The Candymakers Read online

  Miles reached out to touch a horse, which still had flecks of gold and red on its mane. “I don’t remember it from the picnic,” Miles said. “But it’s… it’s really cool.”

  Suddenly Logan realized why Miles had reacted so strangely. He slapped his forehead. “Duh! You’re allergic to merry-go-rounds! You told us at lunch yesterday, and I totally forgot. Sorry!”

  “It’s okay. I think I’m getting over my allergy.” Turning away from the merry-go-round, Miles said, “We’d better get back.”

  This time they ran around the cornfields, not through them. Logan let Miles set the pace, let him lead them all the way to the back entrance of the factory. Before they went in, though, Miles surprised him by ducking over to the bush where the butterfly chrysalis hung. They bent down to look.

  At first Logan didn’t see it. He moved some leaves aside and then realized he couldn’t see the glossy white clump hanging among the branches because it was lying on the ground, broken open.

  He’d missed it. Again. Logan scanned the nearby bushes for signs of black, yellow, and red wings but could find none.

  “I’m sorry,” Miles said softly.

  “It’s okay,” Logan said, trying to hide his disappointment. “There’s always next year, right?”

  “Right. And I’m sure you’ll see him around here soon. Sometimes things can be right in front of you and you don’t see them. Then suddenly you do.”

  “You think so?”

  Miles nodded.

  Logan wasn’t so sure, but he hoped Miles was right.

  By the time they got up to the apartment, both sets of parents were there to greet them.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Logan told his mom as he tried to ignore the cramp in his side from running.

  “Actually, you’re right on time,” Miles’s dad replied. “We got here early.”

  Miles’s mom looked just as Logan would have guessed. She was short, with dark, straight hair and glasses, which made her look smart, just like Miles. She had the same tired circles under her eyes as her husband.

  His mom outdid herself with the meal. She had prepared six different dishes, all from ingredients produced at the factory. And for Miles’s dad, his own personal chocolate pizza. The man seemed so happy, Logan thought he might ask to move in! Then a thought occurred to him. “Mom? Can Miles sleep over tonight? Since we have to leave so early tomorrow and everything?” He turned to Miles and said, “I mean, if you want to.”

  Miles nodded eagerly. They waited for both sets of parents to answer.

  “We’d love to have Miles stay,” Logan’s mom replied. “I’ll make sure to give him a big pancake breakfast before the contest.”

  “Miles is allergic to pancakes, Mom.”

  Miles’s parents lifted their eyebrows, and Miles gave a weak smile.

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure I can find something else,” Logan’s mom said.

  “So can I stay, Mom?” Miles asked.

  His parents exchanged a glance. “It’s okay with us,” his mom answered. “But what about pajamas? And clothes for the contest?”

  “He can borrow mine,” Logan said. “I have some stuff that’ll fit.”

  The Candymaker raised his glass of cocoa. “To new friendships,” he boomed.

  “To new friendships,” the others repeated, clinking glasses.

  Then the Candymaker asked, “Do you want to take your sleeping bags to the Tropical Room and sleep down there?”

  Logan’s mouth fell open. “Seriously? But it’s not my birthday!”

  Everyone laughed. “The night before the big contest is a special occasion,” his father said. “Just make sure you two get some sleep. You’ll want to be sharp tomorrow.”

  Logan could barely sit still for the rest of the dinner, which seemed to drag on and on. Seriously, grown-ups found the most boring things to talk about, although judging from the laughter and refills of cocoa, they must not have thought so. He and Miles kept sharing frustrated glances.

  Finally Miles’s dad said, “Thank you for this lovely meal. I’m afraid if we stay any longer I may need another chocolate pizza!” He pushed back his chair, and the others followed.

  “It was our pleasure,” Logan’s mom assured him. “We don’t have visitors very often.”

  An awkward silence fell, making Logan even more anxious to get moving. Finally Miles’s mom stepped over to Miles and gave him an extra-long hug. Miles eventually pulled away, clearly embarrassed.

  After another ten minutes of small talk at the door, during which Logan thought he might scream, the O’Learys finally left. Logan’s mom went with them so they wouldn’t get lost.

  As soon as the door clicked closed, his dad said, “Well, what are you boys waiting for? Get going!”

  Logan didn’t have to be told twice. In five minutes flat, he yanked down two sleeping bags from the hall closet and filled a duffel bag with pajamas, toiletries, towels, snacks, a battery-operated alarm clock, and two flashlights. “I’m ready!” he announced, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

  Miles slipped his backpack over his shoulder and tucked a rolled-up sleeping bag under each arm.

  “Do you want to take a walkie-talkie with you?” the Candymaker asked, holding one out.

  Logan shook his head. “We’ll be fine. If I need to reach you, I’ll use the intercom.”

  “What if we need to reach you? ” the Candymaker asked. Then, seeing Logan’s pained expression, he laughed and said, “Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Be good. And no climbing the trees, or I’ll never hear the end of it from your mother!”

  “Don’t worry,” Logan assured him. “We’ll see you in the morning.” Before the Candymaker could issue any more orders, Logan and Miles hurried out the door.

  “Have you ever slept in the Tropical Room before?” Miles asked as they made their way through the darkened factory. Small lights set into the ceiling shed enough light to see by, but only barely. They had to watch their steps carefully.

  Logan nodded. “Each year on my birthday, but never without one of my parents.”

  As they turned the corner by the lab, they nearly bumped into Logan’s mother on her way back from showing Miles’s parents out. “Don’t forget to turn off the rain,” she reminded them. “Or you’ll get a wet surprise in the middle of the night.”

  “I won’t,” Logan promised, although he totally would have forgotten if she hadn’t said something.

  “You sure you have everything you need? Toothbrush? Your aloe?”

  He’d forgotten the aloe but could get more from the aloe plant. “Mom, I’ll be fine.”

  “All right,” she said, reluctantly. “And no—”

  “I know, no climbing,” he said.

  “That’s right. And if you’re not back up by seven in the morning, I’ll come get you.”

  “Thanks,” Logan said, pushing Miles forward. “Gotta go!” he called over his shoulder. He could tell without turning around that his mom was watching. This would be his first night apart from them.

  A little while later they passed the library, and this time Miles pressed his face right up to the glass. “You’re so lucky,” he said earnestly. “A whole library inside your house.”

  Of all the things Logan felt lucky about having in his house, the library fell very low on the list. “Why do you like books so much?” he asked.

  Miles answered without taking his face away from the window. “You never know what you’ll learn when you open one. And if it’s a story, you sort of fall into it. Then you live there for a while, instead of, you know, living here.”

  Logan couldn’t understand why anyone who lived where he did would feel the need to live anywhere else. But he supposed if you didn’t live in a candy factory, you might feel differently.

  Miles finally peeled himself away from the window, and they continued down the long corridors. As they got farther away from the main section of the factory, the lights grew dimmer. But even in total darkness, the rising heat would have told them th