The following is the 1st chapter of Everyone Thinks I Dream of Chocolate.
I actually came by the store the day before. It had been my first time in Main Street since the world closed down. It was the middle of July and most people were vaccinated or pretending to be vaccinated. I came down with Chrissy to grab some dinner. It was after 5 pm and I knew that no one would be at the chocolate store. Still, we walked up to the window and peeked inside. Despite the lights turned off, the summer sun was enough to illuminate the scene.
Glass cases filled with trays. The left case had dipped confectionary. Oreos, graham crackers, and pretzels sat next to homemade peanut butter cups. In the right case were truffles. Each ceramic dish had a different flavor and topping to match. I instantly recognized the rose petals, candied oranges, cayenne pepper decorating the cubes of chocolate on the top shelf. It was like looking at a miniature garden of sweet delight.
Over the entire shop was a sign, handcrafted and hand-painted. The sign itself was a pastel mint. The words “Lou’s Truffles and Confections” were scrawled with a deep maroon paint in an elegant script. It seemed to capture everything about the shop. Luxurious and humble, it presented the idea of “Lou’s” as that small town ideal.
Perhaps, it was the lighting. The shadows and dying afternoon sunlight created the visual tones of an old sepia photograph. It was all so familiar to me. This was my life only a year and a half ago. Yet, it also felt so far away.
“We can come back another time,” Chrissy said.
I nodded.
We looked for a place to eat. A lot of the shops on Main Street were new. Businesses that were closed due to the pandemic and bankruptcy were replaced by new ones. I’m sure these new shops were feeling lucky as they gambled against the economy and natural disasters for profit. We decided to try one of these new restaurants: the Upper Floor. Their burgers were pretty good. It was balanced and juicy without being greasy. Yet, even as I stuffed my face with food and beer, I couldn’t help feeling this familiar anxiety. It had been gripping me since the start of the quarantine.
Later that night, Chrissy and I stopped at a new smoke shop near the bottom end of the Street. I wanted to pick up some new vape parts. The guy said that he didn’t have them in and to come back tomorrow.
The next day, a cashier said that the owner would be in with my parts in 15 minutes. 15 minutes to kill. Anxiety gripping my chest again. I had to pee. I asked if the cashier if there was a bathroom and of course there wasn’t.
I found myself walking up the street toward the chocolate shop. The other shops had long since given up on enforcing masks (“if the government doesn’t care…”). Lou’s had a big sign, reminding people her shop still required a mask and had a four-person limit. I walked up to the door, put on my mask, and counted the people inside. Three. I counted again, just to be sure and once more for confidence.
“How many people are inside?”
I looked behind me to see two women in their 60’s, smiling eagerly at me.
“With me, it will be four,” I said.
Time stretched as I opened the door and walked in. For a moment, Lou looked at me. She stopped with a moment of questionable recognition, then went back to help a customer. Did she ignore me? No. I had a mask and sunglasses on.
I got in line and waited for what seemed like another stretch of a very long minute. While I waited, I noticed a woman working behind the counter that I had never seen before. I saw the two of them in rhythm, helping the customers in front of me. They weaved in and out of each other, going into different nooks and crannies under the tables. They pulled out different-sized boxes to package the truffles. With the way they handled them so delicately, it was as if they were landscaping personal gardens made of chocolate. Again, this was all familiar to me but in the same way that people felt nostalgic for a time, they barely remembered. This all felt so far removed, a life so long ago the memory was but a dream.
“Can I help the next person?” Lou said.
I walked up to her and took off my sunglasses.
“Hey, Lou.”
“Hey, Mouse. How are ya?”
“Not bad. Good to see the old store still kicking.”
“Yep. It’s busy as always.”
“And the store at Old Town still going?”
“Yep. We’re pulling out of the Kitchen at the end of the month but we’re going to start making chocolate here.”
“That’s great. I’m sure Dick is happy about that.”
“Oh absolutely. And we still have Sandy and Jabari. Christian is still around every once in a while. We also have a new boy named David over there and Dana over here.
“Hi,” said Dana. She has her back turned, focusing on wrapping a ribbon around a newly packaged box.
“Hi,” I said back.
“So how have you been,” Lou asked.
“You know, mostly focusing on myself. Trying to figure stuff out. Just came out to say hi.”
“Well, we all need to do that sometimes. You look good.”
“Thanks. Well, you’re busy so I’ll leave you to it.”
“Alright. Thanks for stopping by.”
I walked out the door and passed the two women waiting behind me.
“Well, that was quick,” one of them said.
“Yeah.”
Her tone was cordial enough but I also knew Lou. She wasn’t going to flip out in front of a customer. Not immediately, anyway. Maybe, she wasn’t mad at me. After all, my mind was predisposed to a mild case of social paranoia.
There was a sense of distance in her tone, however. It was enough to know that at the very least, my time at “Lou’s” had come to an end.
As I walked back to the smoke shop, I thought about the store in Old Town. That was where I mostly worked. I think about Dick and the fact that if I didn’t visit him soon, the same sense of anxiety would keep building inside me. A part of me wanted to run, however. To never see them again and pretend my time at Lou’s Truffles and Confectionary had been nothing more than a vague dream…
Danger Wonka 