Tic Tacs
Savannah Kleinlein
Continued

At almost the same instant, Allie Parker stepped outside of her little house near the Daley Center and, her dark, unkempt hair falling around her face, locked the door. Then she quickly pulled her sunglasses on, tugged her worn sweater more tightly around her thin body, and trudged uneasily down the street with her head low and eyes steadfastly on the sidewalk. She never saw the homeless man on the corner. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, coming so suddenly that she was startled out of her usual silent mask as she promptly bumped into him.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered nervously, regaining her balance as she stepped instructively away. “I – I didn't-“
The man was on his feet in an instant, the broad, white-toothed smile lighting the cloudy day as he dipped his head in a courteous nod. “Good morning, Allie. Isn't it a lovely morning?” He looked closer at her and then said, more quietly, “Hardly suitable for sunglasses, with these clouds.” Allie ducked her head at once, and her hand strayed to the opposite upper arm nervously. And then there came the oddest, most comforting sound: ssh, ssh. The homeless man leaned toward her and whispered kindly, “Do you believe in magic, Allie?” Even though his smile was so comforting, so uplifting, Allie had to shake her head fiercely. Magic. No. There was no such thing as magic, just as there was no such thing as love.
“Well, I must beg to differ.” He pressed something into her hand, and Allie felt the hard smoothness of a piece of candy. Closer inspection revealed it to be a Tic Tac. Green. Green? When had they come up with green? “Allie,” the man said softly, and she turned halfway to look at him. “It is magic, and it will give you the strength to do what you do not yet dare to do.” He leaned forward just once more, and gave her these final words: “You can be stronger than him.”
She had no reply for this; Allie was utterly flabbergasted. The man turned and strode away, whistling a tune unknown to her, and she was left staring at the Tic Tac in her hand and listening to the fading ssh, ssh. . . almost like . . candy. Candy, in a box, when you shake it. When was the last time she had had candy? For that matter, when was the last time she had had anything she wanted?
She ate the Tic Tac, and then Allie turned right back around to her street, her heart calm and resolute for the first time in a long time.
All throughout that day, strange things happened to those lucky few who chanced to meet the Tic Tac man on the back roads and busy streets of Chicago. People went to work, and home, with dazed, thoughtful expressions on their faces. Yet miraculous events occurred all over town. .
A couple entered a nice restaurant that night, a lovely young lady with a new, straight red haircut and freckles, and a man who had been astounded- and swept away- by her candor.
A man presented a copy of a book he had written years ago, a manuscript he had never found the courage to show anyone, to a professional editor- and was praised immediately with the genius of his work. “Destined to become a classic,” were the actual words. Within five months, the book- and his name- was at the top of the New York Times bestseller list and well on the way to a Newbury Medal.
Among these and many other courageous acts, a young unknown woman finally stood up to her nightmare. She left Chicago, and found the courage to leave behind her bruises and tears and broken bones and heart. The man she left behind was punished, after three years of terrorizing. The pretty young brunette boarded a plane at Chicago Midway Airport, smiling an attractive smile full of something she hadn't felt in a long while: confidence.
And a black man went home to his cozy little apartment, changed out of his torn rags and into something much more comfortable, and sat on his window seat as he ate dinner and gazed out at the skyline. As he ate, he sat back, grinned, and from time to time would outright laugh at the world, and at the strength of heart and mind that they had no idea they possessed. And, of course, the faith they vest in one tiny box of ordinary little Tic Tacs.