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The Candyman

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Inspired by a story by TxTallTales.

This one's kind of dark.

*****

THE CANDYMAN

A journey out of Hell.

*****

"Where'd you get that candy, Audrey?"

"From Mr. Henry."

Liz was not at all comfortable with this. Audrey shouldn't be getting candy from anyone, and certainly not from some man she didn't know. Just what in the hell was going on? But she needed to stay calm to get more information from her young daughter.

"Oh? And who's Mr. Henry?"

"He's the man that lives where Susie used to live."

Susie had been one of Audrey's best friends until they moved across the country. Lionel and Monica hadn't wanted to leave the close-knit neighborhood but the promotion and accompanying pay raise were just too good to turn down.

"And how do you get the candy?"

"Just knock on the side door. He keeps a bowl full of candy right next to it and lets you choose one whole piece a day."

"Do the other kids get candy, too?"

"Sure mom. They all do."

"And..." Her voice caught just a bit. "Do you ever go into Mr. Henry's house."

"No, mom. I just get candy and say thank you. Can I go play now?"

"Sure, baby."

Liz was trying to remain outwardly calm was inside she was seething. Who in the hell was this guy and why did he think it was okay to lure kids to his door with free candy? What the hell was he planning? Is he grooming them? Get them used to him then lure them into the house for God only knows what? Oh no, there was no way this was going to stand. She was immediately on the phone to her neighbor and best friend, Kristin.

"What's up, Lizzy?"

Liz related the conversation she had just had with Audrey and asked if Kristin's son, Ryan, had ever mentioned Mr. Henry or shown up with strange candy.

"Now that you mention it, he came home a couple of days ago sucking on a piece of hard candy. I just assumed he got it from one of the other parents. I didn't think twice about it at the time."

"Something's not right about this guy, Kris. I mean, a single man having kids come to his door for candy? We need a neighborhood meeting. My house in an hour."

There were 9 houses on this particular cul-de-sac, and all were families with young children, except one, or so it seemed. Fourteen of the 16 parents were at the meeting (2 of the husbands were still at work) and they were all growing concerned. Each of them had noticed their children with candy of unknown origin over the last few weeks but none of them thought to question it. This was a safe neighborhood so why would they. None of them thought about the newest addition.

"I remember when he moved in," recalled Angela. Her husband, Monty, was one of those still at work. "I kept looking for a wife or kids and never saw any. I just assumed I missed them but it's been 2 months and I still haven't seen anyone but him."

"I don't think I've ever gotten a good look at him," added Pam, from the corner house. 'What does he look like?"

"Tall, handsome, in decent shape. He has dark hair that he seems to keep a little long. A good-looking guy, I guess."

The unspoken implication was that he didn't look like a child predator, but what does one actually look like?

"I think we need to avoid saying anything to the kids. We don't want to scare them into being afraid of some monster in their midst," contributed Kalina.

"So, we do nothing?" asked David incredulously. He and his wife, Cara, were the only people of color on the block, and their two boys were growing up to be handsome little devils.

"Absolutely not," responded Kalina. "I think we take it right to this guy and tell him we don't appreciate what he's doing and if he doesn't knock it the hell off then we'll go to the police. That's what we do."

There was a rousing chorus of cheers in support of Kalina's idea. It was decided that half of them would keep the children at Liz's house, where the horde of minors was already tearing up the backyard, and the rest of them would go confront this Henry character.

Seven of them went, 4 men and 3 women, and they marched right up to the pervert's (sorry, alleged pervert's) door and rang the bell.

The chiming sound surprised Henry. He'd been here for two months and had had no visitors, except the children of course. But they always came to the side door, as he had told them. It faced the street and was more visible while his front door was tucked back a bit from the street.

He peered out the window at the collection of adults outside his door. He initially thought they were here to finally give him a welcome, though he hadn't particularly missed not getting one, but as he took them in there was anger on their faces and he put that idea out of his mind. He briefly considered not answering but didn't think they'd believe he wasn't home. He opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Look pal, we know what you're doing," started the very large man that stood at the front of the pack. "You need to lay off giving candy out to the kids, all right. There isn't a place around here for perverts and if you keep it up we'll sick the cops on you. Got it?"

The verbal attack had surprised him. He had always thought the folks around here to be kind but that was certainly not the impression they were giving off. In fact, they were downright hostile right now and they most definitely had the wrong idea, but this wasn't the time to point this out.

"I don't want to cause any trouble. I'll tell the kids tomorrow."

"No, you don't need to be talking to any of the kids. Just stop giving out the candy."

"They won't understand if I just stop. I'll put a sign outside the door, okay?"

"Fine. Just stay away from the kids."

That taken care of, the angry parents turned and walked away. Henry gently closed the door as they strode down the pathway and on to the sidewalk.

By the time they got back to Liz's house they were congratulating themselves on the fear they had obviously instilled in the pervert. They imagined the pee running down his leg as he lost control of his bladder. 'Serves the asshole right' they told themselves. No one was going to make a victim of their kids.

When they had all reconvened in Liz's living room the seven that had made the trip recounted the events. It seemed in the telling to have become even more amazingly dramatic than it had been in real life, but isn't that how legends are born. Still, there was some anxiety amongst them.

"Should we just leave it at that?" wondered Cara. "I mean, will that stop him from doing something or have we simply made it harder?"

"Hey Doug, isn't your brother a cop?" asked Liz. Doug was Pam's husband. "Maybe he could get some information on this guy."

Doug agreed to call his brother, Bob, and see if he could get a little background on this guy. Bob was a detective in the next town over and had often told them to give him the names of any guys their daughter, Ashlynn, started seeing and he'd get the lowdown for them. This was possibly even more important than that and Doug had no doubt Bob would be happy to help.

The evening wound down and the families all returned to their homes but every one of them was doing so feeling just a little less safe and secure than they had this morning. Liz was particularly shaken up. She and Victor had tried for years to have a baby and finally scored when Audrey came along. She was the youngest in the neighborhood and the thought of something happening to her gave her chills. She finally had a few sips of brandy to calm her down. Even the smallest amount of alcohol seemed to make her sleepy, and she needed the help tonight.

The next day Doug put in that call to his brother and Bob agreed to help, cautioning that it will take several days to get any sort of decent information. The parents decided to set up a neighborhood watch-type program, though it was more 'neighbor watch' since there was only one they were really keeping an eye on.

Kristin and her husband, Chris (yes, they regularly took light ribbing for the similarity in their names) did a walk-by at Henry's house and reported back to the rest of the parents that there was, in fact, a sign posted outside the side door, the candy door. It was short and to the point.

'Dear children,

I'm sorry but I can't give out candy anymore. I hope you understand.

Mister Henry'

Now when the children played there was always an adult outside keeping an eye on them, mostly to make sure they never got too close to Henry's house. They hated having to spend time doing this and worry so much, but in the absence of any actual information about the guy there wasn't much they could do. They were all pretty much just biding their time until Bob could give them the background report.

Apart from seeing his car leave in the morning, presumably to go to work, and come back around noon, there was absolutely no movement or sightings at Henry's house.

*****

This went on for a good two weeks and the longer it went on the more concerned the neighborhood grew, thinking it meant Bob had found something. The kids had expressed disappointment many times about their candy supply drying up and couldn't understand why someone so nice would suddenly stop. The parents offered vague generalities about possible reasons, not wanting to worry the older kids who might understand what they were concerned about and knowing the younger ones wouldn't really get it. Once they had Bob's report they'd spread the word.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the real estate sign with the 'Coming Soon' placard on top went up in his yard.

Finally, Bob called and said he had completed his investigation and was ready to deliver a report. They all gathered in Pam and Doug's living room that Sunday evening. The kids were upstairs or in the backyard playing while the grown-ups talked.

"I feel like we should have our pitchforks and torches ready," quipped Chris, which elicited some nervous laughter.

"Okay," started Bob. "Let's hit the basics first. Henry James Weston, 33 years old, earns in the six figures as a computer engineer and consultant, and also does some web hosting and design on the side. He goes into his office at Alpha Logistics downtown most mornings and spends the rest of the time working from home."

"That explains why he's always home in the afternoons when the kids are outside playing," pointed out Angela.

"He isn't a registered sex offender," Bob continued, "and in fact not only has he never been convicted of any crime but he's never been arrested. He's never even had a speeding ticket, at least not in this state, and he's lived here all of his life."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," said David. "Just because he's never been caught doesn't mean he's never done anything."

"True, though the same could be said for all of you," Bob responded. "Let's focus on what we know rather than supposition."

All the parents nodded their assent and Bob continued.

"I talked with his co-workers and former neighbors and all of those that I spoke to at first were pretty resolute in their high opinion of him. Two of them actually said that whatever I was looking into, if I thought Henry was involved I'd be wasting my time and suggested looking elsewhere. But finally, one of his neighbors said something that pointed me in the right direction."

Bob paused for effect, waiting for someone to verbalize the question he knew they all wanted to ask.

"Well, what'd they say?" Liz finally asked.

"She said that before she would have thought I was crazy, but that he'd been acting quite different ever since the accident and was sure if he had done anything wrong it was because of that. I asked for more information but she wasn't willing to share anymore and left quickly."

"Did you find out what she was talking about?" asked Stacy, Kalina's husband.

"I did. I dug through accident reports and finally found it."

Bob paused just a moment to gather some fortitude. Talking about things like this hadn't gotten any easier for him over the years.

"About 21 months ago, Mr. Weston's wife of nearly 11 years, Jessica, and his two children, Ariel, age 9 and Eric, age 7, were killed by a drunk driver on their way home after having met Mr. Weston for dinner."

"Oh my God!" exhaled Liz, tears creeping out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

Each of the complete couples reflexively took their spouse's hands, suddenly needing the assurance that they were nearby. Bob took in the scene and suspected many of them felt bad enough, and when he continued his report had no doubt that feeling would get even worse.

"After making that discovery I made some more discreet inquiries and found that Mr. Weston has been extremely depressed ever since, which of course is understandable. He's been seeing a counselor a couple times a week ever since and the general opinion is that it really hasn't been very effective."

"My gosh, that poor man," expressed Cara. "I can't even begin to imagine recovering from something like that."

"As to the candy thing, I suspect it has to do with his children. He has expressed to those around him that what is most important to him is to honor the memory of his children. He does this by doing nice things for the children in his life. For example, last Christmas he asked all of his neighbors and co-workers what the most expensive thing their kids wanted for Christmas, and then he bought it for them. All of them. He didn't want his name on the package but just asked that the parent describe in detail how the child reacted when opening the gift."

"He just wanted a little vicarious joy at Christmas," surmised Kristin.

Bob continued. "He used his late wife's life insurance and the settlement from the driver's estate - yes, he was killed as well - to establish scholarship funds in their names. He plans to award two each year, to a female that wants to be a teacher and a male that wants to be a veterinarian. I assume those choices have something to do with his kids as well; probably what they wanted to be."

"Christ!" David suddenly said, louder than he intended. "He probably just wanted to do something nice for the neighborhood kids to make himself feel a little better after losing his own and we all but dragged him out of his house and beat the shit out of him."

"True," Bob agreed, "but your concern was perfectly understandable given the situation and circumstances. Maybe next time it would be handled a little differently but I'm not even sure I would have done anything differently."

"And now he's selling his house because he thinks we all believe he's a child predator," said Angela. "We've driven him from his home."

"Let's be honest," said Victor, Liz's husband. "We did all think he was a child predator, and we treated him like one. I'd say we owe him an apology."

This time leaving just two parents behind to keep an eye on the kids, the remaining adults made their way across the street again, this time in a far more subdued manner than they had previously, when anger and perceived righteousness was fueling their march.

Sitting quietly in his house, Henry watched the crowd make their way across the street and couldn't imagine what he had done to set them off this time. The sign was up and he had stayed inside whenever he was home, afraid that even stepping foot into his backyard would send the wrong message. They surely saw the realty sign in the front yard; why couldn't they just leave him alone until he moved. He held a small hope that they weren't coming to his house but that died as they walked up his driveway and rang the bell.

Henry looked at the crowd and didn't see any weapons so, despite his better judgment, he opened the door. This time he took the initiative.

"I put up the sign. You can check. It's still there. And I haven't talked to any of the kids. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can," he said, gesturing with his eyes toward the sign in the yard.

It was Cara, soft and gentle Cara, that took the lead.

"We know, Henry, and we appreciate you doing as we asked."

"You demanded."

"Yes, you're right, we did. And now we owe you an apology. A pretty big one."

"What're you talking about?"

"We came over here and confronted you without all the facts, and we were wrong. We know that now."

"Is that why that cop was asking all of those questions about me? You were checking me out?"

Cara turned to Doug. "I guess your brother wasn't as discreet as he thought he was." She turned back to Henry. "Yes, we asked Doug's brother to find out about you. You have to understand what it looked like to us."

"Yeah, sure, apology accepted," Henry said as he started to close the door, but Cara quickly put her foot in the way to stop the door from closing, which Henry looked down and saw and then looked back at Cara.

"We'd like you to consider not moving," she said.

"Why? What do you care?"

"Admittedly, we feel bad about what we did and now feel even worse at the idea of making you leave your home. And we'd also like the opportunity to get to know you better, so there aren't any more misunderstandings. I don't think we'd be comfortable with the candy thing, at least not right away, but otherwise..."

Henry glanced from person to person. Their eyes were friendly enough but there was an underlying guilt there, and he suspected this was more a gesture to assuage their own guilt more than anything else.

"I'll think about it," he said in a tone that implied he had no intention of doing any such thing as he tried again to close the door, only to find Cara's foot still firmly lodged there.

"Henry, we...we know about your family."

The countenance on Henry's face changed immediately. They had briefly debated whether they should mention their knowledge of the accident and decided to only use it as a last resort, if they thought they weren't connecting to him. That may have been a bad decision. The door flung fully open and the rage on Henry's face, in fact in his whole body, was unmistakable.

"My family," he growled, and there was no other word for it, "is none of your fucking business! You had no God damn right to dig that up and you certainly have no right to talk about them! Am I being in any way unclear about this?"

The entire assemblage of adults shrank backwards as one. They didn't really think he would assault them in any way but keeping a little distance seemed prudent.

"Henry, we didn't mean to upset you..."

"Then just what in the hell did you mean to do? And don't fucking tell me you understand because I promise you that you don't!"

Cara considered the moment and made a decision, hoping everyone would go along. She turned to her friends.

"Why don't the rest of you go back home. I'd like to speak with Henry alone for a moment. Henry, would that be all right?"

Henry didn't respond, and in fact didn't really even move. Cara took that as agreement and turned back to her friends to encourage them to return to Pam and Doug's house. Her husband, David, didn't move right away, reluctant to leave his wife alone with this guy, and Cara immediately moved to reassure him that she would be just fine. Reluctantly he turned and left, but ultimately stayed outside where he could keep an eye on what was going on.

When the crowd had fully retreated Cara turned back toward Henry. The full extent of his anger was not there anymore but he certainly couldn't be described as calm.

"Henry, my name is Cara and the man watching us from afar is my husband, David. We've handled all of this extremely poorly. We should have welcomed you when you first moved in but we didn't. The truth is that is usually the job of the wives, to welcome new residents. I think we were waiting to see a woman make her appearance and when we didn't see one we let it fall by the wayside. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

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