"If you write FOR a particular market or FOR a particular editor you will often miss the mark. But if you write because your fingers have danced across the keyboard, because a character has tapped you on the shoulder, because a story has settled in your heart, then even if you never sell it you have done the work you were meant to do. And sometime, dear readers, real magic happens." Jane Yolen

9/25/09

Friday Fiction: "A Penny Short"


Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted by Sherri at A Candid Thought. Make sure that you head over to her blog and link up with your own fiction. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), head over to Sherri's blog and check out the links there.
This is another old challenge entry - over two and a half years old, to be exact! The topic was "cooking and baking," and it's still one I look back on fondly. Hope you enjoy the read!


A Penny Short

Little Penelope Robinson dragged her well-worn khaki duffel bag behind her as she trudged down the poorly lit downtown street. Seeing a glimmer on the sidewalk, she stopped short; flipping her matted hair out of her eyes, she got down on her hands and knees to investigate. A dime – she smiled, picked up the coin, and shoved it in the front pocket of her shirt. She felt for what else might be there and pulled her fingers out to look at the contents. She did the figuring in her mind and replaced her coins. Another six cents and she could get one.

Penny continued her trek. Most of the stores along her path were closed, but she could see lights a few hundred feet down. The closer she got, the quicker her pace became, until she was trotting toward the window of The Blissful Baker, where she stopped. Lowering herself to the ground, she sat cross-legged on the sidewalk, inches from the window, and stared at the mostly empty display cases. All she could see was a few donuts and a dozen or so cookies, but Penny knew more were coming. With the sun just beginning to rise, the bakery would be opening soon, and Mr. Zarba would never open without his cases filled with delicious treats.

Penny closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose. The aroma of baking goods and coffee filled her nostrils and brought a feeling of contentment over her that belied her unkempt appearance. As she continued breathing deeply, every muscle relaxed and the corners of her mouth crept upward into a relaxed smile.

A bang on the window interrupted her reverie. Mr. Zarba, attempting to place a tray full of bagels in the front case, had stumbled, causing the tray to slam into the window. Half a dozen of the treats flew off the tray and onto the floor. Looking ahead to investigate the damage, she noticed Mr. Zarba’s face level with hers, where he was on his hands and knees, picking up his dropped wares. She quickly averted her eyes, and spied a nickel beside her on the sidewalk, which she quickly pocketed.

Raising her eyes again, she saw Mr. Zarba, no longer looking her way, putting the remaining bagels in the case. Penny reached into her pocket, recounted her change, and sighed. She scanned the ground, spotting a collection of cigarette butts and an empty potato chip bag, but no coins. Depositing the garbage in a nearby receptacle, she returned to the shop window.

The bakery case was full now. Staring at all those donuts, bagels, and cookies made her mouth water, but the smells were enough to keep her glued to her spot on the sidewalk. They almost silenced the roar of her empty stomach.

Looking above the display case, she saw Mr. Zarba walking toward the front door, likely to open for business. Penny hastily stood up, grabbed her duffel bag and started traipsing further along the sidewalk. It was one thing to look at the tasty morsels – watching someone walk out of the shop with one in hand was more than she could bear.

“Little girl!”

Penny stopped and turned her head to find Mr. Zarba chasing after her. She waited, her eyes transfixed on a hole in her left shoe. Mr. Zarba tapped her on the shoulder.

“Little girl, are you all right? Would you like a little something?”

She shook her head. Regardless, the baker gently took Penny’s hand and led her back to the bakery. Allowing herself to be dragged along, she kept her eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead of her.

“What is your name, little girl?”

“Penny,” she mumbled, her eyes still lowered.

“Well, Penny, I would very much like to give you a donut and a bath, if you’ll let me.”

She looked up cautiously.

Mr. Zarba smiled. “Actually, it would be Mrs. Zarba who gives you the bath, but the donut would definitely be from me.”

Penny smiled despite herself as she walked into the shop with her new friend.

As they got to the counter, she emptied her pocket on the table. “Please let me buy the donut. I have almost enough.”

Mr. Zarba smiled at this proud girl. He counted the change.

“Well, my dear, you are the only extra Penny I’ll need.”

**

Thanks for reading! Be sure to stop by Sherri's blog for more great fiction.

8 comments:

  1. ahhh... I can see this as part of a longer story.

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  2. Sweet story! (donuts and all) :)

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  3. I agree, this is a sweet story! I like the baker's heart.

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  4. This was the topic when I first came to FaithWriters. Your story warmed my heart and filled my senses! :) I wanted to know about little Penny. :)

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  5. A good one for tugging at the emotions!

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  6. Awww...what a sweet story. I love the baker at the end. "the only extra penny I'll need is you." LOVE that!

    Karlene

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  7. Oh man, I got goose bumps at the ending to this story (plus the room is cold, too;) Wonderful. I'd never read it before, was before my time at FW. So sweet. Love all your descriptions:)

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  8. Oh I love it Joanne!! So great to read, and makes me wonder about the rest of the story :) Maybe he raises her, and she becomes a homeless advocate? LOL

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