Shanty Town Dreamer

Chapter

1

Penny Candy

She was nearly 13 years old when the 'great awakening' occurred. It was a time for tears, a time for confusion, but most of all it was a time to imagine possibilities. Unbeknownst to her, the errand her mother sent her on took her by one of the marketplace's cobblestone-floored stores where, for the first time, she'd find a window to the world. It was there she saw a glimpse, a blink of the eye vision, of a world she'd never seen before. It was a revelation.

Opening the door and walking up to the counter, the little girl's eyes were fixed on the small, but powerful box sitting on a shelf over behind the counter. Sounds were coming from the magic box, magical sounds, ones she had not heard before. The magic box was there for the amusement of the owner who, for reasons of his own, placed it there some time ago. Ole Mr. Sam was alone now after the passing of his wife. Having been married for over 47 years, her loss almost took him too. His business had been prosperous enough for him to purchase the small magical box even though by no means would his wealth retire him anytime soon. It was the life of the shopkeeper in a dreamless shanty town eclipsed by moss-filled oat trees whose branches created an umbrella over the entire market area.

In the squatter's area of Alabama, it was the law that those who chose to exercise their right had to have been a resident on the property for at least 10 years. In Hopewell, the squatters laid their claims to the abundant, but desolate terrain on the outskirts of the nearest large city. In this location, one filled with only survival, Felicity Craft and her mother lived alone with one other small child. Her father, whoever he was, left years before, right after the birth of Felicity's younger sister.

Even though the big city was within walking distance, her family never visited it. There wasn't any need to be highfalutin, a comment her mother shared more times than not during the course of her daily recitations. She dominated their lives. In that domination, she told them how the children should act or what they should say. She told them in her callous, bitter tone that they shouldn't expect anything out of life. For Felicity, the speeches went in one ear and out the other. She knew they were poor, dirt poor, but she also knew she wanted more out of life than just squatter's rights and a bowl of gravy. The continual lecturing about not thinking too highly of oneself grated on her nerves and her soul.

What was wrong with trying to do better?

What was wrong with using your mind, your thoughts, and your imagination to make your life better?

If she could do it, Felicity was determined to rise above the dirt, the squalor, and the depression that was suffocating them all.

"Hello!" called out the owner, ole Mr. Sam. He was kind to all the squatter children, slipping them a few small pieces of hard candy into their bags for a little surprise when they got home. He really couldn't afford to give anything away but due to his upbringing, he just felt good about it. He and his late wife had no children during their marriage. Therefore, he sort of adopted the dirty, flour-sack kids as his own. Besides, the children in the area had nothing. No one in the area had anything. Once the 'big city' began to decline, the fate of those remaining was sealed.

"City Girl" what you doin' here? Did your Mama send you out again? And, how is your Mama?" Ole Mr. Sam asked as he watched Felicity as she drew nearer to the magic box over the counter.

Turning to respond, Felicity knew ole Mr. Sam didn't mean any harm. He thought it was a good nickname for the little girl who wanted to be more than a squatter. She carried herself differently, her mind was sharp, her tongue even sharper.

"Mama's okay, busy with the other kid," she answered as she continued to look at the magic box.

"So how many brothers and sisters you got now, City girl?" ole Mr. Sam asked as he watched the little girl begin to lose interest in the magic box sitting over the counter.

"My Mama told me not say nothin' 'bout our family to nobody. She tells me that people don't need to know our business. And, she said other people need to mind their own business. That's what she told me." replied Felicity as she turned to get about buying what she came to get and waited for ole Mr. Sam to change the subject.

What her mama told her to get wouldn't be more than she could carry, never is. It wouldn't be much, just a small bag of flour and one stick of butter. It was nothin' much, but enough to put together to make some flatbread and water gravy. Felicity's mama made that a lot. She'd tell her and her sister that when you ain't got nothin' else, roll out some dough and make a little water gravy until things got better. But it seemed to Felicity that things weren't ever going to get better.

"My mama said for me to get a bag of flour, you know, one of those little ones likes settin' over there," revealed Felicity as she pointed to the cloth bags containing freshly ground flour on the counter just left of the magic box.

"My mama said she wanted the one with the flowers printed on it." she requested as she again pointed to the flour bags.

Turning to see which bags of flour the little girl was pointing toward, ole Mr. Sam couldn't help but recognize the same pattern of flowers on Felicity's dress. In the Deep South, especially during the depression and many years after, it wasn't unusual for mothers to use the flour sacks to make their children's clothes. In fact, it was perfectly natural given the state of affairs roundabout the shanty towns.

"Yes, that's the one!" shouted Felicity as she watched ole Mr. Sam pick up the least expensive bag of flour, the one with the daisies printed on it and placed it on the counter.

"Now, what else did your mama tell you to get?" asked ole Mr. Sam as he leaned forward toward the little girl transfixed in thought to make sure she didn't forget anything to take back home. It wasn't that far to walk to the little store, but walking it alone as dusk closed in was scary.

"I just need a stick of butter. It's got to be wrapped up real good or I'll get into trouble. You know, it has to stay cool till I get it home." instructed the thin little girl clothed in the only dress she had at the time. Maybe things would get better, maybe not, but for Felicity it was her life. It was a life that had no end in sight.

Gathering up the requested items, ole Mr. Sam wrapped the stick of butter with the best paper he had and placed it in the small paper sack alongside the flour sack printed with daisies. This would probably be his last customer of the day. Outside, evening's shadowy fingers stretched across the dirt road and paused at the bottom step of his makeshift store. Evening only meant one thing, the possibility of looters. And, for that reason, he kept his rifle loaded and ready beside his chair in the back room. He lived in the back of the store because he couldn't afford to buy a house or even a cottage. Besides, it was just him now, no family, and the back room was enough. He did his best to make ends meet and couldn't afford trespassers.

"Here ya go!" said ole Mr. Sam as he pushed the small bag containing the flour and the butter towards the other side of the counter where Felicity was standing. "That'll be 32 cents. And I'll throw in an extra sack because something got into one of my flour bags. Had to throw the flour away. So, here, take the sack. I'm sure your mama can find some use for it."

To Felicity, 32 cents was more money than she owned. Her mama took in ironing as best she could from time-to-time to keep scraps on the table for her kids. She'd set the flatiron on the small wood stove until it was hot enough to get the wrinkles out, then press the garments, fold them, and have them ready when the hired boy came to pick them up. It was hard work, but there weren't any jobs to be had. And, if the well-to-do wanted their clothes ironed and was willing to pay good hard cash, her mama took advantage of the offer.

"Here!" said Felicity as she held out her hand for ole Mr. Sam to count the money out. She didn't know much about 'rithmetic or countin'. The school wasn't a priority for the squatters, just survival. Ole Mr. Sam was trusted by the people who lived in the shanty town to do right by them. He only took what was due him and left the rest for another day.

"Okay! You're all paid up." said ole Mr. Sam as he placed the few pennies and nickles in the drawer behind the counter. "We're all settled up!" he added and smiled as he handed the bag to Felicity.

Grasping hold of the bag, she turned and faced the magic box again. Curious as to what it all meant, she couldn't help but ask what it was. "Can you tell me what that is, that magic box? I've never seen one before," added Felicity as she finished saying thank you for the items in the bag.

"Why, that's the newest thing out nowadays miss 'City'. It's called a television. Some just say TV for short. But it cost me a pretty penny I'll tell you. But, it shows you other places in the world. It's hard to get a connection so I use what's called 'rabbit ears' to try to pull in a channel. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don't. But as you can see, today I got connected pretty good." summed up ole Mr. Sam as he looked away from the little girl to the most expensive thing in his store. He was well into his later years and felt he owed himself something, a special gift for his last days. If he didn't keep his rifle loaded to stop someone from stealing it, it would walk right out the door.

Felicity listened to the old man, puzzled by what he was telling her, but amazed at what she was seeing on the front of the magic box. It was like the whole world was squeezed into the little box with a small glass window across the front. It was indeed something that could show a person the world away from the squatters. For Felicity, what she could see of that new world, it was a place she'd like to be a part of.

"My mama told me to always say thank you and pretty is as pretty does. So, thank you Mr. Sam. Maybe I'll see you the next time and you can tell me more about the magic box," said Felicity as she grasped the bag of goods, turned, and began to walk toward the exit door. After taking several steps, she turned, smiled, and widened her eyes. "Mr. Sam, thank you for the penny candy. That's the nicest thing anyone has done for me and my family." Smiling, she turned around, faced the open door, and walked out into the dying evening.

Once beyond the creaky boards on the bottom step, with the bag dangling from her left hand, she focused on the end of the dirt road where it disappeared into the undergrowth. She always hated that part of the trip to ole Mr. Sam's. It scared her every time she ventured under the limbs and branches of the bushes and trees. She always envisioned the spiders hanging in the bushes waiting to drop on her as she passed through. Her imagination wasn't always her friend. Sometimes she was more her own enemy than those who might be waiting in the bushes or dropping from the trees.

She'd slowed her pace as she neared the end of the dirt road. The road which now became a path, sparked her fears of what might be lingering out of sight or dangling from trees. "Now I know there's nothing there!" she assured herself as she slowed her pace just long enough to lift the branch out of the way revealing her trail, her path she'd used earlier. "I know it's okay!" she told herself as she dropped the branch concealing her out of sight and beyond rescue. "Mama said there wasn't anything to be afraid of when there's good in your heart," she whispered.

"Nothing to be afraid of, nothing," she repeated.

"Mama says nobody wants a shanty town girl who has nothing to offer, nothing to give," she said as she moved cautiously through the undergrowth a step at a time. "Mama says not to think too highly of ourselves, but be content where we find ourselves.

It wasn't long until she came to the edge of shanty town. Just as the sun was dipping into the west, she crossed the unpaved road, turned down a deserted alley, and stopped at the red door. She'd made it home without any trouble just as Mama had told her she would.

"See, I told you that if you have good in your heart you'll be okay no matter what your mind is telling you, Felicity. And you know how your mind works. First, you'd be chased by dogs or bears or some imaginary creature that doesn't even exist, then, by the time you got back here, you'd be sweating and short of breath. I'm just telling you that that imagination of yours will get you in trouble. You mind my words, young lady! You mark my words!" said her mother as she took the small bag containing the flour, butter, and a few pieces of penny candy to the other side of the front room where she would try to put something together for her little family.

Diggin' her hand in the bag, her mother looked surprised as she pulled out the three pieces of candy. Looking up in an accusatory manner, her face was flushed with rage. "Did you steal this candy?" she blurted out. "You know how I feel about stealing. If I ain't got the money, then I just don't have it, period. Now, look at me and tell me what you're doing with this candy in this bag!" she shouted as she threw the candy across the top of their small table in the center of the room.

"Better come on with the truth too! No lies or else I'll whack your behind!" she added.

Felicity turned and looked at the candy. At first, when the gift was dropped into the bag, she felt warm inside. She felt that someone was actually concerned about her. But, now, as her mother ranted and raved about the 4 pieces of hard sweet candy, she felt differently somehow. Was her mother so bitter about life that she couldn't accept a simple gesture from the ole man at the store? Maybe so, but there was no reason to act like it was stolen.

"No Mama, I didn't steal the candy. I tell you this every time you send me to the store. The ole man, Mr. Sam, drops a few pieces of candy in all of the children's bags who come to get a few things. It's the way he is all the time. He just has a kind heart, that's all." replied Felicity as she lowered her eyes and stared at the pitiful pieces of cracked candy lying on the table before her.

"And just what makes you think he has a kind heart? Maybe it's something more than that. Maybe I need to go with you to the store the next time to see if he puts candy in my bag! What you think?" asked her mama as she twirled around to see what Felicity would say.

"Mama, it's not like that!" said Felicity as she gathered the small pieces of candy together in the center of the table. She knew her little sister would like a piece, but if it was all cracked up, it wouldn't look as nice.

"You know what I'm gettin' at?" questioned her mama as she walked across the floor and stopped beside Felicity. She wanted her girls to grow up better than she did, but her attitude, her yelling, and her assuming that every man was out for the same thing, were throwing cold water on Felicity's hopes and dreams.

"Mama, not everyone is bad. Not everyone is like that, mama!" countered Felicity as she slipped away from her mother's side and stood on the other side of the table.

"Well, it's a strange thang to me that you have all the answers! What makes you think that he's any different than your daddy was? If you ask me, they're all alike, a bunch of dogs! That's all I got to say about it. Now, you give me those pieces lying there and get yourself and the others ready to eat. I'm not lettin' you go down the same road I did. I'm not goin' to do it, not this time!" shouted her mama as she turned back around with candy pieces in hand. Opening the front door of the coal stove, she tossed the candy into the stove, slamming the door shut.

"Now, get on with what I told you to do! Now get!"