It was a day quite a few years ago, much like today. The kind of day that smolders and bakes, makes the skin feel like it could slide and melt right off the bones. Not much else to do but slip a cool hanky between over-heated breasts in a vain attempt to alleviate the perspiration. A continual roll of liquid that tickled in its travels beneath the lacy ruffles of her white shirt. Suddenly, she was conscious that she should have worn a bra today.1
Her name was Candace. 'Course the boys all called her Candy. So sweet, so cheap, so easy to purchase. She played on the fools, so willing to taste her succulent treats. The money was quick. It paid the bills. No reason to refuse an easy buck, an easy lay, an easy life.2
Today, she wasn't interested. Wouldn't have known it by her blouse,3
now sheer with her own sweat. Enough cash saved and stuffed in her pocket to last till she was home. It'd been a long stretch, but it was finally time to make that journey. The trip back to the place she was bred. Another small town on the edge of her nowhere beckoned.4
Standing at the bus station, she felt herself begin to slip back in time. The memories all came flooding back. For all these years, Candy had closed the door on everything she had left behind. Now, waiting for the ride that would return her to that world, the years seemed to melt away. Once again, she was a little girl in a ramshackle house in just another backwater town. No, Candy hadn’t forgotten a thing…5
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Stop! Please Stop…MAMA HELP MEEEEEeeeee…” But her screams and, finally, whimpers would echo off the bedroom walls and be lost somewhere in the darkness. There had been so many nights like this. With the hands of just one more of her mother Fanny’s boyfriends crawling all over her. She knew that no matter how loudly she screamed, no one would ever come to save her. 6
Candace was only 10 the first time it happened. She never knew his real name, just that her mom called him Mac. Fanny and Mac would sit around the shack they called home, drinking little glasses filled with some dark liquid. Candace didn’t know what it was back then, but she knew it smelled disgusting on Mac’s breath when he would crawl on top of her at night and breathe into her face. “Candy. Now ain’t you sweet, little Candy. Now you be sweet to Mac and he gonna treat you just fine.” But Mac lied. They all lied. And Mama, well she was too drunk or passed out to hear a sound. Or she heard every scream and just turned the radio up a little louder to drown it out. Eventually, Candy didn’t bother to scream anymore. She would lie there as still as could be and close her eyes. If she tried real hard, she could pretend that she didn’t feel any of the nameless, faceless men who climbed on top of her in the darkness. They were all Mac in the end anyway. Sometimes, she could lose herself in the strains of Patsy Cline crooning on the radio, “Blue…blue-oooh-oooh…I’m so lonesome and blue…”7
Though more than 11 years had gone by since that first time, Candy still had the nightmares to remind her of where she came from. Waking up in a cold sweat, remembering all of the things she tried so hard to forget by the light of day. Candy thought the nightmares would go away when she left that godforsaken house at the age of 16, hitching a ride with a trucker out on old route 70. Of course, in exchange for a ride out of town, he expected something in return. Candy had offered him a few dollars from the stash she had stolen from the jar her mother kept hidden under her bed. The money Candy was using to finally escape the torture of her existence. 8
Big greasy Joe didn’t want any of her money, though. He wanted the same thing that all of the other men in her life had wanted from her. He wanted a taste of sweet Candy. She wasn’t surprised really, seemed that is what they all wanted in the end. In a way, Candy was kind of relieved. She wouldn’t have to part with the few dollars she was clinging to in order to start over somewhere else. She didn’t care where she ended up as long as it was somewhere far, far away from all that she had come to hate. And besides, Candy had learned how to let them touch her any way they wanted to and yet not really be there at all. In her mind, she could go anywhere. At times, she imagined herself as a famous singer like Patsy Cline. She could just see all those people back home saying, “Would you just listen to that! Why that is little Candace Mahaffey, don’t ya know. Look how far she’s gone!” Yeah, they would know her name then. The little girl that no one paid attention to when she was being raped over and over, year after year, by their very own hometown men. Suddenly, Candy would be someone that mattered. She would be more than just some sweet treat to be used and thrown away. 9
Waking up suddenly as the rig came to a rough halt in the parking lot of a little roadside diner, Joe looked over and said, “This is where you get out. Now you get that sweet ass of yours movin’. My wife’ll be holdin’ up supper for me and I ain’t about to hear no nonsense ‘bout bein’ late. You hear me? Get the hell out! “ 10
Still half asleep, Candy grabbed the small plastic bag that held her belongings and opened the door. Hopping out of the big truck, she heard the passenger door slam closed almost before her feet hit the ground. She turned back around to ask Joe just where the hell he was leaving her, “Hey, where am I at anyways?” Just above the loud growling sound of the engine slamming into gear, she heard Joe yell back, laughter in his voice as he said, “Little girl, you in the big city of Enderville!” With that, the rig pulled out, kicking dust at Candy as she stood there watching it roll away. Turning around slowly, she did the only thing she could think to do at the moment. She walked toward the diner. As she got to the door, she saw a sign in the window: HELP WANTED. 11
Candy stood in the doorway and looked around at the streets of this small town. It appeared so quiet. Maybe this could be a new beginning. Maybe she was meant to end up here. Candy almost laughed out loud as she quietly whispered under her breath, “Yeah, what a place to begin! Me, starting over, in a town called Enderville. Why am I not surprised?”12
With that thought running through her head and a grin on her face, Candy opened the door to the diner. She heard the clanging of the bell that announced each customer’s arrival or departure. The place was about half full with what appeared to be a good number of truck drivers on their way through to somewhere else. The other half appeared to be locals by their manner and attire. All heads swung around in her direction the minute the little cowbell rang. Candy grabbed the sign off the door and held her head high as she walked up to the counter. The waitress came over to her immediately, pot of hot coffee in her hand, “Something I can help you with, Miss?” Candy held out the Help Wanted sign and said, “I sure hope so. I need a job and I’m willing to work hard.” 13
The waitress yelled back into the kitchen, “Hey Chuck, someone here ‘bout the job.” A burly man poked his head out from behind the kitchen door. He looked Candy over from head to toe. She could feel his eyes move more slowly as it reached her chest. Then he moved his eyes slowly up to meet hers. “You ever work a diner before?” Candy hesitated for a moment before she replied, “No sir, I ain’t never worked a diner before but I am a hard worker and a fast learner.” Chuck appeared to be thinking before he said, “A fast learner, huh? Well, we’ll see ‘bout that. Marcia, get her a uniform. She can start right now.”14
Candy couldn’t remember a time when she felt happier. She started to thank Chuck for the job, but he had already slipped back through the kitchen door. With a roll of her eyes, Marcia looked at Candy and started walking toward the back of the diner. “Well, you gonna come and get yer uniform or ya gonna stand there all night thinkin’ about it?” Candy moved quickly to catch up with her.15
As she changed into her uniform in the stock room, Candy couldn’t keep a smile from forming on her lips. She thought about where she had just come from and the life she was finally leaving behind. “This was it,” she thought to herself. “This is my chance for a new beginning.” And again, Candy found herself giggling, “Enderville. What a place to start over! But look out, Enderville, here comes Candy!”16
Author notes
Based on the poem "Whatever Happened to Candy?"
allpoetry.com/Poem/580512
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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well, actually...since i have had a few people ask me that recently...i do believe i am going to have to finish part three...maybe over the weekend. You helped give me the kick in the butt i needed
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Had to drop by for another read. Should I ask.....is there a part III somewhere?
John -
very good
Very well written. A good background on your character and lots of interest for the reader to wonder about where she might be headed.
Will have to check out part two.
thanks,
John -
People kill me shaking head.. Nowhere beckoned? Sheshush.. it means that nothing lay behind her and damn sure nothing big out in front of her.. Just her life.. Ughhh.. Least in my wee little mind lol.. Off to read part two.. with my eyes half clinched actually. Cause damned if Candy Girl just don't seem to have bad luck.. Catressa
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This is definately something that I could really get into. Its says part 1, I'll have to go fishing for part 2. I really loved this. You have penned this beautifully. Your quite talented. Continue,please
Smoochie
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I really enjoyed this one.
I think the beginning is great...yes, maybe a little slow but I think it finishes up just fine. 
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Weeee!
well ann.... you asked for an honest critique at my leisure... and i hate to disappoint a friend, even moreso than a lady. so i will give you my honest critique.
the beginning feels a little too.... long. perhaps too many strung along descriptions. it flows really well but to me it felt a lot like hammering away at what was meant to be a little more of a simple introduction... i think if you slowed down the image you wanted, and isolated it within a couple of sentences then it would be more effective without being so airy.
that was my only real complaint.... i think there was a minor error at:
"Another small town on the edge of her nowhere beckoned."
i'm just not sure what you mean by her nowhere beckoned.. it kind of trips me up when i read it through.. rewording that sentence would probably help.
besides those two things i think that the story has a lot of potential, and the singsong manner that you have written the story in and how characatuered the people are is pretty interesting... it gives the story an almost comic-book feel to it that reminds me of '50s film-noir.
i'm off to read the second one in a bit.... good writing... and i'm glad to see that Abel was right in pushing you to write some more on this without leaving us hanging.
mark -
Captivating piece. Well painted, takes the reader to Candy's side, through everything. Has a sad, head up and stay strong feel to it.
Creative and solid.
Keep it up.
Thank you for sharing.
Rodney -
wow,that was an amazing story, i read the second part first not knowing what to expect from the frist part, but it didnt let me down. another great write, and great imagery again. im not sure i wanted all the imagery, but you gave it too me.
~malissa~ -
I feel bad about doing this…but you did ask for an honest critique….well here goes…now don’t be upset but…..i felt it was to short….i know it says part one which leads me to believe there’s more…that it’s not over yet…but it’s been my experience that most second parts can take up to a year to write…now this is just unacceptable….to be left hanging for that long could make ones blood gather in places…well in places it shouldn’t….i know most people look at spelling, punctuation, structure and all the rest of that BS….but me…..i look for an ending…..and to be quite frank…..i didn’t see one….so you may fool some of the people with your perfect grammar and what not ….but me….i’m just over here hanging….and my toes are starting to go numb….well there you have it…I hope we can still be friends….but remember you did ask for this….thanx for sharing…Peace Abel....P.S. I Loved this story...your writing is so raw and real...what a true talent you have...
Edited on Oct 03, 6:47 p.m. because ''. -
Very moving write, I wonder if this actually happened to you? You write it so vividly so deeply...as if its a diary entry instead of a story. I'm so sorry if this is your reality, but hopefully you've escaped and are happy now! touching write, hope Part 2 is retribution and Happiness!
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You have done one of the most impressive jobs of incorporating detail into a story that I have ever seen on here and I think there are some awesome writer's in our midst. This is simply one of the most fabulous storywrites I have ever read. Unfortunately for a lot of women. the storyline is all too real and happens a lot more often than it ever should. I feel very blessed to have read this high quality piece. Thank you!
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Damn..I seem to be on a roll tonight, reading stories right from the lives of people I have known and loved....people who's lives were twisted beyond all repair or redemption by people with more greed than brain cells. I pray every night that those people find the deepest, hottest part of hell.
It makes me wonder if a thousand years from now, we will still be reading about people doing this to each other.....
Great write UB! -
Enjoyed this from beginning to end. A story I could get into. Like you attention to detail, the little background info that helped to define who this character is, where she came from.
At this point I see her as a sympathetic character, innocent dispite the abuse she endured as a child and despite her "occupation."
Have no idea where you are going with this but I'll be interested in following her story wherever you take me.
I know you wanted critique but I honestly can find any fault with this other than the font, which you changed.
Desiree
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Wow girl! I am impressed with your writing. This story grabbed my attention and held it all the way through. I am wondering what it going to happen next...probably the owner of the Cafe/Truck Stop will hit on her or take advantage. Well I won't go ahead with the story although the beginning leaves one intrigued as Candy is heading back home to her beginning. Good Jobber!!!! I truly enjoyed! HUGS, sharon
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i'll have fish, chips and some mushy peas please and a mug of tea. good start. well i didn't find the red hard to read, it is fine on my screen, not that that has anything to do with the story lol.
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A bit wierd. Taco Sauce is right about the red. It is a little gross and mabey too realistic as far as the obscene comments go.
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I really like the bit about Patsy Cline, and how you didn't just let her song on the radio be a bit of extra info useless to the plot. The red was a titch hard to read (it glooows), but I'm a big fan of bright colors against black. Great personalization in under 1,500 words, I don't think I could do it. Write more please!
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Wow amazing story. Believable too. I can't wait for part 2. Your a great writer this story is awesome. Great flow and wonderful imagery. Keep writting I want more!
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The first few paragraphs made my skin crawl...excellent writing! Wonderful(if not disturbing) description, and great imagery. I shall be on the look out for Part 2.
(the red on black is hard to read so I had to highlight )
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You really brought the characters to life in this piece and I am one of those if the begining is crap I won't read the rest of it. So I didn't j/k lol
Avery good begining and you really made the reader(s) me in particular, heart go out to Candy. Can't wait to see what else happens. I did read the poem you had wrote also... So get started mate, I wanna see more
Natalia
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