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  Praise for BELLYACHE: A Delicious Tale

  “The author is talented and imaginative. This is a delightful tale sure to please elementary age students. I eagerly await the next offering by this author.”

  - Readers Favorite

  “‘Bellyache’ is a choice read for younger readers just getting ready to move onto chapter books.”

  - Midwest Book Review

  “Crystal Marcos provides a moving tale to help us learn to forgive, no matter how hard it is. Although this is her first book, she displays through it her startling ability to teach a difficult matter in a fun and appealing way that children will understand. Kids will want to read this book over and over again!”

  - Cecilia Lee, Allbook Reviews

  Winner of a 2011 Readers Favorite Silver Award

  BELLYACHE: A Delicious Tale

  By Crystal Marcos

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2010 by Crystal Marcos

  Author Portrait by Marie Marcos

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote passages in a review.

  Cat Marcs Publishing

  PO Box 54

  Silverdale, WA 98383

  www.CatMarcs.com

  For my “sweet” family and all God’s creatures, great and small.

  Contents

  Helping Papa

  Lunch Time

  Sweetness Overload

  Left Behind

  Look at That!

  Rude and Otherwise

  The Tour

  Nosey Neighbor and a Good Poke

  The Guest Book

  The Tin

  Bella’s House of Food

  The Parade

  The Choice

  The Stench

  Forgiveness

  Run!

  A Familiar Place

  Meet Crystal

  Helping Papa

  It was a school holiday and Peter Fischer had to spend the day working with his grandfather. His parents had jobs and Peter, now ten, felt he was too old for a babysitter. He had never been to work with Papa before. His grandfather owned a sweet shop. Papa’s Sweet Shop. Peter was excited. What fun he would have tasting all the luscious treats!

  Peter planned his day in his head. First, a cupcake with heaps of whipped cream icing. Then, several pieces of chocolate filled with all kinds of wonderful centers. Next, red licorice. He thought black licorice tasted gross; he only knew one person who liked it and that was old man Rupert. Old man Rupert lived a few houses down and was always in the garden, fiddling around with a piece of black licorice dangling out of the corner of his mouth—disgusting.

  After lunch, a peppermint, followed by a chocolate chip cookie, half a brownie—he wanted to save room for other sweets—Tootsie Rolls, and lemon drops. Then, he would take a break from eating and help Papa with the afternoon rush of customers. After the rush, a few gumdrops and gumballs—the blue ones of course—and then gooey taffy, followed by gummy bears and super sour gummy worms. Lastly, he would have his most favorite treat of all, creamy chocolaty peanut butter cups—two or three of them, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

  But Papa had a different plan for Peter.

  “Hello, Peter. I am so glad to have you as my little helper today. As a reward for your work, you may have three pieces of candy.” Papa grinned. “Go on now, pick out what you want and put them in the back for later.”

  “Just three?” Peter moped.

  “I think three is plenty. We don’t want you to get cavities or make yourself sick.” Papa smiled and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “Now go on, pick.”

  Just three, Peter thought to himself. What about all that planning he had done? Well, he would have to think about his choices ever so carefully. Peter took a small plastic plate down from the counter, already knowing one of his choices. He needed to pick the other two. He opened the case to the heavenly chocolates and was nearly knocked off his feet by the grand smells of the freshly made candies. How could he pick just three? He made his first choice, a milk chocolate chunk. He made his second choice, dark-chocolate-covered nougat. He was about to put his last choice, his creamy chocolaty peanut butter cup, onto his plate when he noticed Papa was busy with a customer. He grabbed another peanut butter cup and turned quickly to go to the back room. He put his plate down on the little table next to the picture of Papa and Nana on the wall. He turned around so he wasn’t facing the picture, and devoured the extra peanut butter cup before returning to the front to help Papa.

  Papa asked, “Are you happy with your choices, Peter?”

  “Oh yes, thank you, Papa.”

  “Good, now help me stock the gummy jars before the afternoon rush. Go and get the gummies in the back room,” Papa ordered.

  Peter saw the gummies stacked on a red wagon. He started to roll them to the front of the store when he thought he would have a couple super sour gummy worms and a few gummy bears. No one would ever know the difference. Peter gobbled them up on the way to the front. They were so yummy, and the worms were almost too sour, he was afraid Papa would see his scrunched-up face. But Papa didn’t. Peter stocked the gummies and helped Papa with a few customers.

  One was an incredibly tall woman with bright red hair and a sharp jaw.

  “Peter, come here.” Papa said. “I want you to meet Mrs. Nielson. She has been a customer of mine since the day we opened, and she comes in every Monday for a special batch of fudge. Go and fetch it in the refrigerator, please.”

  “Hello, nice to meet you,” Peter said.

  The woman smiled back.

  Peter looked in the huge walk-in refrigerator and saw a white box labeled “Mrs. Nielson.” He took the box, and right behind it, staring back at him, was more fudge, lots and lots of fudge, stacked high. Surely Papa would not miss just one piece. So he stuffed one in his mouth and swallowed as quickly as possible, almost so fast he couldn’t taste it. On the way to the front, he grabbed one of his own candies off of his plate on the table. It was the milk chocolate chunk, and it was terrific!

  When he saw his grandfather, Peter was still chewing the last bit of his chunk. “I had one of my candies. That’s okay, right?”

  “Of course, Peter, you deserve it.” Papa grinned, taking Mrs. Nielsen’s fudge from Peter.

  Peter watched the door as she left and saw the postman coming in. He was a short man with thick black hair and glasses like Papa’s. He handed Papa a few letters and a medium-sized box marked “Special Delivery” in bright red.

  Wonder what’s in there? Peter thought.

  “Would you like a caramel for the road, Lucian?” Papa asked.

  “You know I would!” admitted Lucian. “And who is this young fellow?”

  “This is my grandson, Peter. He is helping me out around the store today,” Papa said proudly.

  “You must be having a good time,” Lucian said, biting into his caramel. Caramel dripped from his mouth, and he licked his lips to make sure he got every last morsel.

  “Yes, sir,” Peter answered.

  “When your grandfather and I were little, we hardly ever got any candy. You are a very fortunate boy to have a grandfather who owns a sweet shop. Well, I’d love t
o stay, but I must be on my way.”

  Peter thought about what Lucian had said. It was true; he was a fortunate boy. When Peter was younger, Papa told him a story about when he was a boy in Germany and his family did not have much money. A generous neighbor used to put pennies in a tree in their backyard and tell him and his brothers to shake it. The neighbor called it a magic tree. When they shook the magic tree, the pennies fell out and scattered around like copper treasures. It brought the neighbor great joy to see their faces light up. Papa and his brothers would gather up the coins and run straight to the general store to buy some candy. He tried to make his candy last as long as possible, doing things like licking a piece of candy one long stroke at a time instead of sticking the whole thing in his mouth. Now he had a candy shop of his very own.

  The phone rang and brought Peter back to reality. He heard Papa talking but he wasn’t really listening.

  Papa hung up and told Peter to open the bottom drawer near the cupcakes and get out six candies that said “Happy Birthday” on them and put them on six chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting. Papa said he would put them in a box when he came back from using the bathroom. He was sure Peter could cover the store for a few minutes.

  Once Peter was alone, he did as his papa asked. The smell of the mixture of the vanilla and chocolate was too much for him to handle. How fast could he eat a cupcake? He looked at the shelf lined with cupcakes and took one. Peter definitely could eat one fast because it was gone before he knew it, and Papa was not back yet. He shoved the cupcake paper into the front pocket of his cargo shorts.

  At that moment, Papa appeared with a box for the cupcakes. He even had purple and red ribbon to tie it with.

  “I need you to take these down to Ruthie’s Carpets.” Papa reached into the penny dish. “Make sure you give them this when they give you the money.” He handed him a penny.

  Inside Ruthie’s, a small bundle of fluff greeted him at the door and he nearly dropped the cupcakes from surprise. It was a dog who was sniffing Peter’s shoe. A woman with peppered white hair called the dog over and waved Peter in. The woman’s name tag said “Ruthie.”

  “Hello, I have your cupcakes.”

  “Thank you very much. Joyce has been trying to keep her birthday a secret from us, but we found out and couldn’t let it pass by without doing anything,” Ruthie said.

  Suddenly, there were four other people beside him. One man said, laughing, “We smelled those cupcakes and came runnin’!”

  “I am going to pass on the cupcake,” a robust man said, patting his stomach. “I promised my doctor I would watch what I eat.”

  He turned to Peter and asked, “Hey, kid, do you want mine?”

  Peter looked at Ruthie for approval.

  “If it doesn’t spoil your lunch, I don’t see why not,” she answered.

  “No, it won’t,” said Peter.

  They sang “Happy Birthday” to Joyce and ate the cupcakes. Peter was right; they loved them. Ruthie gave Peter the money, and he made sure to give her the penny before he headed back to Papa. On his way back, he felt a little grumble in his stomach. He knew that feeling…he was starting to get full. He thought to himself he would lay off of eating anything for a while. Another grumble.

  Lunch Time

  When Peter arrived at the store, he heard a familiar song. As soon as the off-key notes hit his ears, he knew who was there. Nana!

  Peter watched Papa bending down to pick a piece of trash off the floor to throw it away. Papa pushed his glasses back up on his nose again when he turned to face Peter. Peter thought Papa really should tape those things to his ears. It may look a little funny but at least he wouldn’t have to keep fixing them all day.

  “I hear Nana’s song.” Peter smiled.

  Papa chuckled. “Yes, she is in the back. She has brought us a nice lunch.”

  “Lunch?” Peter thought he might get sick. Hopefully it would be for much later.

  Peter handed his grandfather the money for the birthday cupcakes and found Nana in the back room, unpacking a large blue carrying case.

  Oh no! Peter’s head screamed. I’ll just tell her I am not hungry. No, I can’t. She might catch on. I could still have room to eat…not a lot of room.

  “Peter, come over here and give me a hug. I missed you!” Nana shrieked with joy.

  Nana always said she missed him even though she had seen him just two days earlier. Peter wrapped his arms around his grandmother. He still couldn’t touch his hands together. He figured one day his arms would be long enough to do that.

  “I have made lunch for us all: turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce, carrot sticks, and milk.” Nana beamed.

  Peter smiled back and said, “Thanks, Nana,” even though he wished she hadn’t brought anything.

  “Now go and wash up so we can eat,” she ordered.

  Peter stood there for a moment. How could he eat all that? He knew he would have to because Nana always made him clean his plate. She would say that a growing boy needs his energy.

  Papa interrupted his thoughts when he stuck his head in the doorway.

  “Peter, you have a visitor. Come and see who it is.”

  “A visitor?” Peter wondered who it was.

  At any rate, he did not really care as long as he did not have to eat right now.

  When Peter arrived at the front, he saw a blond man. He did not recognize him. He did not see anyone else. Then Papa moved a little to the right and he saw his visitor. It was Lina Young. He was happy to see her. He really liked Lina because she wasn’t a girly girl. They would hang out at recess sometimes and talk mostly about baseball and other sports if they weren’t playing them.

  Lina was pretty tough, too. One time they were sitting on a bench and looking at one of her dad’s sports magazines. An older kid, Harmon, came over and bellowed, “What are you girls looking at? Probably a ladies’ magazine! Hey, Peter, why are you hanging out with a girl, and one who is Asian anyway!”

  Hearing that made Peter mad, but before he had a chance to react, Lina had Harmon in a headlock and was shoving the magazine in his face, pointing out, “I don’t read sissy magazines, and even if I did, it is none of your business! What makes me different is what makes me special!” It was funny to see a petite girl holding an older, much taller kid in a headlock. Harmon never bugged them again.

  “Hi, Peter. So this is what you are doing on your day off. Cool.” Lina nodded in approval.

  Peter saw the blond man moving closer, and he stopped right next to Lina.

  “Dad, this is Peter, my friend. Peter, this is my dad,” she said, gesturing to them both. They exchanged hellos.

  She must have seen the confusion on Peter’s face. “My mom is Filipino,” she informed him.

  Peter nodded in acknowledgement.

  “My dad said I could get some stuff that has to last all week. Wanna help me?”

  Peter helped Lina pick out a variety of treats while Papa and Mr. Young chatted. Peter made sure to take his time with Lina. Every minute meant he did not have to eat Nana’s lunch. He found out Lina’s favorite sweet shop treat was the Jelly Belly Prehistoric Dinosaur Egg. Peter agreed that they were pretty good, with the speckled outer shell formed into an egg filled with milk chocolate, and the cool surprise inside: a dinosaur-shaped fruit snack candy.

  He also found out that Lina did not care for gum. She said she hadn’t chewed the stuff since she was six years old and she fell asleep with a large wad in her mouth and it ended up in her hair and left eyebrow. Her parents had to cut her hair into a bob to get all the gum out and would have had to shave her eyebrow too if the peanut butter they rubbed on it hadn’t worked. That is when she decided to keep her hair shorter because it was faster to get ready for school in the morning and easier to play sports.

  Lina made sure to get her mother a slice of dark chocolate fudge. She said, “My dad and I wouldn’t touch this; we aren’t dark chocolate fans.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust.

  “I don’t m
ind it,” Peter said.

  Lina grimaced.

  After they gathered up what they decided was a good stash of sweets, her dad paid, and Peter and his Papa watched them leave. Peter thought that he wasn’t any less hungry.

  Papa looked at his watch and said, “Time for lunch.” He walked to the front door and turned the sign over and moved the red hands of the clock to say, “Be back at 12:30 p.m.”

  Shoot, Peter thought.

  Nana sat at the neatly set lunch table, knitting something that he was pretty sure was a hat of some kind.

  “What are you knitting?” Peter asked her.

  “A cap for your new baby cousin, just like the one I made for you when you were a baby,” Nana replied, patting Peter on his head.

  He was sick of hearing about the baby this and the baby that. Up until now, Peter had been the youngest grandchild, and it had been pretty cozy. He did not think the baby was all that great, anyway. He had no hair and looked purple and shriveled. Prune Baby.

  Peter took his time washing his hands and getting seated at the table, where he fidgeted for a while before starting to eat. The sandwich wasn’t as tasty as usual, not because of Nana’s sandwich-making skills but because nothing tastes as good if you are not hungry. Towards the end of lunch, Peter’s cargo shorts began to get tight around the waist, and he was starting to feel bloated. As usual, Nana made sure he cleared his plate. He did not think he could finish the last bite. He tried to leave it on his plate, when Nana gave him the look that meant, “Finish up eating.” He reluctantly chewed and swallowed it. Thank goodness I am done, Peter thought. Nana got up and went to the front and quickly returned. She had a chocolate chip cookie in each hand.

  “Papa and I decided since you were such a good helper today that you could have a cookie for dessert,” Nana said, handing Peter a cookie.