The Candymakers Read online

  Logan could hear Max talk about crystals and molecules and stability all day, and it still wouldn’t make sense. All he knew was that if you wanted to cook with chocolate, it needed to be in a certain state. Basically, a blob of mushy chocolate fresh from the Cocoa Room went into the machine, got sloshed around, then was heated, cooled, heated, and cooled again. About an hour later, the chocolate came out shiny and more solidified. He’d need to learn how to do it by hand one day—all good candymakers knew how—but Logan feared he wouldn’t be able to follow the instructions.

  “I’d like you to spend the next few hours practicing with these machines and your raw ingredients,” said Max. “Also feel free to go back to some of the rooms we visited yesterday, where anyone will be happy to answer your questions. After lunch I’ll meet with each of you in private to discuss your chosen project. Do any of you know what you want to make yet?”

  Philip’s hand shot up.

  Daisy muttered, “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Preparation is the key to success,” Philip declared. “I’ve been working on my contest entry for weeks.” He waved his hand dismissively at the long lab table. “And I won’t need any fancy machines to make it.”

  Logan glanced worriedly at Max. These machines were like his children. Max’s eyebrows rose in response to Philip’s comment, but all he said was, “Wonderful, Philip. I look forward to seeing what you’ve come up with. Anyone else?”

  Logan glanced at Daisy and Miles, but they both shook their heads. With a deep breath, Logan slowly raised his hand. He’d dreamt about the Bubbletastic ChocoRocket for so long, it had begun to feel like just a dream. But now the time had come to make it real. He had opened his mouth to speak when Philip stepped forward and pulled on Max’s sleeve.

  “Yes, Philip?” Max asked, turning toward him. “Are you so eager to share your plans that you can’t wait your turn?”

  Philip shook his head. “I just wanted you to know I’m not going to show my candy to anyone before the contest. Like you said yesterday, you can’t copyright a recipe. There’s nothing to keep anyone at the factory—or any of you guys, no offense—from stealing my idea, mass-producing it, and making a fortune. Then I’d have to sue, and it would get messy.”

  Miles gasped. Daisy shook her head disapprovingly. Logan stared, aghast. “But that would never happen!” he insisted. “Not here at the factory. Not from one of us!”

  Philip shrugged. “I prefer to win the contest first, and then I can control what happens next.” He crossed the room to his station and pulled out his notebook. Apparently, the conversation didn’t interest him anymore.

  Silence descended on the room and hung there. Even Max couldn’t seem to find the right words. The only time Logan had ever seen that happen was when Miss Paulina called from Miss Paulina’s Candy Palace with the news that twenty boxes of Oozing Crunchoramas had oozed all over the store when the electricity went out, and she was standing in a river of chocolate.

  No one moved until the door swung open with a bang. Then they all jumped.

  CHAPTER SIX

  How’s everybody doing?” the Candymaker boomed as he and Logan’s mom entered the room. “It’s so quiet in here I figured I’d find you all huddled over your lab tables creating something delicious and award-winning!” He grinned, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes.

  The Candymaker’s high spirits were enough to lift the dark mood that had fallen on the room. Philip kept his head down, but Miles and Daisy eagerly approached Logan’s parents with shy smiles. Introductions were made and hands shaken.

  “We had hoped to get here yesterday,” Logan’s mom said. “But things always get a bit crazy before the big show.”

  “That’s what people in the candy business call the annual convention,” Logan explained to the others.

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Sweet said. “And we always get a few visitors passing through on their way to the show, so you may notice a few more men around here today who look like my husband.” She reached over and affectionately patted the Candymaker’s belly. “We’re always happy to show other candymakers how we do things. And we learn from them as well. I’m sure you’re all helping one another, too.”

  Logan squirmed a bit but didn’t look over at Philip. He didn’t want to put him on the spot.

  His mom then put her arm around Daisy’s shoulders. “It’s nice to have another girl around here. If there’s anything you need, just ask me.”

  Daisy beamed.

  “Nice to see you again, Philip,” the Candymaker’s wife said.

  They all turned to look at Philip in surprise. When had she met him?

  “Ah, so this is Philip!” the Candymaker exclaimed, crossing the room.

  Philip quickly stashed away his notebook (no doubt full of his top-secret recipe) and stood up. “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir?” Miles mouthed at Logan.

  “Well, Philip, I heard you’re quite the go-getter.”

  “You… you did?” Philip said, stuttering a bit. For the first time, he seemed a bit nervous. Logan supposed the Candymaker’s, er, girth, could be a little intimidating if you didn’t know him.

  The Candymaker nodded. “Henry in Marshmallows told me he had a nice chat with you at lunch yesterday. You impressed him with your ambition.”

  Philip gave a quick nod but didn’t say anything.

  Logan listened to this exchange with interest. Henry was impressed with someone’s ambition? Henry, the man blissfully content to make marshmallows day after day for forty years? Leave it to Henry to find something nice to say about everyone.

  “Well, children,” the Candymaker said, turning back to the others. “Enjoy your stay here with us, and I’ll look forward to seeing what you each come up with. Including you, son.” He ruffled Logan’s hair playfully. Logan’s mom gave Daisy a final squeeze and off they went.

  Logan busied himself by picking up the measuring cup at his station, examining it in the light, and putting it down again. Maybe no one had heard his father’s parting words. No luck. All three contestants swarmed him.

  Daisy said, “Your own parents don’t know what you’re making?”

  Logan shook his head.

  “Why?” asked Miles.

  Logan hesitated, not sure how to answer. Before he could figure it out, Philip took his turn. “I’m sure his parents know. How could they not? He’s pulling your leg.”

  “I assure you he is not,” said Max, coming to Logan’s rescue. “He has kept me in the dark as well, although the rules don’t stipulate that the contestant can’t use other resources.”

  “But why, Logan?” Miles asked. “Don’t you want your dad’s help? And Max’s?”

  Logan took a deep breath. “It’s sort of complicated. I always thought if I made it into the contest, that this was the candy I wanted to make. So if I had everyone’s help, then it wouldn’t be mine anymore. I need to do this myself. The way you guys are. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Daisy said, punching him playfully on the arm. “That’s very big of you. Don’t you think so, guys?”

  Miles nodded enthusiastically. Philip shook his head. “No. I think it was stupid. You had an advantage and you tossed it aside. That’s not how you win, that’s how you lose.”

  Daisy’s fists clenched again, but Max stepped in before she could respond. “Come now, children,” he said, ushering everyone back toward their stations. “This is a friendly competition. We’re making candy, after all, not running for political office.”

  “That may be,” Philip said, crossing his arms, “but I’d like to request some sort of structure around my station.”

  “A structure?” Max repeated.

  Philip nodded. “Like a curtain.”

  Max’s forehead furrowed. “What would I hang a curtain from?”

  They all looked up at the gleaming rows of pipes that ran along the ceiling, then back down at Philip.

  “Well, some sort of temporary wall, then,” he deman