The Chocolate Candy Man - Visitor's Story

by Maria Fadli
(Los Angeles, California, USA)

Every night I take the train to work. I ride the Metro Rail blue line to Imperial Highway, Wilmington, Rosa Parks's station. I then transfer from the blue line to the green line. The blue line is often crowded with hardly a seat available. There are a lot of people, standing, talking out loud, to themselves, to others, and to their cell phones. The last car is always the most crowded filled with bikes, baby carriages, and recycling carts. There is all kind of people in the train, but mainly there are panhandlers, vendors, hustlers, gangs, homeless, as well as workers commuting. Among them, every night, a man selling chocolate candy. This is about that man.

I saw him almost every night, but it was a while before I started buying chocolates from him. He walked up and down the train cars, selling five small pieces of chocolate for a dollar. He had the same clothes all the time, a black jacket, buttoned all the way to his neck, and black jeans. He appeared to be on his late 30s, heavy weight, always smiling. As soon as he checked out the action in the train, he put on a pair of clear eye glasses, which had a piece of carton sticking out the sides with the sign, "50 cents". I bought candy from him although I really did not need to. I saved my coins and small bills to have it readily available in case he had no change. As soon as I saw him entering the train car, I signaled to him to let him know I was buying. We became acquainted.

About a month later, I was waiting for the train in my home station, when I saw him running on the platform towards the exit. His face was bloody. He was agitated. I watched the blood running from his head, nose, and neck, to his jacket, down to the ground. I asked him what happened. He said that he was hurt, beaten up, robbed, for his candy and money. He said he fought back but the guy was big and bad. And that he would look for him until he finds him.

I told him the California Medical Center Hospital was few blocks away. And asked him to go to the ER, be treated, to report the assault. I also told him the police report would be useful to apply for crime victim's compensation. My train was approaching the station, I was going to work, I had to go.

Several days later, I saw him again. He was entering the train holding a plastic container. He had the candy there. He did not have the glasses on, so I wondered if his glasses have been lost in the scuffle. I asked him. Smiling, he pulled them out of his pocket and showed me he had them. He looked at me puzzled as if wondering why I asked. I said, I thought you lost them, that they were broken in the assault. He laughed again and said, never, ever, forever!

We talked for a while. He said business was slow. I told him to change the product, sell something different. He laughed saying everybody else that kept changing products trying different things were unsuccessful, so he was sticking to the same thing for people will not buy anything else but candy.

A boy entered the train car selling large bars of chocolate for a dollar. I noticed how he backed up and allowed the boy to offer the chocolate. The boy continued selling as if he never noticed him. When he entered the next car, a teenager girl came in selling candy. She quickly moved between the seats. He signaled allowing her to sell, but I never saw a reaction from her. Then he signaled me to buy from her. I signaled, "No". He signed, "Why?" I signed because I will buy from him. He laughed. When she left, he put on his glasses and offered the chocolates. When I tried to buy, he gave them to me for free.

Few weeks later, I saw him. He looked tired, the smile gone, and so were the glasses. I asked him if he had found the man he was looking for and had another scuffle. He said he was looking for his son, and sat next to me asking about me.

We got engaged in conversation. He asked me what kind of work I did, where was I going to so late at night, why was I always reading. I told him that I worked the graveyard shift, that I was a writer, and that I liked reading. I told him I was going to write about him. He laughed but told me not to put his picture in the story. I asked him, where I was going to get a picture from him, that I have not taken any pictures of him. He said from the newspapers. I asked, "What are you talking about?" He laughed.

As the train stops passed us, I kept asking him if we were approaching my stop. He kept answering that not yet, calling the stops as we passed them. I could not hear the stops being called by the conductor. I felt the train running fast, non-stop. When he called Artesia and I looked out the window and saw a big casino, I knew I missed my stop. I turned to him, he quickly ran out of the train, in a flash, he was gone, the train doors closed. I got off the train in the next stop at Del Amo. The station was empty. I saw a young teenager boy looking at me on the platform. I walked towards him to ask about the next train. He did not answer.

I waited for a while before I asked again. He said the train will be arriving in few minutes. I was concerned about being in the station alone. I tried to make conversation. He stared at me without talking, I felt a chill. Nevertheless, I shared that I missed my train stop on Wilmington. I told him I was talking with a man who sold chocolates in the train. He came closer, looked me in the eye, and asked me. "The man; he got off on Artesia?" He turned towards me quickly, his eyes wide-opened. He asked again, "Did he?" I said "yes" He asked me again, "And, that man had eyeglasses with cardboard sticking out with the words 50 cents?" I said, "Yes, that's him!"

The boy walked away. I followed him. He waited for me to catch up with him. I asked him, if he knew him. He turned his head away from me without answering. I asked him if there was something wrong. He asked me who was I? I did not know what to respond. After a long silence, he said, that man, was my father! He said his father was robbed and killed in the Artesia train station three years ago.

I was gasping. He continued talking, the words flying out of his mouth, he was excited, and said that he used to ride the train with his father at night and on weekends. I was crying now. He said that his father was teaching him to sell. That night he's supposed to meet him in Artesia but that he missed the stop and got off at Del Amo. That he was looking for him. I asked him, "Looking?", "You?", "You are looking for him?", "Your father looking for you?" He told me he was looking for his son but words were muffled by the whistles of the approaching train.

The train was fast approaching, entering the station, screeching, stopping, opening the doors. I went in the train and sat next to a window looking out for the boy but he was not there. I looked back but he was not behind me. As the train began to move, I began to cry. I looked at the empty streets and wondered how lonely the boy must have felt. I cried for him and for the father and for me, but I was not scared.

The conductor announced the approaching of the Artesia station. I had continued looking out the window. As the train was entering the station, I saw them. Both the chocolate candy man and the boy were standing in the platform. I wondered how the boy have gotten there before the train? I wished I could go out the window - I knocked on the window and made hand signals trying to get their attention but they were involved with each other. They did not noticed me. There were other people standing on the platform - no one looking at them - they were looking at nobody, the train moving, passing through.

I waited for them to board the train - the train began to move, they were still out there, disappearing as the train speed away from the Artesia station. I felt a chill, and closed my eyes. I wished to get off the train but had to keep on going. My stop was next. I was crying again, and by the time the train got to my stop - Imperial Highway - Wilmington, I was still crying. I got off the train and looked around for the elevator. I walked to the elevator - and heard the train whistle, taking off. I stopped, waited for the train to pass. I looked inside the train cars and saw them there together laughing walking the aisles with their plastic container selling candy.

The End.