Down Laurel Street from my grandmother’s house in Shreveport was a chocolate factory. There was this huge window in the front, giving full view of the machines inside that twirled and pumped the candy out. When I was five years old my dad would walk me past it on the way to Cotton’s grocery, but we’d never stop and just look. All I’d get was a passing glance as we continued to the store. I could actually smell the candy seeping through the door.
Now you have to understand 1950’s Louisiana. Kids and dogs ran free. Yeah, I said dogs, too. In fact, when the leash law took effect there was almost a rebellion. Now, when I look back, and remember all the dogs running around I wonder what was in our minds? Anyway, it was a kinder, gentler society. By the time I was seven, my mother taught me how to get on a trolley, go downtown to the Strand Theater, watch a movie, and find my way home. I also knew how to cross the street at the light, not talk to strangers, and not talk at all when grownups were speaking.
Free range did not apply to five year olds! I was expected to stay on my block. . . period! My grandmother watched me, and if I couldn’t hear MaMaw’s voice I’d gone out of my range. Still, there was the chocolate factory. Sin begins by coveting, and I coveted them candy bars. They loomed before me. Then one day, while walking around my block I conceived a plan. I made a couple of trips around the block to check things out. Then I stood at the corner for the longest time. The forbidden fruit was across that street, and just to the left about a hundred yards or so. I took a deep breath, and stepped off into eternity.
When I’d crossed the street and lived I became bolder. I felt liberty surge through my blood. The sights and sounds invigorated me. My stubby little legs picked up more and more speed, and before I knew it the chocolate factory was in sight. I ran to the window. There it was! I didn’t understand how the candy was made, just that I was. All the machinery was bright steel, with steam coming out of one end. The candy would come out of one end and another machine would wrap it. Then the pieces would go into a box. I slavered at the mouth as I watched so much wealth parading before my young eyes. There was not a prayer of my getting a piece, which is astounding that the people inside could see my nose up against the glass and not slip me a single piece. I know they saw me.
I never heard the shot that got me. All I remember was the fire on my legs. Now, back in the day the kids wore shorts. We didn’t tend to wear shoes, in fact, in summer it was a rite of passage to walk the streets that were covered with oil, and get your feet tough. My feet were tough, but MaMaw wasn’t hitting my feet, she was cutting them legs with a willow switch! Let me tell you, if your sin was drinking water before that switch hit, you’d never drink water again. Switched me all the way home, and then took me to church that Sunday where a Baptist preacher told me I was “A goin’ to HAYELLL!” I was scared of Jesus until I was thirty years old. Bad chocolate factory!
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