Free Banana Man (a Novella) by Christian Blake Page A

bucks a buck!” He slapped the counter to finalize his statement. All the fuss and the old man’s rising blood pressure got his glasses rocking on the end of his nose. Despite being upset, Danny couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to fall off.
     
    Faye turned to Danny and her demeanor instantly softened; she went from mean old lady to nice as pie. Like a loving grandmother, she gently grasped Danny by the shoulders and, with a smile, brushed off some of the mud from his distraught face. Then she spoke to him very softly, “You go pick out a soda to take home with you. Take any one you want.”
     
    The old man stood up and pounded the countertop with a clenched fist. His white mustache twitched with anger, and his glasses slipped off the end of his nose. He barely caught them in time before they struck the floor. Farmer Cleary started to protest. He held his finger in the air and his mouth open, ready to fire off some angry words, but Faye turned and jabbed a finger in his direction, and stopped him cold before he could utter a sound. She said, “And you, Mr. a bucks a buck, you sit your wrinkly butt down. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you.”
     
    Farmer Cleary shut his mouth. He sat down on that wooden stool and scoffed. He was so angry that Danny thought he saw steam coming out his ears. He muttered to himself, loud enough so Faye could hear him but quiet enough so she couldn’t understand a word. Then he picked up the paper and pretended to read it.
     
    She turned back to Danny and became nice as pie again. “Pick a soda. Any soda.”
     
    Even though he was upset and hurt that Farmer Clearly had sold the last issue of Banana Man, the offer of free soda distracted Danny. He knew she was trying to make him feel better. Adults always gave kids stuff when they screwed up. The distraction worked, and Danny’s thoughts drifted toward an ice cold soda.
     
    He meandered his way over to the refrigerator. Her words echoed in his mind with each step: any soda . He planted his little hands on the cold glass doors and peered inside. A multitude of ice cold sodas stared back at him. Every flavor he had ever tasted was in there, and some new ones. How in the world could he choose one? There were so many. Overwhelmed at the array of soda pop before him, he glanced back toward Faye for encouragement, and she smiled. Behind her, Mr. Cleary peeked over his newspaper and watched Danny’s every move.
     
    Danny suddenly had the answer. He knew what kind he was going to get. He scanned through the sodas until he found it. Then he pulled open the glass door and wrapped his fingers around an ice cold bottle of cherry cola. Before he pulled it out of the fridge, he glanced back to make sure his choice was acceptable. Faye nodded, and Danny grabbed it and returned to the counter.
     
    She handed his dollar back to him, and he stuffed it into his front pocket. Then she grabbed a brown lunch bag from behind the counter and slipped his soda inside. Next, she tossed a couple candy bars in.
     
    Mr. Cleary, still peeking over the newspaper, got annoyed at the free candy bars. “Why don’t you bring your dad over, Danny, and take everything in the store!”
     
    “Oh hush!” Faye said. “Now go home Danny. Next time we get Banana Man, I promise I’ll hold a copy for you.”
     
    “Will not!” snapped Mr. Cleary.
     
    She shot a glance at her husband, and he quickly hid behind the newspaper again.
     
    “Thanks,” Danny said. It wasn’t much consolation for losing Banana Man, but every kid loved soda and candy bars, even more so when they were free.
     
    “You’re welcome honey. Now go home to your father,” she said.
     
    Danny walked out the door, and Faye followed him outside.
     
    She stood on the wooden porch under the eave and leaned against a support post with badly chipping paint. She watched Danny while he walked away, his little hand clutching the brown bag.
     
    Before he rounded the first block, he