Pennies and Pralines

James would always keep a bag of pennies in his back pocket, and every day the bag would get a few pennies heavier. The pennies were made of chidlerns, there were more than enough of them ever since they started growing in the ground. He kept the pennies in a leather bag, one of mysterious descent but had been kept in his family. Hard to do these days, when chidlern go in and out like seasons. But the Belmont’s only ever had one, and he was his parents' one. Grew right from the ground, the only one who did not spring up and rot away.

James came from a lineage of conjure women. Black women whose suffering crystallized in their hearts, and leaked into their fingers. James felt that crystal in his chest, on the left side where his heart should be. His great-great-grandmother used to say that some conjure women paid the price for weaponizing their pain in awful mysterious ways. James assumed that his ancestors had made a hard decision that stuck even now. He didn’t mind either way, without the crystal in his chest, and the rhinestone in his fingers he wouldn’t be able to turn chidlern into pennies and protect himself.

There was a family that lived way down the way on the bend that took him to the general store. They were made of two women, married, redheads, and with a big farm and lots of chidlerns. Sometimes, James would ask his mom for some money and would walk his way down to the general store. There he’d fill his pockets with candies like pralines and cowtails and then march his way back on down to the house by the bend and peek over the fence to the farm. The two women, Annabeth and Riley were awful kind but could never keep track of how many children they grew.

On a Sunday morning in August perfect Chidlern season, Annabeth and Riley were off to church. James had filled his pockets with candies and began peeking his small head over the yellowed white fence and waved to the kids playing in the farm. He could tell they had just finished growing. All three of them looked to be around eleven to twelve, his age. “Hey there, hey.” He called to them. Though they still had the dirt on their heads and roots growing from their ears, they looked at him like he had about five heads. James could just tell just by looking that if they knew a word to call him they’d be yelling it from the rooftops.

In their few days of life, those chidlerns had never seen a Black person before. James wasn’t sure what they put in the water when they grew those seeds, especially two kind ladies like Annabeth and Riley. But some of their chidlern grew up with hate in their heart. Or at least an aversion to brown skin and cotton black hair. The sticky look on their faces made the crystal on the left side of his chest melt a bit. “Hey now I got y’all some candy,” he said, his voice a whisper not wanting to alert the older kids to his misdeeds.

He reached into his pocket and offered some cowtails over the fence, waving them in the air. Chidlern probably didn’t even have names yet, but something primal drew them closer to the sweet-looking sticks. Annabeth’s chidlerns drew closer curiosity painting over the sticky look on their faces, but James still remembered them well. He squeezed the cowtails a few times, putting a little bit of goopha into them. When the chidlerns were close enough to touch him he dropped the cowtails into their hands not giving them a chance to touch him and ruin his concentration.

“Hey whatchu doing there boy?” Came a high-pitched voice from the back of the farm. It was none other than little Terrance, Annabeth’s only surviving boy from the last harvest. He was just about eight years old, only having been topside for about two years. One of the smarter chidlern that James had seen, but not the fastest. “Now don’t you go and eat those cowtails, you ninnies!” He yelled beginning to pick up pace, running towards the fence.

It was already too late for the three new lopsided ninnies, they had torn into the cowtails. Just one bite was all it took for the goopha to start working through their bodies. They made small yelps as their skin began to brown. Terrance stopped in his run nearly stepping on sproutlings still growing. “Gahd dammit!” He swore throwing his hat to the ground, this had been the second time he had watched this happen.

The chidlern made small yelps of pain as they shrunk, and shrunk some more. Their bodies contorted, rounded, and flattened until they were the size of a penny. “Now you get on out of here James, you had no business doing what you done did.” Terrance's little face was beet red, and his hands were balled into fists. James thought he could have been grown from an apple tree with the way he looked.

“Now Terrance you should be thanking me, we don’t need any more little stinking chidlerns running around here.” James opened his hand and the pennies leaped into them. He looked carefully at the little faces that they made, he always thought they were cute. Terrance glared at him but didn’t contest, he was a reasonable boy after all. “Hey there Terrance have this,” He placed the pennies in his little leather bag and pulled a praline from his pocket.

Terrance made no moves to get closer to him, his eyebrow quirking a bit but the red began to leave his cheeks. “Goopha free,” James promised, taking a bite of the candy before throwing the rest to Terrance. In a way, it felt like a business transaction, and he, a businessman. Terrance bent over picking up the candies that lay in front of him. “You better git before my ma’s come back and I let ‘em know you’ve been using goopha on the chidlerns.” With that James gave Terrance a wink, and backed away from the yellowed picket fence, whistling as he walked back home.