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There was no candy.

It seemed silly, even at five and three quarters he knew it would be a possibility that there would be no candy in the red candy jar. It just seemed so unlikely. Months of scheming had passed since his mother had brought home the brightly wrapped set of colorful jars.

“Let’s put candy in the red one!” his older brother had happily demanded.

Temper tantrums, begging, crocodile tears, and sweet smiles had all been denied. Then miraculously it happened. A guard was dropped, a distraction just long enough in the laundry room, a chair left where it should not have been.

Little Trevor McHill took the serendipitous offering with the glee born of deprivation. Lego’s were dropped. The chair was climbed, the red jar high above on the cabinet next to the stove was grasped. The lid stuck and for a moment he thought he might not be able to open it, but one more hazardous grapple with small, dirty fingers popped it open.


What was the point? What had all ploys been for? Why had this diamond chance he had just taken yielded no results?

His mother came into the kitchen and found him still standing on the counter top with an empty green jar in one hand and the bright green lid in the other. Her exclamations on listening and safety fell on deaf ears. It was just a buzzing noise in the background. When the buzz stopped he numbly returned to his room and sat among his toys without playing with them.

Thus resulted the first of many mishaps for a young child who did not yet understand the term color-blindness.


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