Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33937557-20180603171940

The streets of Tuscola were loud and packed on both sides due to an oncoming parade, the Homecoming Parade. A hot summer sun shone down on hundreds of waiting visitors. Some waited for their family members to cruise by in large, homemade floats throwing candy, which children would run out to pick up. It was the biggest day of their year because this parade happened to be scheduled the day before summer vacation.

I should know, I was one of them.

Since there was so much bustle, community food vendors were open for business. Few of them stood basic and plain with cardboard signs, others were colorful and well-built. One even had wheels on which it could roll around. All sold goods unique to each.

But I remember a single vendor clearly. It had a big, green sign with the words "Crocodiles" painted on it in blue, and was composed of a small plastic table and glass jar. I stood on the opposite side of the road, so I couldn't quite tell what the tiny green things inside said jar were, but being young and curious I pulled on my mother's hand gently.

"Mom, may I go see the table over there?" I pointed to it.

She squinted over, only to twist her face in revulsion. Turning to my father, who excitedly waved a miniature Star-Spangled Banner, she mumbled something. He also looked, gaining the same expression and replying.

"Alright, you can look, but you can't have any 'cause you'll spoil your dinner. When you're through, hurry right on back. The parade's about to start, I can see the floats waaaay down there!"

So, running fast as my legs were able, I crossed the street, pushing past a crowd of other kids who were there to look, too.

I hadn't noticed the odd man sitting at the table until then. I'll never forget his wrinkled face or the way he smiled a friendly gap-toothed smile. The candies, I now noticed, were tiny crocodile-shaped wafers. Crocodiles. How clever. I found myself tantalized by them.

"Hey, mister," I shouted, "those look good. Did'ja make them yourself?"

His smile grew wider, only increasing his wrinkles.

"Why, yes, I did. Would you like a couple, kid?" His voice was soft and welcoming.

He pulled two out of the jar, holding them in front of me. Another kid, my friend Jimmy, tried to snatch them. He pushed him back with his other arm.

"I'll even let you have a free sample."

I reached a hand out to take the candies, but recoiled upon hearing Dad's words replay in my head: "You can't have any 'cause you'll spoil your dinner."

"No thanks, mister."

So he gave the Crocodiles to Jimmy.

"You gonna come swimmin' tomorrow, Jim? Dad said you could just this morning."

"Yeah," he answered, popping the candies in his mouth. "I know my parents'll let me."

With that, I walked back to Mom's open arms and enjoyed an exciting event. I even got to take home some funnel cake, a favorite thing of mine. That night I went to bed with a full stomach. Dreams raced through my mind, images of what anyone my age might've expected for the months ahead.

---

The next day, I waited for Jimmy by the pool in our backyard. Hours passed, it kept getting warmer, and his mother's burgundy minivan never appeared in our driveway. Ants bit at my toes. I got a blister from pacing around in circles. Enough time passed that I ended up terribly sunburned.

Eventually, I gave up waiting and assumed he'd been wrong about his parent's consent towards the visit. When I stepped into the house, Mom had her arms wrapped around me. She told me something that drove us both to tears, having received a phone call seconds before.

Jimmy was never going to go swimming with me again.

He'd overdosed on Krokodil after getting addicted to those tiny Crocodiles.

The name of the candies was more creative than I'd ever been able to imagine. 