Tootsie took the bus to the supermarket. Her kids had known better than to be free for the errand. If they helped her with the groceries, she would insist on cooking for them. All of her children struggled with the kind of woman who would say hello and turn the stove on at the same time. Her food was always rich using what she felt were the best ingredients. That translated to butter, sugar and salt.
Tootsie pulled the cord to indicate her stop was approaching and stood from the bus seat. The burden of her flesh was fundamental in causing her breathing to labor just reaching for the strap to hold her weight. The bus swayed and Tootsie struggled to hold her stance. A young man sitting behind her braced his arms to distribute her weight in the event of a fall.
“Whoa! Almost got yourself a date,” Tootsie said and let her mouth curl up into a smile. The bus came to a stop. Tootsie looked at the young man and said, “You're sweet,” and dragged her hand along his cheek before pulling her weight forward to stop at the driver. “You be sweet,” she suggested, “lower the bus?”
The driver did as he was asked. The bus beeped and lowered so that the door met the curb. Tootsie watched as the mechanics did their job and then turned to the bus driver. She handed him a caramel crème candy she had pulled from her purse.
“You're sweet to old ladies and sweet old ladies be sweet to you,” Tootsie said releasing the candy from her hand to his.
She stepped off the bus and waddled from the curb to the automatic doors of the market stopping every few steps for a deep breath. A bird flew in her path. Tootsie fished in her purse and found a brown paper bag with a slice of pound cake to drop on the ground for the bird. It clicked its beak and bobbed its head, transforming the slice into crumbs.
The market had a special price for locally made prepackaged snack cakes. Tootsie claimed one box for herself, opened it and ate the cakes as she shopped with no shame or guilt.
“Should you,” a short man asked her, “be eating that before you buy it?”
“I will pay. I have money.”
“But do they let you, “ he started to ask and looked around before continuing, “eat it before you?”
“You work for the store?”
“No ma'am.”
“Do you want a cake?” Tootsie reached in the box to get another small pastry and hold it out for him to take.
“Well, I,” He stammered.
“Fill your mouth with sweet instead of questions.”
The man did as he was told.
Tootsie leaned on her cart and put her head in her hand.
“Are you alright,” her new friend asked?
“Oh fine. My son does not like sweet food but today is his birthday. I need to make something he will like so he have sweet birthday.”
Tootsie decided on strawberry shortcake. She discovered her new friend to be Trevor Caldor. He helped Tootsie with her groceries and she did not think it strange that he had none of his own. When it was time for her to take the bus home, he offered to drive her in his truck.
Trevor pulled up to Tootsie's home and stopped the engine. It was his intention to put her things into her kitchen. Tootsie carried nothing inside.
“Such sweetness from young man. Sit. I repay you.”
Without hesitation, Trevor took a seat and Tootsie spread berry preserves on a slice of white bread, sprinkled it with sugar and placed it down before him. He picked up the slice of bread and ate it while Tootsie went to work whipping butter and cream. She talked about her children and her grandchildren. He smiled and nodded and sharing stories of his own life in return.
Tootsie and Trevor laughed all afternoon. Finally, when Tootsie was finished baking the cake for her son as well as a chocolate layer cake for Trevor to take home with him, Tootsie sat on a chair scarcely sturdy enough to support her girth. The table shifted as her belly expanded and withdrew with every forced breath.
“You're a sweet boy Trevor,” Tootsie said with a sigh knowing he would be leaving her for whatever he needed to attend in his own life. “I remember sweet.” Tootsie exhaled audibly and closed her eyes. “I forget sour.”
Trevor pushed his chair back from the table and said, “Miss Tootsie, I really must go, but I would like to come back for more sweets.”
She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her mouth curled into a smile revealing her crooked and yellowed teeth that did not quite seem to fit in her mouth. She clarified, “You come back for more sweet?”
Trevor rose, kissed Tootsie on the head and said, “Yes ma'am; I'll come back for more sweets. When?”
“When you want sweet.”
Trevor left but returned as promised to Tootsie's home the very next morning. He brought with him a box of doughnuts for them to eat and a duffel bag that he let rest on the table.
Again, Tootsie sat with Trevor at her kitchen table. She poured a sweet drink for him that was more like a melted popsicle than juice. She made a warm custard that she spooned over a pie crust made from lard, white flower, sugar and salt. She then promised they would eat the treat after a lunch of tomato soup, which she made by adding sugar and honey to garlic, onions, bacon fat and tomatoes.
When Trevor felt he had to close his eyes in gluttonous indulgent satisfaction, he sighed and said , “Miss Tootsie, you know how to sweeten a boy up!”
“I ain't do much work for you. You was sweet from your mama.”
Trevor replied with a laugh and said, “I don't know if that's true, but I think I want to offer you a job.”
“I got no work left in me sweet boy. Didn't have much to begin with,” Tootsie said. She laughed from her throat with a hoarse roar causing a wheeze and snort from her nose.
Trevor pulled a card from his lapel and said, “I think you have just the cachinnatory vigor my people are looking for.”
“I don't know what you said, but I ain't got that.”
Trevor placed his hand on Tootsie's and smiled. He said, “It means I like the way you laugh while you sweeten me up.”
Tootsie smiled, letting her neglected teeth show. “I got plenty a laugh. What else you want for work?”
Trevor placed the card on the table. Tootsie grabbed the card immediately as if it was a sugar coated cookie pulling it close to her face to smell the ink and look closely at the words printed upon it. She spun the card in her stout fingers. One side was purple with orange lettering while the other was blue with yellow. On the one side, the card read, Sacchariferous Shifter; on the other, Sweets Maker.
“These are big words,” Tootsie exhaled.
“My people need someone who knows how to feed others. We don't care if you can cook. We want our guests to eat.” Trevor reached into the duffel bag and pulled a canister that was remarkably like the canisters Tootsie had on her counter. “This is very special sugar.”
Tootsie yanked the jar from his hands and spun the lid counterclockwise without waiting for him to offer it to her. She licked her index finger and plunged it into the jar coating it. She then held it up in the sunbeam streaming in the window.
“Is this sugar,” Tootsie asked as she squinted her eyes to look at the minuscule crystals clinging to her finger, “pink and green and blue and gold?”
“It is.” Trevor stood and took Tootsie's canister reading Sugar from the counter and stuffed it into his duffel bag. “It's clown sugar. And the people I work for are the clowns.”
Tootsie placed her finger in her mouth and closed her eyes in ecstasy.
“Clown sugar is sweet,” Tootsie said pushing her finger deep into the canister to coat her finger over and over again each time licking it in between sugary plunges.
Trevor nodded. He stood and reached in her utensil drawer to get a spoon for Tootsie, seeming to know exactly where she keeps all things. As she spooned the crystals into her mouth, Trevor said, “Sugars and sweets for clowns Tootsie.” He raised his eyebrows but she was not looking at him. She was focused on the canister of sugar. The more she ate, the more she wanted.
“Tootsie, you have a very special gift that you need to share.”
“I tell you I'm not special.”
“But you are,” Trevor said. He took the canister from her hands and turned the lid to seal the crystals inside. “The clowns need to be sweetened Tootsie. We need you to use this sugar for cakes and cookies and candies and whatever you make that feeds people in joy.”
Tootsie smiled. Her eyes darted from Trevor's eyes to the canister in his hands. “I get sugar?”
Trevor nodded and leaned back in the chair keeping hold of the canister. “Oh, yes Tootsie, you get the sugar.
“We need someone to bake and assure the clowns who come to our parties are sweetened.”
Tootsie salivated and was unable to control a dribble of saliva from her lip.
Trevor opened the canister again and continued, “You noticed the sugar has some color that regular sugar does not have. You may have also noticed that this jar of sugar is as full now as when I gave it to you, even though you ate quite a bit of it.”
Tootsie wanted to ask if the canister was magic. She wanted to have the jar back in her hands to inspect the properties of the glass. No. she wanted just to pour more sugar into her mouth and taste the sweetness again. She sat anxiously waiting for Trevor to give her the sugar again.
“You want more Tootsie, don't you?”
“Yes,” Tootsie whispered.
Trevor pushed the canister to Tootsie and without hesitation, she shoved her hand into the mouth of the jar. Pulling a handful of sugar into her mouth she closed her eyes as she ate it again in a delirious trance.
“I have to go to a school tomorrow to meet a troupe of clowns for a performance. Can you make some cupcakes and juice for the students?”
“Yea,” Tootsie looked at Trevor with glazed eyes and dragged out the only syllable her throat allowed to escape indicating she could perform the task.
Trevor told Tootsie he would return the next morning to pick up her and the snacks.
“You must come with me to sweeten the kids.”
“I sweeten kids,” Toosie said and nodded assuring Trevor she would be available for him the next morning.
Δ ΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔ Δ Δ Δ Δ
Trevor and Tootsie walked into the auditorium of a primary school. Tootsie was directed to a table that had been set up covered with striped a striped plastic drape. Trevor sent a clown out to his truck to get the juice and cupcakes Tootsie prepared.
Tootsie leaned on the table waiting for her sweets. Having exerted her energies, she could not hear Trevor giving instructions to clowns over her grunts of shallow breath.
The clown returned with pink boxes. Tootsie waved her hands in the air gesturing to the table. Tootsie set the cupcakes on the table and arranged them by color. She asked Trevor, “Enough sweet?”
Trevor smiled and said, “Yes, perfect. The kids are going to come in and take cupcakes, then sit to watch the clowns on stage. When the performance is over, we need to give them the juice. Make sure everyone gets the sweets.”
Tootsie smiled and put a cupcake in her mouth. She said, “I give sweet,” immodestly showing the frosting coating her tongue and gums.
Trevor wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and said, “Yes, you do.”
Kids filed in and each took a cupcake. Tootsie reached into the boxes that held her sweet treats and replenished the cupcakes as they were taken from the table. The supply was more than enough. In fact, she noticed there did not seem to be an end to the supply just as the sugar did not wane in the canister when given to her by Trevor the day before.
Music played, clowns came on stage and performed for the children. The children applauded and laughed. Trevor handed out flyers for the children to take home with them encouraging them to sign up for a camp with the clowns.
At the end of the performance, clowns ran up and down the aisles popping balloons that had fallen from the ceiling releasing glitter all over the children. The children squealed with every pop both startled and enthralled.
The sunlight that came through the windows even seemed to dim when the performance came to an abrupt halt. The children paused a moment in silence, then erupted in applause and a standing ovation for the clowns as they gathered once again on the stage.
The teachers quieted their classes and led them out from the rows of chairs, past Tootsie's table so that she could put a cup of sugary fruit flavored drink into their hands. She did her work quietly but with a smile that grew each time a child took a cup.
Trevor came to Tootsie and said, “Put cupcakes out for the clowns now.” His demeanor changed slightly. He commanded Tootsie. He almost demanded it of her. Tootsie complied nodding. She reached under the table for the box again and opened the lid. It was full again of multi-colored cupcakes sprinkled with the rainbow crystals. Tootsie knew she had worked tirelessly on the cakes, but she was still perplexed at the unending volume
“Tootsie,” Trevor exclaimed! “How did you ever get all these cakes made,” he asked facetiously?
Tootsie pulled Trevor closer to her and said quietly, “Sugar gave me these.” Tootsie contorted her body and from her sides, two extra arms grew. Even her clothing altered to accommodate the added appendages.
Trevor laughed! He knew how Tootsie achieved the volume. He knew that anything made with the sugar will multiply as much as needed. He took her aside and said, “We don't have to clean up. You've done enough work. Let me take you home.”
“There is cake left. May I take some home?” Tootsie turned back to the table she had manned.
“Yes Tootsie, you may have some cake.” Trevor picked up a handful of cupcakes and gave them to her. She held the cakes in two hands while pushing them into her mouth with her other two. Just as they multiplied in the boxes, the cupcakes multiplied in her hands keeping her mouth full of cake the entire ride home as Trevor spoke.
“Laughter Tootsie, makes light. And sweet people have the loudest laughter, so they have the brightest light. Clowns need light. Do you understand?”
Tootsie nodded while grunting in the cloying voracity.
“There are other ways of course to come into light; but, the fastest is in the laughter.” Trevor paused to give Tootsie and opportunity to ask any questions she had. She was hardly quiet, but she had no questions. “The best way,” he reiterated, “to come into light is to laugh.
“Now Tootsie, clowns need light. They are the light. They eat the light and the light eats them. Do you understand?”
Tootsie did not understand. She did not care. She just wanted to continue consuming the sugar. She could not comprehend how light could ever consume her.
“Do you feel how happy you are now Tootsie? Did you see how happy those children were today?”
Tootsie stopped eating and looked at Trevor. His eyes were gold and he seemed to shine with an illumination that made her understand the things he was saying. Tootsie nodded to indicate he should continue.
“Everyone in the world wants to become ethereal. People have been looking to the sun since antiquity to show them the way to a greater purpose. We provide the route to that purpose.”
Tootsie stopped Trevor from talking. She cocked her head and asked, “How big is we?”
“Tootsie, there is a network of clowns controlling legalized oddities with nonsense and shenanigans. We control who is providing enjoyment so that we can assure it is boisterous merriment in the world. With every laughter, there is a transformation into light.”
Tootsie looked at the skin on her hands and noticed it shone like Trevor's. She smiled and noticed the glow increased. She saw something physical catch the light and reflect it on her fingertip. Tootsie wrung her hands together. The more she rubbed, the more shiny her hands became and she found herself laughing aloud at the nonsense occurring right before her eyes.
Trevor smiled and explained, “You will not be able to wipe the glitter away. You see you are transforming. You are becoming the glitter. The more you tickle the glitter on the skin, the more they tickle back. You make the glitter laugh and the glitter makes you laugh. Do you understand? You are becoming the light.”
Tootsie finally understood. She ate the crystals of sugar which was not sugar at all. She realized it was glittering sparkling motes of happiness. She was consuming happiness and the more happiness she took, the more there was to share. The more happiness she shared, the more there was to take for herself.
Tootsie pulled the cord to indicate her stop was approaching and stood from the bus seat. The burden of her flesh was fundamental in causing her breathing to labor just reaching for the strap to hold her weight. The bus swayed and Tootsie struggled to hold her stance. A young man sitting behind her braced his arms to distribute her weight in the event of a fall.
“Whoa! Almost got yourself a date,” Tootsie said and let her mouth curl up into a smile. The bus came to a stop. Tootsie looked at the young man and said, “You're sweet,” and dragged her hand along his cheek before pulling her weight forward to stop at the driver. “You be sweet,” she suggested, “lower the bus?”
The driver did as he was asked. The bus beeped and lowered so that the door met the curb. Tootsie watched as the mechanics did their job and then turned to the bus driver. She handed him a caramel crème candy she had pulled from her purse.
“You're sweet to old ladies and sweet old ladies be sweet to you,” Tootsie said releasing the candy from her hand to his.
She stepped off the bus and waddled from the curb to the automatic doors of the market stopping every few steps for a deep breath. A bird flew in her path. Tootsie fished in her purse and found a brown paper bag with a slice of pound cake to drop on the ground for the bird. It clicked its beak and bobbed its head, transforming the slice into crumbs.
The market had a special price for locally made prepackaged snack cakes. Tootsie claimed one box for herself, opened it and ate the cakes as she shopped with no shame or guilt.
“Should you,” a short man asked her, “be eating that before you buy it?”
“I will pay. I have money.”
“But do they let you, “ he started to ask and looked around before continuing, “eat it before you?”
“You work for the store?”
“No ma'am.”
“Do you want a cake?” Tootsie reached in the box to get another small pastry and hold it out for him to take.
“Well, I,” He stammered.
“Fill your mouth with sweet instead of questions.”
The man did as he was told.
Tootsie leaned on her cart and put her head in her hand.
“Are you alright,” her new friend asked?
“Oh fine. My son does not like sweet food but today is his birthday. I need to make something he will like so he have sweet birthday.”
Tootsie decided on strawberry shortcake. She discovered her new friend to be Trevor Caldor. He helped Tootsie with her groceries and she did not think it strange that he had none of his own. When it was time for her to take the bus home, he offered to drive her in his truck.
Trevor pulled up to Tootsie's home and stopped the engine. It was his intention to put her things into her kitchen. Tootsie carried nothing inside.
“Such sweetness from young man. Sit. I repay you.”
Without hesitation, Trevor took a seat and Tootsie spread berry preserves on a slice of white bread, sprinkled it with sugar and placed it down before him. He picked up the slice of bread and ate it while Tootsie went to work whipping butter and cream. She talked about her children and her grandchildren. He smiled and nodded and sharing stories of his own life in return.
Tootsie and Trevor laughed all afternoon. Finally, when Tootsie was finished baking the cake for her son as well as a chocolate layer cake for Trevor to take home with him, Tootsie sat on a chair scarcely sturdy enough to support her girth. The table shifted as her belly expanded and withdrew with every forced breath.
“You're a sweet boy Trevor,” Tootsie said with a sigh knowing he would be leaving her for whatever he needed to attend in his own life. “I remember sweet.” Tootsie exhaled audibly and closed her eyes. “I forget sour.”
Trevor pushed his chair back from the table and said, “Miss Tootsie, I really must go, but I would like to come back for more sweets.”
She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her mouth curled into a smile revealing her crooked and yellowed teeth that did not quite seem to fit in her mouth. She clarified, “You come back for more sweet?”
Trevor rose, kissed Tootsie on the head and said, “Yes ma'am; I'll come back for more sweets. When?”
“When you want sweet.”
Trevor left but returned as promised to Tootsie's home the very next morning. He brought with him a box of doughnuts for them to eat and a duffel bag that he let rest on the table.
Again, Tootsie sat with Trevor at her kitchen table. She poured a sweet drink for him that was more like a melted popsicle than juice. She made a warm custard that she spooned over a pie crust made from lard, white flower, sugar and salt. She then promised they would eat the treat after a lunch of tomato soup, which she made by adding sugar and honey to garlic, onions, bacon fat and tomatoes.
When Trevor felt he had to close his eyes in gluttonous indulgent satisfaction, he sighed and said , “Miss Tootsie, you know how to sweeten a boy up!”
“I ain't do much work for you. You was sweet from your mama.”
Trevor replied with a laugh and said, “I don't know if that's true, but I think I want to offer you a job.”
“I got no work left in me sweet boy. Didn't have much to begin with,” Tootsie said. She laughed from her throat with a hoarse roar causing a wheeze and snort from her nose.
Trevor pulled a card from his lapel and said, “I think you have just the cachinnatory vigor my people are looking for.”
“I don't know what you said, but I ain't got that.”
Trevor placed his hand on Tootsie's and smiled. He said, “It means I like the way you laugh while you sweeten me up.”
Tootsie smiled, letting her neglected teeth show. “I got plenty a laugh. What else you want for work?”
Trevor placed the card on the table. Tootsie grabbed the card immediately as if it was a sugar coated cookie pulling it close to her face to smell the ink and look closely at the words printed upon it. She spun the card in her stout fingers. One side was purple with orange lettering while the other was blue with yellow. On the one side, the card read, Sacchariferous Shifter; on the other, Sweets Maker.
“These are big words,” Tootsie exhaled.
“My people need someone who knows how to feed others. We don't care if you can cook. We want our guests to eat.” Trevor reached into the duffel bag and pulled a canister that was remarkably like the canisters Tootsie had on her counter. “This is very special sugar.”
Tootsie yanked the jar from his hands and spun the lid counterclockwise without waiting for him to offer it to her. She licked her index finger and plunged it into the jar coating it. She then held it up in the sunbeam streaming in the window.
“Is this sugar,” Tootsie asked as she squinted her eyes to look at the minuscule crystals clinging to her finger, “pink and green and blue and gold?”
“It is.” Trevor stood and took Tootsie's canister reading Sugar from the counter and stuffed it into his duffel bag. “It's clown sugar. And the people I work for are the clowns.”
Tootsie placed her finger in her mouth and closed her eyes in ecstasy.
“Clown sugar is sweet,” Tootsie said pushing her finger deep into the canister to coat her finger over and over again each time licking it in between sugary plunges.
Trevor nodded. He stood and reached in her utensil drawer to get a spoon for Tootsie, seeming to know exactly where she keeps all things. As she spooned the crystals into her mouth, Trevor said, “Sugars and sweets for clowns Tootsie.” He raised his eyebrows but she was not looking at him. She was focused on the canister of sugar. The more she ate, the more she wanted.
“Tootsie, you have a very special gift that you need to share.”
“I tell you I'm not special.”
“But you are,” Trevor said. He took the canister from her hands and turned the lid to seal the crystals inside. “The clowns need to be sweetened Tootsie. We need you to use this sugar for cakes and cookies and candies and whatever you make that feeds people in joy.”
Tootsie smiled. Her eyes darted from Trevor's eyes to the canister in his hands. “I get sugar?”
Trevor nodded and leaned back in the chair keeping hold of the canister. “Oh, yes Tootsie, you get the sugar.
“We need someone to bake and assure the clowns who come to our parties are sweetened.”
Tootsie salivated and was unable to control a dribble of saliva from her lip.
Trevor opened the canister again and continued, “You noticed the sugar has some color that regular sugar does not have. You may have also noticed that this jar of sugar is as full now as when I gave it to you, even though you ate quite a bit of it.”
Tootsie wanted to ask if the canister was magic. She wanted to have the jar back in her hands to inspect the properties of the glass. No. she wanted just to pour more sugar into her mouth and taste the sweetness again. She sat anxiously waiting for Trevor to give her the sugar again.
“You want more Tootsie, don't you?”
“Yes,” Tootsie whispered.
Trevor pushed the canister to Tootsie and without hesitation, she shoved her hand into the mouth of the jar. Pulling a handful of sugar into her mouth she closed her eyes as she ate it again in a delirious trance.
“I have to go to a school tomorrow to meet a troupe of clowns for a performance. Can you make some cupcakes and juice for the students?”
“Yea,” Tootsie looked at Trevor with glazed eyes and dragged out the only syllable her throat allowed to escape indicating she could perform the task.
Trevor told Tootsie he would return the next morning to pick up her and the snacks.
“You must come with me to sweeten the kids.”
“I sweeten kids,” Toosie said and nodded assuring Trevor she would be available for him the next morning.
Δ ΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔ Δ Δ Δ Δ
Trevor and Tootsie walked into the auditorium of a primary school. Tootsie was directed to a table that had been set up covered with striped a striped plastic drape. Trevor sent a clown out to his truck to get the juice and cupcakes Tootsie prepared.
Tootsie leaned on the table waiting for her sweets. Having exerted her energies, she could not hear Trevor giving instructions to clowns over her grunts of shallow breath.
The clown returned with pink boxes. Tootsie waved her hands in the air gesturing to the table. Tootsie set the cupcakes on the table and arranged them by color. She asked Trevor, “Enough sweet?”
Trevor smiled and said, “Yes, perfect. The kids are going to come in and take cupcakes, then sit to watch the clowns on stage. When the performance is over, we need to give them the juice. Make sure everyone gets the sweets.”
Tootsie smiled and put a cupcake in her mouth. She said, “I give sweet,” immodestly showing the frosting coating her tongue and gums.
Trevor wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and said, “Yes, you do.”
Kids filed in and each took a cupcake. Tootsie reached into the boxes that held her sweet treats and replenished the cupcakes as they were taken from the table. The supply was more than enough. In fact, she noticed there did not seem to be an end to the supply just as the sugar did not wane in the canister when given to her by Trevor the day before.
Music played, clowns came on stage and performed for the children. The children applauded and laughed. Trevor handed out flyers for the children to take home with them encouraging them to sign up for a camp with the clowns.
At the end of the performance, clowns ran up and down the aisles popping balloons that had fallen from the ceiling releasing glitter all over the children. The children squealed with every pop both startled and enthralled.
The sunlight that came through the windows even seemed to dim when the performance came to an abrupt halt. The children paused a moment in silence, then erupted in applause and a standing ovation for the clowns as they gathered once again on the stage.
The teachers quieted their classes and led them out from the rows of chairs, past Tootsie's table so that she could put a cup of sugary fruit flavored drink into their hands. She did her work quietly but with a smile that grew each time a child took a cup.
Trevor came to Tootsie and said, “Put cupcakes out for the clowns now.” His demeanor changed slightly. He commanded Tootsie. He almost demanded it of her. Tootsie complied nodding. She reached under the table for the box again and opened the lid. It was full again of multi-colored cupcakes sprinkled with the rainbow crystals. Tootsie knew she had worked tirelessly on the cakes, but she was still perplexed at the unending volume
“Tootsie,” Trevor exclaimed! “How did you ever get all these cakes made,” he asked facetiously?
Tootsie pulled Trevor closer to her and said quietly, “Sugar gave me these.” Tootsie contorted her body and from her sides, two extra arms grew. Even her clothing altered to accommodate the added appendages.
Trevor laughed! He knew how Tootsie achieved the volume. He knew that anything made with the sugar will multiply as much as needed. He took her aside and said, “We don't have to clean up. You've done enough work. Let me take you home.”
“There is cake left. May I take some home?” Tootsie turned back to the table she had manned.
“Yes Tootsie, you may have some cake.” Trevor picked up a handful of cupcakes and gave them to her. She held the cakes in two hands while pushing them into her mouth with her other two. Just as they multiplied in the boxes, the cupcakes multiplied in her hands keeping her mouth full of cake the entire ride home as Trevor spoke.
“Laughter Tootsie, makes light. And sweet people have the loudest laughter, so they have the brightest light. Clowns need light. Do you understand?”
Tootsie nodded while grunting in the cloying voracity.
“There are other ways of course to come into light; but, the fastest is in the laughter.” Trevor paused to give Tootsie and opportunity to ask any questions she had. She was hardly quiet, but she had no questions. “The best way,” he reiterated, “to come into light is to laugh.
“Now Tootsie, clowns need light. They are the light. They eat the light and the light eats them. Do you understand?”
Tootsie did not understand. She did not care. She just wanted to continue consuming the sugar. She could not comprehend how light could ever consume her.
“Do you feel how happy you are now Tootsie? Did you see how happy those children were today?”
Tootsie stopped eating and looked at Trevor. His eyes were gold and he seemed to shine with an illumination that made her understand the things he was saying. Tootsie nodded to indicate he should continue.
“Everyone in the world wants to become ethereal. People have been looking to the sun since antiquity to show them the way to a greater purpose. We provide the route to that purpose.”
Tootsie stopped Trevor from talking. She cocked her head and asked, “How big is we?”
“Tootsie, there is a network of clowns controlling legalized oddities with nonsense and shenanigans. We control who is providing enjoyment so that we can assure it is boisterous merriment in the world. With every laughter, there is a transformation into light.”
Tootsie looked at the skin on her hands and noticed it shone like Trevor's. She smiled and noticed the glow increased. She saw something physical catch the light and reflect it on her fingertip. Tootsie wrung her hands together. The more she rubbed, the more shiny her hands became and she found herself laughing aloud at the nonsense occurring right before her eyes.
Trevor smiled and explained, “You will not be able to wipe the glitter away. You see you are transforming. You are becoming the glitter. The more you tickle the glitter on the skin, the more they tickle back. You make the glitter laugh and the glitter makes you laugh. Do you understand? You are becoming the light.”
Tootsie finally understood. She ate the crystals of sugar which was not sugar at all. She realized it was glittering sparkling motes of happiness. She was consuming happiness and the more happiness she took, the more there was to share. The more happiness she shared, the more there was to take for herself.