The Candy Shop War

by Brandon Mull

  “A little,” Nate said. “Sort of tingly. It tastes really good. I almost feel . . .”

  He moved to take a step and floated up into the air. He rose slowly, his feet reaching the height of Trevor’s eyes before he drifted downward to land gently on the ground.

  “ . . . lighter,” Nate finished, bewildered.

  They stared at each other in awed silence.

  “They really are magical,” Pigeon finally murmured.

  Nate tried a little hop, and this time he glided over Summer’s head, landing softly on the other side of her. He could almost have reached some of the overhanging branches of the trees. “It’s like I’m on the moon,” Nate said. “You know, the way the astronauts look on TV, bouncing around in low gravity.”

  “Moon Rocks,” Trevor said. “I want to try.” He stuck his candy into his mouth and jumped hard. He launched up into the limbs of the tree above, catching hold of one to stop his ascent. “Whoa!” he called from his lofty perch. “It felt like I was heading into orbit.”

  “I’m not sure Moon Rocks is the right name,” Pigeon said, examining his piece of crystallized sugar. “The gravity on the moon is roughly one-sixth that of earth. Which means you could jump six times higher there than you could here. But that branch is more than six times higher than Trevor can jump. And he was still heading up when he caught hold.”

  “And you say you’re not a brain?” Nate said.

  “I just like books about space,” Pigeon apologized.

  “How do I get down?” Trevor asked. “This is freaky.”

  “Just drop,” Pigeon said. “Since you jumped up there, it should feel no worse than falling a couple of feet.”

  “I don’t know,” Trevor fretted. “What if it stops working? I could break my legs.”

  Taking aim, Nate jumped toward the branch Trevor was clutching. He did not jump with everything he had, just a solid leap. He glided up through the air, feeling almost weightless. As he reached the apex of his trajectory, Nate came alongside Trevor and caught hold of the same limb.

  “Watch,” Nate said, letting go and floating to the ground, gradually gaining a little speed. He landed just hard enough to make his knees bend a little. Trevor let go of the branch and landed the same way.

  “You guys have to try this,” Trevor said.

  “Maybe we should save ours,” Summer said. “They might come in handy when we’re out on adventures.”

  “Mrs. White acted like we could get more,” Pigeon reminded her.

  “For how much?” Summer replied. “A billion dollars?”

  “Just try it,” Nate urged. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

  Summer’s eyes hardened and she stuck the Moon Rock into her mouth. Pigeon did likewise. They both took a few experimental leaps. Pigeon could not stop giggling. Nate and Trevor bounded around as well.

  “What if the candy really is drugs?” Pigeon asked. “What if we only think we’re jumping really high because our minds are warped?”

  “You saw me jumping high before you tried the Moon Rock,” Nate pointed out.

  “Oh, yeah,” Pigeon said.

  “Over here,” Summer called. She stood at the brink of the steep bank above the creek. The others loped over to her with long, slow-motion strides. “Who wants to jump it?”

  At this point the bank of the creek was more than ten feet high. The far bank was lower, and almost thirty feet away. “Your idea,” Nate said.

  “I do everything first,” she complained.

  “I tried the candy first,” Nate pointed out.

  “Think I could get a running start?” she asked.

  “You’d have to back up,” Nate said. “You could take a few steps if you pace yourself.”

  “But carefully,” Trevor said. “If you misjudge, you could drift right into the water.”

  “If you fall, be careful how you land,” Pigeon warned. “It will only feel like you fell a little ways, but the creekbed is rocky.”

  Summer took a pair of long, low strides away from the creek and turned around. Keeping low, she started forward, pushing off tentatively with the first step, then much more forcefully with the second. Landing about four feet shy of the edge, she pushed off with all she had, soaring upward in a smooth, mild arc. She easily cleared the creekbed and had to fend off small branches before catching hold of a tree limb on the far bank. Letting go, she drifted to the ground. “Easy!” she challenged.

  Duplicating the strategy Summer had used, Trevor took two steps, but he leapt from the edge more gently and landed ten feet beyond the far bank, stumbling slightly. Nate copied Trevor and landed in almost the same spot.

  “I don’t know,” Pigeon said, staring down at the water.

  “It’s no sweat, Pidge,” Trevor said.

  “I don’t know,” Pigeon repeated.

  “Go for it,” Nate said.

  “Okay, okay.” Instead of backing up for a running start, Pigeon squatted and sprang, keeping his feet together. He rose very high but had little forward momentum. After he reached the zenith of his flight, his speed lazily increased as he descended toward the center of the shallow creek.

  Summer crouched and sprang, moving low and relatively swiftly on a course to intercept Pigeon. They glided past each other, just out of reach. Pigeon hit the water with a splash and ended up on his backside. Summer had not jumped very high, so she hit the side of the far bank. Pushing off from the dirt wall, she drifted back over the creek to land near Nate. Pigeon spat out his candy and waded out of the creek, his soaked jeans a much darker blue.

  “That was cool of you to go after Pigeon,” Nate said to Summer.

  “You came close,” Trevor said encouragingly. “I didn’t even think to try.”

  “How much of your Moon Rock has dissolved?” Summer asked Nate.

  “I still have a good amount,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m paying attention. I don’t want to run out in midflight.”

  Pigeon waddled over to them, pants dripping. “As soon as I spat out the Moon Rock, my weight returned to normal,” Pigeon reported. “I wonder if that means you guys would seem really light to me?” He grabbed Trevor under his arms and hoisted him into the air. “Wow, it feels like you’re made of Styrofoam!” He tossed Trevor, who sailed more than ten feet before landing lightly.

  “That’s pretty cool,” Nate said. “See if you can throw me like a football.”

  “No!” Summer warned. “Have you ever seen Pigeon throw a ball? No offense, Pidge.”

  “None taken,” he said. “She’s right, I’m not very coordinated.”

  “Check it out,” Trevor said. “Flying kick.” He jumped into the air and glided over to a tree, lashed out with his leg, and rebounded a dozen feet after striking the trunk.

  “Cool,” Nate said. “We should practice jumping sideways off stuff, like Summer did with the bank. Trevor sort of did it with that kick.”

  “You shouldn’t have spat out your Moon Rock,” Trevor said to Pigeon.

  “It’s okay,” Pigeon said. “You guys bounce around. I need to go change my pants anyhow. Seems like I’m always the one who ends up in the creek!”

  Chapter Four

  White Fudge

  Pigeon had plans to sneak in the front door. Since his mom was a homemaker with overprotective tendencies, he didn’t want to get caught in wet jeans again.

  But his cousin Nile was waiting out front astride his motorcycle. Nile had picked out Pigeon’s leather jacket. At seventeen, with his head shaved, he looked a lot better than Pigeon in studded black leather.

  “Where were you?” Nile asked. “Taking a swim?”

  “I fell in the creek.”

  “How’d the jacket go over?”

  “I sweated like crazy,” Pigeon said. “And I got teased. I decided not to wear it today.”

  “Those same bullies?”

  “Mainly.”

  “You ought to let me handle them,” Nile said.

  “No way, that’ll just make it worse.”
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  “I’ll just scare them. I’m not going to rough up sixth graders. I’ll threaten to beat up their dads.”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Pigeon said.

  “If you say so,” Nile approved. “Remember, it takes time for a new image to stick. And you can take the jacket off if it gets too hot.”

  “Okay.”

  Nile revved the engine of his bike. “Say hi to your dad.” He pulled out of the driveway and noisily accelerated up the street.

  Pigeon sighed. How could he be so clumsy with a cousin that cool? As Pigeon started up the steps, his mom opened the front door, a short, pudgy woman with thick black hair. She placed a hand over her mouth. “Paul, what happened to your jeans?”

  “I fell in the creek,” he said.

  “They were brand-new!” she panicked.

  “It was just water,” he said.

  “Filthy creek water,” she lamented, rushing down the steps to fuss over him. He wished he had a Moon Rock right then so he could fly away. She always made him feel like such a baby. “It may be time to give up playing down there.” He would have been worried, but she always said something like that after he drenched his shoes or got hurt.

  “I’m fine. I was playing with my best friends.” That was the right card to play. He had not had any friends until second grade. And it was only last year that his friendship with Summer and Trevor had become cemented. His mom had been worried about him—she was thrilled that he was finally socializing.

  “Well, come inside and get cleaned up. You need to be more careful down there. How was your day?”

  “Good,” he said, following her inside. “I got another trivia question right. Miss Doulin seems uptight but nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Where’s your jacket? You look so sharp in it!”

  “I didn’t wear it today. Everybody liked it so much last week. I didn’t want to look like a show-off!”

  His mom beamed. Although Nile had selected the jacket, his mom had paid for it. Pigeon hurried up the stairs to his room. He ditched his wet shirt and jeans and put on tan shorts and a T-shirt. He could hear his mom scolding his sister downstairs. He had two younger sisters, ages six and three. They gave his mom people to worry about besides him, for which he was grateful.

  Newly dressed, Pigeon slipped out the front door and hurried back to the creek. Upon reaching the jogging path, he noticed a single bubble the size of a baseball hovering near the Nest. It was peculiar, because instead of drifting it maintained an unwavering position about eight feet off the ground. Curious, Pigeon approached it. As he drew near, the bubble lifted higher, floating out of sight behind some trees.

  In the Nest, Pigeon found Trevor, Summer, and Nate sitting on the ground. “Pigeon!” Trevor said. “Welcome back!”

  “Were you guys blowing bubbles?” Pigeon asked.

  “No,” Summer answered. “Why?”

  “I saw a bubble floating just outside the Nest. I guess you finished the candy.”

  “It lasted pretty long,” Nate said.

  “We were just talking about going back to the ice cream shop,” Summer said.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Pigeon said.

  “I hope Mrs. White will give us more Moon Rocks now that we believe her,” Trevor said.

  “Who knows what other types of candy she might have,” Summer said.

  “I wonder why she isn’t world famous,” Nate mused. “If she can make magic candy, she should be a zillionaire.”

  “She probably wants to keep it a secret,” Trevor said. “Remember how she told us to try the candy when nobody was around?”

  “We’ve finally uncovered a true mystery,” Summer said. “There’s really only one way to find out more about Mrs. White.”

  *****

  The bell jingled when Nate opened the door. A tall, plain woman was paying for a caramel apple at the register. A pair of teenagers slouched at a table eating ice-cream cones. A male dwarf with spiky blond hair shaved flat on top was balanced on a stool placing candy boxes on a high shelf. Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon entered the store after Nate. Pigeon waited to hold the door as the tall woman exited.

  “How can I help you?” the middle-aged dwarf asked, hopping down from the stool and mostly vanishing behind the counter.

  “These are friends,” Mrs. White said, raising the hinged countertop. “Mind the shop for a moment, Arnie?”

  “You got it,” the dwarf said.

  Nate and the others passed behind the counter and into the cluttered back room. “You hired a helper,” Nate said.

  “I did,” Mrs. White replied. “And there will be more to come. I take it you tried the Moon Rocks.”

  “They were incredible,” Summer raved.

  “We seemed to jump a lot higher than we would on the moon,” Pigeon remarked.

  “Very observant,” Mrs. White approved. “The Moon Rocks reduce the effect of gravity between ten and twelve times, thus imitating an environment of considerably less than lunar gravity. Did you have fun?”

  “It was awesome,” Nate said. “It felt amazing jumping so high. We grabbed onto tree branches, and hopped over the creek, and we practiced pushing off stuff to leap sideways.”

  “I’m so glad it was enjoyable,” Mrs. White said, her smile creating deep dimples in her cheeks.

  “I fell in the creek,” Pigeon confessed.

  “We were wondering if you might let us try some more,” Trevor said.

  “Or some other magic candy,” Summer added.

  “What use would a sample be if there were no more candy to be had?” Mrs. White said.

  “Do you have lots of different kinds?” Pigeon asked.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mrs. White said. She lowered her voice, and her demeanor grew more serious. “I have more magic candy, but we must reach an agreement before I can share it with you. As you might imagine, magic candy is most difficult to produce, and my supplies are limited.”

  “I knew it,” Nate huffed. “It’s going to cost a fortune.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Mrs. White chided. “I know I’m dealing with children. I don’t expect you to pay for the candy in cash. Its monetary value far exceeds what even your parents could afford. I am willing to give you the opportunity to earn more candy by performing small services for me. And I expect you to keep the effects of the candy secret. Should you try to tell others what my candy can do, not only will I deny your story, I will never share magic candy with any of you again.” Her voice and expression softened. “I don’t mean to be stern, I just want to impress upon you how earnest I am about this. Can you keep my secret?”

  The kids all nodded. “What do we have to do for more candy?” Nate asked.

  “Your first task is easy,” Mrs. White said. “Since I’m starting up a new business, I recently whipped up a batch of one of my specialties—white fudge. I want you to distribute free samples to your family and friends. In return, I’ll give you a bag of Moon Rocks.”

  “Can we try the fudge too?” Pigeon asked.

  “There is a catch to eating the white fudge,” Mrs. White cautioned. “It tastes absolutely scrumptious. Once you taste one piece, your mouth will water for more. Which is why I give them away to drum up business. But the fudge has some side effects. It dulls the effectiveness of my magic candy. It also makes it difficult for those who eat it to notice the powers my special treats grant to others. So the fudge serves a dual purpose: It will entice your friends and family into my store, so I can remain profitable, and it will help them ignore any oddities resulting from the candy I give you.”

  “Will it hurt anybody?” Trevor asked.

  “The fudge is harmless,” Mrs. White assured them. “The only reason to avoid my white fudge is if you want magic candy to work on you. After you eat the fudge, sucking on a Moon Rock won’t make you a pound lighter.”

  “When will we get the Moon Rocks?” Nate asked.

  “Take home my fudge. Share it tonight with your par
ents, older relatives, and any other friends, and the bag of Moon Rocks, containing at least forty pieces, will be yours tomorrow.” She picked up a white rectangular box with “Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe” stamped in red and opened it. Inside were four large cubes of white fudge.

  Pigeon leaned forward to sniff the contents. “Smells good.”

  “I’ll give each of you two boxes,” Mrs. White said. “Make sure you emphasize where you got the fudge, and that our shop has many other goodies. And, just in case the temptation is too great, here is some dark fudge for each of you.” She handed each of them a dense square of brown fudge.