached.
“''Ere we are.” Clayton said as he pushed the skeletal man to a halt in front of the pair.
“Mr Norton, this 'ere is Herb.”
Norton held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Herb didn’t move, he simply stared at Norton, his yellowed eyes betraying no hint of emotion.
“Now come on Herb.” Clayton said, laying a podgy hand on Herb’s shoulder. “That’s no way to treat our guest.”
Norton was sure he wouldn’t have noticed it, had Christine not told him about her father, but sure enough, he was certain Clayton had squeezed Herbs shoulder just a little too hard, his fingers digging a little too deep into his collar bone. Herb even registered a half grimace, and then like a well-trained animal, he held out a shaking hand.
“Welcome to Candyland Mr Norton.”
Norton shook the old man’s hand, which was dry and leathery. He just wanted to be on his way, to leave the residents of Candyland to whatever it is they did out here in the middle of nowhere.
“I uh, I was hoping to get some gas for my car.”
Norton was running on autopilot, his voice seeming to come from someone else.
“Pumps are down, but I got ya a couple of jerry cans to get ya on your way.” Herb said, jabbing a grubby thumb over his shoulder.
Norton could have reached out and kissed the wrinkled old man when he saw the cans hanging over the handles of the wheelchair, but kept calm even despite the way his heart pounded in his chest.
“Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“Oh no charge Mr Norton. Think of it as a courtesy gift from the people of Candyland.” Clayton said smoothly, unleashing that grin which now, to Norton, had a more sinister undertone as his impression of the man changed.
“That’s really very generous. I don’t mind paying my way, really.” He was going through the motions, saying what he knew he should say.
Does he know? Does he suspect you are on to him?
Norton asked himself the same thing, and took a moment to really look at Clayton. If he knew, he was hiding it well.
Screw it. Just get the gas and get the hell out of here.
For once, he didn’t try to ignore his inner voice. In fact, he thought it was a damn good idea.
“Are ya okay Mr Norton?” Clayton asked, watching him with sharp eyes.
“Fine, I’m just… Not used to such generosity, that’s all.”
The lie wasn’t great, but he thought it would suffice.
“Well.” Clayton said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s walk ya to ya car an' get ya back on the road.”
It was the best idea Norton had heard for a long time, and he had to force himself not to rush. The trio left Christine behind, Clayton pushing Herb and the precious gas as Norton walked alongside.
“So, what ya think of Candyland?” Clayton asked.
“It’s different to what I’m used to.”
“You from the city?”
“Yeah. L.A.”
“We manage to avoid all the troubles of the wider world here in Candyland. Nobody really notices us out 'ere on our slice of the world.”
“You must have some kind of trade though, right?”
Clayton glared, and again, Norton saw that little flicker of pure rage bubbling beneath the surface.
“Actually, ma family have worked 'ard to make sure Candyland remains entirely self-sufficient. We look after our own, and are quite happy for the world to go on without knowing we exist.”
Nobody knows I’m here.
It was the first time such a thought had entered Norton’s head, and the reason for it was simple.
Clayton Candy scared him.
As a physical presence, he wasn’t in the least bit intimidated, but there was something about him that was making the hairs on the back of Norton’s neck stand up as they picked their way through the crowd. He no longer wanted to speak to Clayton, and with Christine’s words still fresh, he turned to Herb.
“Mind if I ask what happened?”
Herb opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Clayton interjected.
“Ol' Herb 'ere had a nasty fall around twenty years back. Broke his spine in three places.”
Norton looked at Clayton, searching his face for any hint of a lie.
“Can't Herb speak for himself?”
“Oh he can, but he doesn’t like to say much these days. Do ya Herb?”
“No, Mr Candy sir.” Herb said, looking at Norton with such desperation, that he decided not to push the subject.
The trio walked back past the barbecue, which despite everything still smelled as good as ever. Norton could see the blue paintwork of the caddy, glittering in the sunlight, and his mood lifted at the thought of leaving such a backwards little town behind.
“Oh my…”
Norton’s Cadillac was exactly where he had left it, except now it was without wheels. They had all been removed, and the car was propped up on bricks.
“God damn it! God damn kids!” Clayton raged, looking into the throng of people at the fete.
“Messin’ with our guests like this, wait till I get my hands on the little bastards…”
For all of Clayton’s flapping and making a show of his dissatisfaction, Norton was more interested in Herb’s reaction.
Unlike Clayton, he didn’t seem in the least bit surprised.
For the next few hours, Clayton made a song and dance about trying to find out who had removed Norton’s wheels. He stalked around the fete, asking questions, and demanding answers. Norton was certain that the entire performance was for his benefit. He leaned against his car, watching Clayton stalk around the fete, and keeping a watchful eye on the sun as it started to get lower in the sky.
“Mr Norton?”
He looked at Herb.
“Yeah?”
At first, he didn’t respond. He simply sat in his wheelchair, chewing at his filthy, overgrown thumbnail. Just when Norton thought that he had only imagined Herb speak, the old man looked at him, his eyes wide and frightened.
“This is how it always goes.”
“How what goes?”
“'Ere in Candyland. It always works like this.”
“What is it Herb? Tell me what to do and I can help you.”
The old man smiled without humour and shook his head.
“Ain’t nobody 'ere who can help you, me or anyone else.”
“As soon as I get back on the road, I’ll come back. I’ll bring help.”
“You don’t get it do ya son?” Herb said as he held Norton’s gaze. “You ain’t never getting outta Candyland now.”
Clayton walked back towards Norton, shaking his head.
“I really do apologise for this, I promise ya I'll find the culprits and they will suffer the consequences.”
“It’s okay. Does Candyland have a garage? Someone who can fit me some new wheels?”
Clayton squirmed, and Herbs words returned to the forefront of Norton’s mind. “Actually we don’t, nearest garage is in Shadowlands, and that’s a good thirty miles back in the direction ya came from.”
Norton checked his mobile, hoping against hope that there would be a signal, but he hadn’t had one for the last hundred miles, and sure enough, out here in the middle of nowhere, he had no service.
“Damn it.” He said as he shoved the phone back into his jeans pocket.
“Tell
ya what.” Clayton said. “Since it’s getting late in the day, how about you stay the night 'ere in Candyland? Then first thing in the morning I’ll get someone out 'ere to repair this beautiful caddy of yours, and ya can be on ya way.”
You ain't never getting out of Candyland now.
“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I really have to be on my way. Perhaps there’s a phone I can use?”
“As ya saw from your own mobile, we don’t get much of a reception 'ere in Candyland. We only 'ave one phone, but unfortunately, my cousin Jacob has taken it with him outta town with him. He won’t be back 'til late I’m afraid.”
“I can wait, I don’t mind hanging around until he gets back with the phone.”
“Look, there ain’t no phone and there ain't no garage.” Clayton spat, his face twisting into a furious sneer.
Norton couldn’t hide his shock this time, and thought that this was perhaps his first look at the real Clayton Candy. Candy, for his part, recovered quickly, and reverted to a wide, fixed grin, as he wiped at his sweaty face.
“What I mean to say is, we are just a small town, and we can't do much until morning. As soon as Jacob comes back, we can get ya on ya way.”
Norton was growing angry, and the oppressive heat only seemed to be fuelling his frustration.
“Are you sure you aren’t trying to keep me here Mr Candy?”
Clayton’s cheek twitched and he slid his eyes towards Herb, then back to Norton.
“Course not. Ya free to do whatever ya want to Mr Norton. As I said, if ya want to walk, Shadowlands is thirty miles back the way ya came. Next town in the opposite direction is Freeborough, but that’s a good eighty miles. If ya do decide to walk, then I ave to advise ya to be careful after dark. Some of the local critters 'ere wouldn’t think twice about setting upon a person if he was out there at night.”
“Then it looks like I’m staying the night. Is there a motel here in Candyland?”
Clayton’s mood changed instantly, and he reverted to grinning widely. “Excellent! I’m afraid we 'ave no motel 'ere, but you can spend the night at ma home. I’ll 'ave ma daughter make up the guest bedroom for ya.”
“Thank you.” Norton said, his uneasy feeling growing by the second.
He glanced at Herb, who was staring at him, his eyes pleading a mixture of fear and horror. Clayton saw it too.
