Writing Assignment 3...A Favorite Childhood Memory

THE COUNTRY STORE

The dusty steps creaked under my tennis shoes as I scampered up to the worn wooden porch. Hands sticky with sweat from gripping the chains on the swings, and the back of my legs the color of a ripe tomato from going down the scorching metal slide, I had one last stop before going home. The screen door slammed, its hinges screeching like an angry cat when her tail is pulled. A breath of cool air brushed my face, welcoming me inside out of the bright sun. A musty smell of cinnamon, dried apples, and wood smoke filled the room.
Straight ahead was a wood stove, cold to the touch in the summer, surrounded by old crates, quilts with colorful shapes and patterns, and heavy iron tools hanging on the wall and scattered on the floor. The ancient checkerboard, with its faded red and black painted squares and round, smooth pieces, lay waiting for a rematch on a barrel in the corner. But the object of my attention was the long glass counter with the old-fashioned black cash register. Behind the glass, rows of small boxes held candy of every shape and color. Gummy worms in neon shades of green, pink, and blue, long strands of cherry red licorice next to tight braids of the black kind, and small squares of thick chocolate fudge: white, brown, and almost black. A rainbow of gummy bears sat next to shiny red disks called “penny candy” and chocolate-covered pretzels. The man behind the counter filled a little brown paper bag with a scoop of the vivid red gummy fish for the two shiny quarters my mom gave to spend on a treat.
The paper bag crackled as I rolled it closed. I followed the plinking sound of ivory keys to the back of the store for a last look at my favorite piece in the store. Standing upright in a corner against the wooden plank walls, the ancient piano played a lively tune for a quarter a song, begging its listeners to skip merrily around the toy displays. I loved to sit on the wobbly stool and pretend to play, placing my fingers on the creamy white keys as they danced up and down with the music, waiting for the part where all ten fingers crashed down at once in a rousing chord. Dum!
With a final brush of the keys with my fingers, I grasped the paper bag tightly in my other hand and scampered out to the porch. Stopping on the steps, I unrolled the bag and dug inside for a piece of candy fish. Popping the treat on my tongue, I savored the sugary sweet flavor before starting to chew. I handed the bag to my mom, grinning up at her with red candy still stuck to my teeth, and skipped down the steps to the dusty road and the car waiting to take us back home.