"Honey Bun Bandits"

by Dot Smith

The family moved in a predominantly black neighborhood; well actually, the residents were all black. Whites frequenting the area were vendors operating convenience stores during the day. At night, these white vendors scurried back to their lily-white neighborhoods. Other whites seen in and around the neighborhood were salespersons beating the streets by day selling useless insurance policies, vacuum cleaners, farm produce, brushes and anything else white entrepreneurs thought black people would part from their hard earned money to possess. An old neighborhood, its buildings were primarily decaying wood framed structures. Most of the weathered houses desperately needed a coat of paint, a painting the slumlord owners were not about to provide. Ada family's new home was not an exception to the general decay and poverty of the neighborhood.

Relieved to finally have a "permanent" place to live, Ada's family happily settled into the large frame house on the corner of Kansas Street and Olive Avenue. The four-bedroom house came with one large bathroom with a huge porcelain claw-footed tub, a large eat-in country kitchen with lots of cabinet space, and a living room with a large picture window across the front. Accustomed to crowded living spaces, the family considered this new home a real luxury, especially since it sported a bathroom. The family's previous dwelling lacked indoor plumbing, beyond the kitchen pump used to draw cold water from the well. In addition to the spacious living area, the family could store winter clothing and any other items not currently needed in the house's large attic.

A rusty wire fence, ostensibly erected to prevent passers by from coming onto the property, bordered the Olive Avenue side of the house was. From the looks of the sag in the middle of the fence, it may act as a barrier to automobile traffic, at least on one occasion. The fence extended around the backyard where there a gate led to an alley and ended midway along the opposite side of the house. A little used narrow passageway separated the family's dwelling from the next door neighbor's house. The alley, running along the back of the house beyond the fence, apparently provide area residents with a place to keep garbage cans between garbage pickup days and somewhere to discard any unwanted items. As soon as Ada surveyed the jumbled area, the alley became forbidden territory.

The children's play area was restricted to the front yard, the enclosed back yard, and the space along Olive Avenue between the house and the rusty wire fence. Compared to the open space of the farm, the new play area was extremely small. Comprised of a motley crew of nine, the children ranged in age from twelve years to a few short months. David, the baby and third child born to Callie, Ada's eldest unmarried daughter, was because of his tender age not allowed to play in the yard with the other children. So, the group restricted to the immediate area around the house was eight in number, five boys and three girls. The Honey Bun Bandits, as part of the group later became known, was a gang of very determined and resourceful kids.

Booker, the eldest of the group, was a strong husky and very industrious little boy of twelve accustomed to the hard work of farm life. The other children, though younger, were also accustomed to working. Very seldom were the children allowed to play an entire day away without having to perform some chore, whether it was feeding the chickens, collecting eggs, slopping hogs, or pulling weeds from the kitchen garden, there was always something to keep their little hands and minds occupied on the farm. Living in the city meant that those farm chores no longer had to be performed.

Beyond the household chores that were efficiently taken care of by Ada and her eldest daughter, Callie, there was little real work to be done. Occasionally, there was an errand to run to the store, but for the most part all the children had to do was stay out of the way, while Ada and Callie cleaned house and/or performed the other household chores. For the first time, the children had unlimited leisure time on their hands, so many idle little hands. School was out for the summer; so, the children old enough to attend school did not have lessons to occupy their minds. So many idle curious little minds.

Initially, the children were too awed by their new surroundings to stray very far from the restricted area around their new home. In time, however, as they became comfortable with their new setting, the children were allowed to go to the school grounds across Kansas Street to play. There were swings, a large metal slide, a sandbox, a jungle gym, a baseball diamond, and lots of space to run in on the school grounds. In addition to all the playground equipment and space, there were always lots of other children to play with. Despite the relative safety of the playground, Ada was leery of allowing the little ones to go there often, especially after a fight erupted involving Booker, Curtis and some other teenage boys. Because strangers were on the playground and her little ones sometimes got too far away for her to clearly see them from the front porch of her house, Ada was reluctant to allow the children go there on a regular basis. The younger children were never allowed to go to the playground alone; they were always accompanied by Booker, who was charged with the responsibility of watching out for them. The trips to the playground ended shortly after they starting, because Booker soon became unavailable to accompany them there.

Booker, a resourceful little boy, quickly acquired a job at Clayton's Sundry carrying out empty boxes and trash, sweeping the store and, in general, keeping the area around the store free of trash. The sundry, located directly across the street was basically a small grocery store specializing in sundry items that appealed to young people. Children headed to school stopped in to spend their lunch money and children stopped in after school to spend whatever pennies they had leftover from lunch. The store was more a convenience store than a full-fledged supermarket. Like most of the other buildings in the neighborhood, it was a dilapidated wood framed structure desperately in need of a coat of paint; like the other buildings in the vicinity, Clayton's Sundry had definitely seen better days.

The proprietor had owned and been operating the store for several decades. He had witnessed the neighborhood's transition from an all-white middle class neighborhood to an all black slum. He was a white, stingy and embittered old man named Clayton, Mr. Clayton to the people in the Kansas street neighborhood who frequented his establishment; at least, that is what they called him to his face. Behind his back, Clayton was called every filthy and obscene name imaginable, names most of the people who knew him felt were well deserved. He had absolutely no patience with the customers he was supposed to serve. He often talked disrespectfully to both the children and adults who patronized his store. In fact, he was so course and discourteous in his treatment of his customers that Ada, after going there a few times and witnessing his rude behavior, decided he did not deserve her business and instead patronized his nearest competitor, a supermarket, located a couple of blocks away. It meant longer walks to the grocery store, but Ada refused to be disrespected when she was spending their hard-earned money.

To her family, she was very vocal in expressing her disapproval of Clayton and his callous treatment of black people. She was especially puzzled by their continued support of his business when there was a perfectly good competitor nearby. In fact, prices were generally lower at his competitor's store. Besides being conveniently located, there was nothing to recommend continuing to trade at Clayton's. Being new to the neighborhood, Ada was not aware of the special relationship that existed between Clayton and his regular customers, the very people he often treated discourteously. What Ada did not know was that in addition to the over the counter cash business conducted at Clayton's, the owner provided credit to certain customers, generally the people who had lived in the neighborhood a long time. For families living from paycheck to paycheck, the convenience of credit was a real luxury, a luxury they were unwilling to jeopardize by confronting Clayton and openly criticizing his behavior whenever he was rude, crude and obnoxious. In addition, Clayton had money to loan, and had come to the financial rescue of a number of the residents by making them money loans when no one else would. Unaware of the true nature of the relationship between Clayton and the neighborhood, Ada felt the residents simply had no backbone and were afraid to face up to the man because he was white.

Given the circumstances, when Booker first approached her about his newly acquired position, Ada was reluctant to allow the little boy to work for Clayton. She was more concerned about the child's feelings being trampled on than any work he may have had to perform to earn the meager amount Clayton had agreed to pay him. Ada knew Booker's work would not be a problem; he was a good steady little worker. Clayton's treatment of the child was another matter, altogether; Ada did not trust the man where her child's tender feelings and manhood were concerned. The little boy, however, felt that he could handle anything Clayton dished out and then some, he had bravely assured his mother. Besides, Mr. Clayton had thus far been fairly considerate, if not outright kind to him, according to Booker. Taking this assertion with a grain of salt, Ada allowed Booker's argument to sway her; she relented reluctantly and gave her permission for Booker to work at the store. Working at the store did provide the little boy with spending money that he would not otherwise have.

Booker's job proved to be a boom, not only because of the spending money it provided the youngster, but the fringe benefit it provided the other children. In addition to his wages, Clayton routinely gave Booker the old pastries and breads. The goods were fine for consumption; they were just old in the sense that they had to be removed from the grocery shelf. Unknown to Booker or Ada at the time, these products would normally have been trashed, since they were too old to sell. But, Clayton being the wretch that he was, used the perishable goods to augment the meager salary he paid Booker. Unaware of the ulterior motive behind the gifts, Booker generously shared what he was given with the rest of his family. Being from the country, the children knew nothing about store bought sweets like cupcakes and honey buns; the family's budget did not allow splurging on such foodstuffs. All the sweets the children were accustomed to consuming were homemade cakes, cookies and pies made by their mother or older sister. So, the children got their first taste of store bought sweets thanks to the Clayton Sundry castoffs given to Booker as partial payment for services rendered. Everyday, but especially on Wednesdays, over the next several weeks, the children anxiously looked forward to the goodies Booker brought home.

When school started in early September of that year, Booker's job was naturally restricted to a few hours after school and on the weekends. The volume of treats he received diminished proportionately and stopped altogether when an argument between Ada and Mr. Clayton erupted, causing Booker to lose his job. Clayton wanted the same level of service from Booker that he had received in the past. To get this, he expected the little boy to work nonstop during the limited hours he was allowed to work after school and on weekends. When Booker's school work started to suffer, Ada decided to have a talk with Clayton about restricting the boy's work days to weekends only. Clayton, being the inconsiderate narrow-minded bigot that he was, refused to continue the boy's employment on such a limited basis. The treats came to a screeching halt; there were no more cupcakes and honey buns.

Of the eight children who had been religiously consuming those treats, only three, Booker, Curtis and Erma, were school aged. The remaining five, ranging in age from five, nearly six, to three, were too young for school, but they sorely missed those cupcakes and honey buns. Early fall turned to Indian Summer, when the children spent the early afternoons playing along the side of the house wondering what that stingy old Mr. Clayton was doing with all those cupcakes and honey buns now that Booker was no longer bringing them home. As luck would have it, they found out on a breezy Wednesday afternoon.

It was wash day and Ada had a lot of work to do. Callie had recently acquired a job working in the cafeteria at the University of Tennessee. So, the bulk of the daily housework now fell on Ada's shoulders, in addition to caring for the baby and keeping tabs on the other little ones too young for school. It was a big job; the children were constantly underfoot. On this particular day, she bundled them up in sweaters and light jackets and shooed them outside to play on the sunny side of the house. The three little boys were soon busy playing cowboys and Indians with their cap guns and broomstick horses, and the two little girls were playing with their dolls; the baby had been put down for his afternoon nap. Ada was finally free to complete her chores without interruption. She was completely immersed in the weekly laundry when the white delivery truck drove up beside Clayton's Sundry. She was totally unaware of the little drama that was about to unfold.

Painted on the sides of the truck were pictures of what had become their favorite store bought treats; treats they no longer received but sorely missed. Like a magnet, the pastry painted vehicle immediately caught and held the children's undivided attention. With mouths slightly ajar, five pairs of eyes remained trained on that truck. Glued in place, the group focused on that truck with single-minded concentration noting that the driver entered the store through the side delivery door. To their utter amazement, he was carrying several trays heaping with their favorite pastries; more goodies than they had ever seen in their entire lives at one time. One entire tray contained rows and rows of nothing but sweet delicious honey buns, their favorite junk food treat. Their stomachs growled in unison as they imagined savoring those delectable buns. Moments after making his delivery, the driver came out of the store armed with a clipboard that he had been writing on, got into his truck, and drove away, completely ignorant of the little group of onlookers.

Their games obviously forgotten, the children continued to sit along the fence staring blindly at the delivery entrance to Clayton's. As they sat with mouths watering quietly watching the store, old man Clayton came out the delivery entrance carrying a tray similar to the delivery man's filled with a variety of pastries. Sitting alongside the store and slightly to the back, Clayton had two large drum barrels that were used as trash bins. Before their very eyes Clayton proceeded to the nearest drum barrel and dumped the entire tray of goodies inside. With disbelief, the children's eyes grew large as they stared from Clayton to the trash bin. Never seeing the gaping little ones, Clayton strolled back through the delivery entrance.

Unknown to Clayton, for the next half-hour, the little children sat staring at the trash bin dreaming about those delicious cupcakes and honey buns that he had callously tossed in the garbage. For months, Clayton had given those cakes to Booker making them theirs to savor, and now, because Clayton was a mean, stingy and cruel old man, those wonderful buns were being relegated to the trash heap. Sadly, the little ones collectively sighed. In their hearts they knew this was not right; this was simply not fair. Someone should do something. The question was whom could they call on to help rectify this dreadful situation.

The children were strictly forbidden to leave the yard and were under no circumstances allowed to cross the street unless accompanied by one of the older children or an adult. Until this balmy Wednesday afternoon, obeying this rule had not posed a serious problem. Now, however, the children knew precisely where the honey buns were; they were across the street in Clayton's trash bin. The only way to get there was to disobey Ada's rule against crossing the street. Instinctively, the little ones knew that Ada would not allow them to get the treats from the trash, so asking her for permission to cross the street to do so was out of the question. Getting across the street was not the only problem facing the group. Wednesday was garbage pick-up day, and the garbage truck normally ran in the early afternoon. Therein posed the big dilemma, how to retrieve those honey buns before the weekly trash collector and without Ada's knowledge.

With only minutes to retrieve those cakes before they fell into the hands of the garbage man, the group turned to Dot, the oldest. She knew how to safely cross the street, since she now ran all the grocery store errands for her mother.

"You go Dot! You know how," said her younger twin brothers, Rob and Ray, practically in unison as they physically urged their sister to the back gate.

"No!" the little girl cried, standing stiff and unresponsive with arms crossed over her undeveloped chest refusing to be bulged by the boys. "Momma will whip me," she stated with authority, since she was not afraid of the dark. It was well known among the group, despite their tender ages, that Momma would give them a good switching if they disobeyed any of her rules. If not a switching, then the punishment was generally a few hours spent in the hall closet, a most unpleasant experience for a little one afraid of the dark, especially if he or she believed in the bogeyman.

Dot at five nearly six was the oldest one in the group, all of five months older than Ada, her niece, Callie's eldest child named after her grandmother. The twins whose birthday was in November were three almost four. The youngest in the group was Larry, Callie's son, who was also three. While the children were young, little more than toddlers, their very distinctive personalities were very much in evidence.

Dot was bold, willing to take a risk for the right inducement, spoiled and attractive; she had a lot of common sense. Obeying momma's rules, those spoken and un-spoken, made good common sense to her. In fact, Dot rarely got a spanking because she knew what behavior her parents would and would not tolerate. She was generally considered daddy's little girl as she was clearly her father's favorite. At nearly six, Dot should have been enrolled in school, however, because she would not turn six until December, the Memphis Public School System would not allow her to enter school until the following school year. Despite the late entrance in school, Dot could read and write, which were perks for having an older sister willing to answer questions and teach a younger sister. Erma, Dot's older sister by eighteen months, loved to read and willingly shared that favorite pastime with her younger sister.

The twins, fraternal ones, were generally willing to go along with whatever Dot decided; she was unofficially the leader of the group of five. But, when it came to the twins, normally Rob was the leader of the set and Ray the ever-faithful follower. Ray allowed Rob to make all their decisions and do all the work, if any was required, to carry out those decisions; Ray was extremely lazy and far too laid back, a character flaw that would color his entire life. Rob was smart, adventurous and a little reckless, a character trait that would land him in a world of trouble as an adult. As the older twin, he was more than willing to shoulder the responsibility for the pair, make the decisions that affected them and do any work necessary. While very different in personalities, the twins were inseparable.

While she was willing to follow to a certain extent, Ada was independent and smart, but she was also very cautious. She was not taking any chances on getting into trouble, but was more than willing to enjoy any fruits derived from a chancy undertaking. An attractive dark skinned girl with wavy black hair, Ada was selfish and a little jealous of her aunt, Dot. To Ada, Dot received more attention than she warranted both from her own mother, Callie, and her grandmother, Ada. This jealousy colored her treatment of her aunt and put them at odds in their relationship as children and later as adults. There was always a degree of animosity in Ada's behavior toward her youthful aunt.

Larry, better known as Dodo, a unique little character, loved money and the things it could buy; any chance to acquire it was well worth the effort. He was willing to work for it, but was not above stealing to get it. He knew nothing about caution and was not afraid of a spanking. In his brief lifetime, he had a few from both his mother and his grandmother. He always had a few pennies in his pockets, and loved to boast about what he had. Larry's love affair with money and material possessions would dictate his actions as a youth and an adult, and would ultimately cause distress in his adult life.

"Me ain't 'fraid," Larry declared, barely able to enunciate the words. "Me git 'em fast," he assured the group. Known for his speed and agility, Larry was certain he could get across the street and back lickety-split. No one would be the wiser or so he thought.

Before anyone could stop him, Larry dashed out the gate and across the street never pausing to determine if it was safe to do so. Thank goodness there was no traffic to hinder his mad dash for the honey buns. While the trip across the street was accomplished without a mishap, getting the honey buns out of the garbage can was an entirely different matter. Larry was too small to do it without help; he could not even see into the bin, let alone reach inside and retrieve the goodies. Reluctant to give up without an all out effort, the little boy tried several times to climb up the barrel to no avail; it was too slick to grip.

Afraid of being caught, Dot called, "Dodo! Come back here!" The little boy ignored her command and tried again to climb up the barrel. This final try, like the previous ones, ended in failure as the little boy fell to the ground. However, this time the impact of the fall split his pants. Concerned now about his torn trousers and frustrated he was unable to get those buns, Larry shot up off the ground, examined the seat of his pants and burst out crying.

"Dodo," Dot called as loud as she could without alerting her mother. "Get over her now!" she practically screamed.

The little boy, recognizing the urgency in his youthful aunt's voice, stopped crying and made the mad dash back across the street. Again, he failed to take the necessary precautions when crossing the street. Fortunately, there was still no traffic along the side street at this time of day. With Larry safely back in the yard, the group was now faced with a new problem. Larry's torn pants were a problem; Momma would want an explanation, and the kids need an excuse that would keep Momma from finding out that they had been trying to get those honey buns from Clayton's trash. What to tell Momma? None of the children were above lying to get out of trouble and avoid a switching.

After much discussion, it was decided that Larry could just say he fell, which he did, and the pants just ripped. It was the truth, they didn't have to say that he fell while trying to get the buns. After all, Momma always said that the truth is the light and the truth would set you free; you can't get in trouble telling the truth.

With this problem settled to their youthful satisfaction, the group gazed again at the trash can, imagining the sweet treats still out of reach. As they gazed raptly across the street at the bin, the garbage truck drove up. The garbage man jumped from the runner along the side of the truck, picked up the bin and dumped the contents into the back of the truck. Collectively, the children groaned as the truck started smashing the trash; those buns were forever lost to them. In unison, the group turned away from the painful sight.

While the experience was painful, the children had gained some valuable information for the future. For example, they now knew that old man Clayton disposed of the old cupcakes and honey buns on Wednesdays, the same day as the deliveryman brought fresh ones. Unfortunately, this was a garbage pick-up day as well. In fact, there was very little time between the disposal of the treats and the garbage pick-up. Any plan to retrieve the honey buns before the garbage man had to be well coordinated.

For the remainder of the afternoon, the children were consumed with planning what they would do the following week. By the time school let out for the day and the brothers and sister had come home, they still had not come up with a definite plan of action. In whispers after dinner the five little ones told the older children what had happened. The children unanimously agreed that old man Clayton was a terrible person for denying them the cakes; particularly since he could not sell them to anyone else and was throwing them in the trash anyway. It was further agreed that something had to be done to thaw old man Clayton. The children had a week in which to devise a course of action. Everyone told by the older kids, Booker, Curtis and Erma, not to say anything around Callie, Fred or Ada about Clayton discarding the treats as garbage. They were also urged to think of someway to get those cakes and not get caught in the process.

The children continued their normal routine over the next two days. To the casual outside observer everything appeared the same; the children played in their yard the usual games of hide-go-seek, cowboys and Indians, etc. However, under closer scrutiny a definite break in the normal routine could be discerned. For example, the children spent an inordinate amount of time looking at the delivery entrance of Clayton's Sundry and the trash bins where Clayton dumped garbage from his store. The children seemed to take turns keeping an eye on the place; it was as though they were casing the joint, as indeed they were.

By Saturday morning a tentative plan had been devised. Since neither Ada nor Dot was willing to be the one to cross the street to retrieve the treats, and the twins were not much taller than Larry, it was decided that Larry would be the one to do it. Besides he was least likely to be punished because he was the youngest. But, Larry needed something to stand on that would elevate him to the height of the garbage barrel. Since the garbage cans used by Clayton were approximately the same size as those the family used, the kids used their garbage cans as a standard for measuring how high the stand for Larry needed to be. During their afternoon playtime, the children gathered the necessary tools for making a small stool.

Discarded pieces of lumber were gathered from the forbidden alley behind the house by Booker and Curtis. A hammer and nails were borrowed from Fred's toolbox. The boys worked diligently all afternoon constructing a step stool. The finished product was crude to say the least. Since they had no saw, the pieces of wood that made up the base of the stool were uneven. Fortunately, the three legs for the stool were taken from a discarded sofa found in the alley. Despite its crude appearance, the stool was sturdy enough to hold Larry's slight weight.

The stool was taken to their garbage bin and placed beside it. Larry proudly jumped on the stool and peered over into the bin. A cheer when up; they had done it! All that remained was the wait until Wednesday to put the plan in motion. To make the task easier for Larry, Booker placed the stool behind the store. All Larry had to do was dash across the street, get the stool from behind the store, place it next to the garbage can, stock up on all the treats sure to be at his finger tips, and hurry back across the street with the goodies. It was a good plan complete with the twins acting as lookouts to make sure Ada did not see what was going on, and Dot was assigned the task of helping Larry cross the street safely. All Dot really had to do was look both ways, up and down the street, and tell Larry when it was safe to cross it. With the plan thoroughly thought out, Wednesday seemed an extremely long way away, since there was nothing to do but wait. The children anxiously awaited its arrival.

On Sunday, everyone attended Sunday church service at one of the neighborhood Baptist churches. Ada and Fred had not decided which of the several churches the family would join, so they had been rotating their attendance and going to a different church every Sunday. On this particular Sunday, the family was once again at Rock of Ages for the third time. Rock of Ages was a nice big red brick church with a large congregation of well-dressed parishioners. If mode of dress was a criterion for membership, the family clearly did not belong. Dressed in their Sunday best, the group still looked shabby compared to the other churchgoers. For Ada entering the house of the lord required little beyond spiritual readiness to hear and receive the word of God, dress was unimportant beyond one's garments and body being clean; cleanliness was next to Godliness.

The children had never especially relished going to church; they would have been quite content to remain at home and play the day away. But, Ada made everyone in the house attend Sunday service, a habit ingrained from childhood having been reared in the home of a travelling minister. The family occupied an entire pew with the children sitting between adults on either end. No fidgeting or talking was allowed; the little ones often fell asleep during the reverend's sermon. For some strange reason, the children seemed very attentive on this particular Sunday. From the expressions on their little faces, one would swear the preacher was speaking directly to each of them. The sermon for the day centered on lying by omission and lying for gain; there was, according to the preacher, no such thing as a little white lie when bearing false witness. A lie was a lie, and liars were sinners bound straight for hell if they did not repent and cease their wicked ways. It was a subdued group that filed out of church that day with Ada.

When the children were finally allowed to go outside to play following Sunday supper, there was much discussion in the group about the wisdom of their plan to retrieve the honey buns. Some members of the group, given the sermon they had just heard, were willing to forego the treats. They were certain that the plan was doomed to failure; something was bound go wrong. Despite the objections of a few, the group decided to go forward with the plan to retrieve the honey buns.

Wednesday dawned gray and somewhat misty as a low-lying fog shrouded everything. Fall had finally arrived and there was a chill in the air. The children were afraid the change in weather would ruin their carefully constructed plans. However, as early morning gave way to afternoon, the sun burned off the fog and warmed the air. By mid-afternoon, Ada was encouraging the restless little children to bundle up and go outside for some fresh air. The children gleefully agreed and hurried in their light jackets and sweaters.

Just as they emerged from the house, the bakery delivery truck was pulling away from the curb. The little group pretended to play hide and seek while keeping close tabs on any movement in and out of the side entrance to Clayton's. Sure enough as they watched, old man Clayton came out carrying a tray of honey buns and cupcakes and dumped them into the waste bin. The plan could now be put in motion. The twins went to verify Ada's location, and reported back that she was in the kitchen busy preparing dinner. One of the little boys stood close to the back door while the other remained posted at the front door listening for movement inside the house. Dot watched for traffic and directed Larry across the street; Ada stood next to Dot nervously biting her already short fingernails.

"Okay Dodo go!" said Dot when the street was clear of traffic in both directions.

Not wasting a second, the little boy dashed across the street. Only a few seconds were required to drag the stool to the side of the garbage barrel. Larry did so and reached inside. Unfortunately, while the treats he sought were there, they were the only trash in the bin, so they were at the very bottom, too far for his short arms to reach. The little boy stretched to the very tips of his toes straining to reach the cakes. He grunted and strained; they were so close. Throwing caution to the wind, Larry hoisted himself on the trash barrel. With his stomach resting on the rim of the container, he was just able to reach the treats. Grabbing a couple of the honey buns, he tossed them over his head to the sidewalk. Within minutes using this method, Larry had removed almost all the treats except those on the very bottom. Determined to get them all, the little boy strained harder reaching for the cupcakes and honey buns. He grasped the last two and lost his balance in the process toppling into the trashcan.

The sidewalk was littered with treats and Larry was inside the trashcan when the children heard the garbage truck turn the corner down the street. Frantic, Dot waited anxiously for Larry to emerge from the can. He must have landed on his head and was momentarily dazed, because it took a couple of minutes before he could be heard struggling to climb out of the garbage can. When his best efforts to jump on the rim proved unsuccessful, Larry screamed for the one person he felt would come to his rescue.

"Dot!" the little boy called. The sound from inside the can was hollow, but surely loud enough for all to hear. Plagued with indecision, Dot was silently urged by Rob, who could see all the action from the back steps, to go, and by Ada pushing her to go across the street and help Larry. Making up her mind, Dot dashed across the street. Standing on the stool, she help hoist Larry onto the trash can's rim. Dot tugged and Larry pushed and scrambled to get out. Losing her grip on the little boy's arms, Dot fell backwards and Larry fell into the trashcan tilting it over onto its side. The can started to roll down the sidewalk with Larry still inside. Dot was knocked completely off the stool falling squarely on the cupcakes and honey buns Larry had painstakingly removed from the can moments before.

Honey buns and cupcakes, momentarily forgotten, Dot scrambled to her feet and pursued the rolling trashcan. Larry rolled around inside yelling for help between childish giggles. Fortunately for the children, a garbage man stopped the runaway trashcan at the corner. Placing one foot on the side of the can, the man peered into the barrel.

"Whoa, there partner. What is this? It must be a runaway garbage can!" The large black man laughingly exclaimed upon seeing the little boy inside.

"Oh thank you mister," Dot said grasping for breath as she reached the corner and the runaway can. Larry easily scrambled from the can with a wide grin on his face.

"That wuz fun!" the mischievous little boy said.

"I'll jus' bet it was young fellah," the garbage man said. "But whose can is this and where does it belong?" the man inquired looking at Dot, the older of the two children.

"It goes up there beside the store, mister. Could you please put it back for us?" she sweetly inquired.

"Well, I reckon that wouldn't be so hard seeing as how I'm going that way," the man amicably agreed.

With that settled, Dot grabbed Larry's hand and turned to run back the way they had come. "Thank you mister, thank you so much," Dot said as she pulled Larry away.

Dot and Larry ran to retrieve the cupcakes and honey buns, the objects of this afternoon's mission. Most of the cakes were smashed by Dot's fall on them, however, the children gathered them up and dashed back across the street. Forgetting to determine Ada's whereabouts, Rob and Ray immediately joined the small group examining their booty.

"Look," Ada said, "They're all mushed up," she said grimacing in distaste at the smashed treats.

"So, what difference does it make?" Dot wanted to know. "When you chew them up they'll be more smashed than this." she declared sensibly. "If you don't want any don't eat any," she told the disapproving little girl. Ada, however, was not about to completely refuse the treat. If the others were going to eat and enjoy the treats, she definitely wanted her share.

"I didn't mean I didn't want any," Ada declared unnecessarily.

In all there were about ten packages of the treats, five honey buns and five cream filled cupcakes which came two to a package. That meant that, were they not to share the treats with the kids at school, the children could have two treats each. Of course, it would not be fair not to share. Dot suggested that they wait to eat the cakes after the others came home from school. Larry, however, did not like this idea, nor did the others particularly relish the idea of having to wait for the others to come home. Giving in to the pressure exerted by the others, Dot decided that they could each have a smashed cake and save the rest for the others. In agreement, each child chose a honey bun, since they were crushed the worst, leaving only the cupcakes for the children at school.

The little group sat beneath the tree on the side of the house near the rusty wire fence and ate their smashed honey buns. They were still sitting there licking their sticky fingers when the garbage truck rolled to a stop to empty Clayton's trashcans. The man who had stopped the rolling barrel waved at the little group and they waved back. The children burst out laughing rolling on the sparse grass beneath the tree; the plan had worked. Their mission had been successful despite the little mishap with the runaway trash barrel; they had out smarted old man Clayton. Best of all and fortunately for the children, none of the commotion had roused Ada's suspicion or ire. Since Ada had not come outside to see what was going on, the little honey bun bandits assumed they were home free. The treats were theirs to enjoy with no explanation needed and no punishment for disobeying Ada's rule. Now, all they had to do was to find a good hiding place for the remainder of the cakes for the school kids. The big problem was how to get the cakes into the house without Ada knowing about them.

For all practical purposes, the little honey bun bandits thought they had successfully pulled off a major coup. They were even able to slip pass Ada with the cakes and hide them beneath the bed. For the remainder of the afternoon, the children were in extremely high spirits; they could be heard cheerfully playing and laughing as they engaged in their usual games of make believe. For the next several weeks, the children successfully raided Clayton's trashcan every Wednesday and enjoyed the fruits of their success. There were drawbacks to the continued success of the operation; one was the weather and the eventual end of the Indian summer. How to convince Momma that it was okay for them to go outside in the cold was a problem that needed to be resolved, if the operation was to continue indefinitely. Luckily, the fall continued to be relatively mild, so nothing had to be done immediately. However, there was the problem of restraining individual members of the gang and keeping all parties in the crime being committed satisfied and quiet.

Frequent arguments erupted among the children about share size; who should get what out of every haul. Luckily for them, these arguments were resolved among themselves without involving family members outside the honey bun gang. After all it was reasoned among the group that the children who went to school had no idea how large the haul was, and therefore had to accept whatever share they received. And, no adults discovered what was happening.

Restraint of another type became a factor on one occasion. In retrospect, this mission was probably the downfall of the gang. It had taken longer than usual for Momma to decide that it was time to go outside to play. The children were antsy; the deliveryman had already come and gone and in a very few minutes old man Clayton would be dumping the buns into the trash for the garbage man. Their restlessness somehow transmitted itself to Ada, and the children were bundled up to go outside. Past trash raiding missions had been successful because everyone knew their jobs and did them accordingly. However on this afternoon, the timing was off. Before the twins could be sure momma was occupied and Dot had checked the traffic before giving Larry the signal to cross the street, the reckless youth dashed across the street headed straight for his footstool, the trash can and the goodies inside without a care for his safety.

The car could not have been going very fast. With brakes squealing, the driver made every effort to avoid hitting the child to no avail. Larry was knocked backwards onto the sidewalk where he lay in a daze. Momma rushed from the house at the sound of the commotion and reached the little boy at about the same time as the stunned driver. From the horrified expressions on the face of the driver and the children standing along the fence, Ada was sure her grandbaby was dead. She knelt beside the little body and gently cradled the boy in her arms.

Only momentarily stunned, Larry became conscious with a vengeance and with one thought in mind, getting to those honey buns before the trash man took them away. Having gathered what she thought was a broken little body tenderly in her arms, Ada found herself being rudely shoved away by the strong yet fragile looking arms of her grandson as Larry made every effort to remove himself from the constraints preventing him from completing his mission. Only at the sound of her voice did he realize the true nature of those constraints; he was wrapped securely in the confines of his grandmother's arms.

"Be still boy," Momma chided as Larry continued to struggle to get up. "You might be hurt," she said.

Finally recognizing that voice as belonging to the most important authority figure in his world, Larry allowed his body to go slack in his grandmother's arms. And to the amazement of every onlooker, the little boy burst into tears, sobbing his poor heart out as his grandmother felt for broken bones and bruises. Amazingly enough, there was not a lump, scrape or scratch on Larry's little body. And, despite his tearful outburst, he had not flinched when Ada examined him. Ada figured the tears were more the result of fright and embarrassment than any real injuries inflicted.

After satisfying herself that her grandson was not seriously injured, Ada spoke briefly to the driver. The man returned to his automobile and took off down the street without looking back. Though she was convinced that the boy was not hurt, she became more concerned than before as the child renewed his unusual bout of tears just as the weekly trash collectors drove up to the store across the street. She hurried to get the child inside calling to the others as she went. She wanted everybody inside the house; she needed to get to the bottom of this little incident. Larry's behavior was entirely too suspicious and besides, she wanted to know exactly what he was doing in the middle of the street.

Ada entered the house through the rear door where the kitchen was located. She sat Larry in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and reached for a clean dishcloth. She ran some warm water over the towel to moisten it with the intention of wiping Larry's face. As she turned from the sink, the other children slowly piled into the house one at a time. Ada kneeled in front of Larry's chair and wiped his face, removing some smudges and tears. The tears had stopped almost as quickly as they had begun; only the occasional sniffle was present to attest to the bout of tears of a few short moments earlier.

Ada looked closely at her grandson and them at the other children one by one. Giving them her sternest expression, she said "Now, I wanna know exactly what happened out there. Why was Dodo (pronounced Doe-Doe) doing in the street?"

"Dot," Momma said, "What happened"

"Dodo ran into the street," the child simplified.

Momma miraculously increased the intensity of her sternest expression. "I know he ran in the street," she said tight-lipped. "Now, I want to know why he did it," she clarified unnecessarily.

Dot knew that whenever Momma talked like that, calmly saying each word, somebody was in trouble, and Momma was looking directly at her. Dot looked away gazing at the floor to break the intense eye contact. What to say? Her mind screamed the question receiving nothing in response.

"I dunno momma. He knows better than to cross the street alone," Dot stated the rule raising her chin and puffing her undeveloped chest. Her whole demeanor suggested that let the chips fall where they may, she had no answers to give.

Ada knew her youngest daughter was deliberately being evasive, she recognized the slight slant of her daughter's chin that suggested she had dug in for the long haul. Too stubborn for her own good, Ada thought. Looking at that obstinate expression, Ada knew from past experience that little information would be forthcoming from that source. She glanced at the others. Cowards the lot of them, she thought. She then looked back at Larry, who appeared on the verge of more tears.

"Okay Dodo, why did you run into the street like that?" Ada asked

"Momma," the little boy said, "I won't run in the street no mo," he promised.

Another dead-end Ada thought. The children were apparently united in their efforts to keep their little secret. Well, she decided they would suffer the consequences as soon as she discovered what they were up to. She was not about to be outdone by a bunch of snot-nosed kids who thought they could double talk her and get away with it.

There were five (5) of them...too many to spank at once; that approach, she decided would be tantamount to beating up herself. It would take more energy than she had to spare. But something had to be done. A repeat of today's incident could be disastrous. Whatever motivated the child's dash across the street needed to be identified and removed as an inducement to disobeying one of her most important rules.

The children responded differently to the various punishments she had used in the past, and judging by the expressions on their faces, each of them was dreading the worst. But, Larry was uninjured. Maybe, what had happened was punishment enough. At least, Ada knew she didn't have the energy and stamina to conduct a mass spanking when there was entirely too much work to be done. She had to finish the wash and get supper on the table, and the baby, sure as clockwork, would soon be waking from his afternoon nap demanding attention.

"Okay, the lot of you get in the front room and don't let me hear a peep outa you!" Ada ordered.

The relief on the children's faces was palatable. They scrambled to obey without a word spoken. Ada made sure Larry was feeling well, gave him a glass of water and sent him off to join the others. She then checked on the baby and went back to her daily chores. Throughout the remainder of the afternoon, Ada could hear the children whispering among themselves. She knew something was afoot with those little bandits, and vowed to keep a sharp eye on their activities until she got to the bottom of today's episode.

As children are wont to do, the incident was quickly forgotten. While they all lambasted Larry for getting them into trouble, none of them considered suspending operation honey bun. In fact, everyone eagerly awaited the next opportunity to raid Clayton's trash. A week's hiatus had simply honed their sweet tooth.

Frost fell overnight on the following Tuesday; Wednesday dawned gray and cold. Disappointment at the real possibility of not being able to conduct their operation was written clearly on the children's faces during the early morning hours. They whispered to each other and grew anxious as the day wore on. By early afternoon, the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky, but it was still cold.

Like always, Ada had done the weekly wash..going in and out the back door to hang the clothes on the clothesline to dry. She would provide the children with weather updates on each of her trips outside. After hanging out her last load of laundry, Ada informed the kids that they could go outside for a little while. She was hoping the fresh air would tire them enough so that when they did come back in they would be willing to take an afternoon nap. The children gleefully agreed, dressed in the heaviest coats and when outside.

In thinking back on the afternoon later, Ada would never understand why she chose to secretly watch the children from a side window. Perhaps, the incident the week before with Larry trying to cross the street was still very much on her mind. Whatever, she watched the children from a few minutes. As she watched, she realized the children were also busy watching. Rob, the older of the twins by a few minutes, was stationed at the back door. The door was closed due to the cold weather, so why was he at the back door rather than playing. Ada and Dot were at the gate to the fence talking to Larry. Ray, the younger twin, was apparently somewhere near his brother as always because Ada could not see him from her lookout point.

Ada saw the delivery truck come and go, as did the children. She missed Clayton's disposal of the cakes in the trash because the baby chose that moment to wake from his nap. She dried him and gave him a bottle, and then went back to check on the children. Just as she reached the window, she saw Larry scurrying across the street with a arm load of cakes. While she watched, he made another trip across the street. Well I'll be damned, Ada thought. So that is what those little bandits were up to last week. When she thought about it, there was no telling how long this little scam was going on right under her nose.

Apparently, the children did not alter their normal routine. They ate a portion of the loot and hid the remainder beneath the bed. While the children were busy playing, Ada retrieved the cakes from beneath the bed and placed them on the upper shelf of one of the kitchen cabinets.

When the school children came home an argument erupted over the hidden loot. The children were ferociously whispering among themselves, throwing accusations back and forth when Ada interrupted carrying the missing treats.

"Now," she said. "I want to know exactly what has been going on."

Faced with no way out, the children began explaining what had happened; their motivation to raid the trash can for the goodies; the fact that old man Clayton was evil for denying them the cakes when he was only throwing them away as garbage. Throughout their explanation, Ada's expression did not change. She was apparently not impressed with their line of reasoning; she was upset because they had raided the trash for food they did not need. They were poor by most folks' standards, but no one in her family went hungry. They could and would do without before resorting to theft. And, to Ada, theft was what it was since they were taking the cakes without Clayton's knowledge.

Without commenting on their actions, Ada made the older children put on their coats, she put on hers, and together they went over to the sundry. It was close to closing time, so there were few people in the store.

Ada explained to Clayton what had been happening, and made the children apologize for their inappropriate activities. After their somewhat muffled apologies, Ada sent the children home. She needed to talk with Clayton alone.

Ada looked at the stingy old crone wondering how to propose what she saw as a viable solution to her dilemma. She did not want to deny the children the treats, yet she scoffed at the idea of them raiding a trash bin to get them. They did nothing to earn the treats and it was degrading to have to resort to stealing out of the garbage to get them.

"Look, Clayton," she began, "I know we haven't exactly seen things eye to eye in the past, but I hope we can strike a bargain to settle this matter."

"Ada," he said, "I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I see no reason why something can't be worked out. What do you suggest?" he asked real friendly like.

Ada did not like that "I got you where I want you" look on his face as Clayton smiled at her waiting to hear her solution.

"Well," she began, "my youngest are the ones who have been taking the cakes from your trash. They're just too little to take on the work that Booker was doing to earn the right to have those cakes without stooping to stealing them from the garbage." She let him know that she knew the old treats were used as partial payment for Booker's work. "But," she said, "I'd be willing to pay you a few pennies a piece for those cakes before you throw them away. I'd also considering allowing Booker to sweep and empty trash twice a week for half of what you was paying him before."

"Now Ada," the old goat chuckled, "you seen to be getting the better end of that deal."

"Well," Ada clarified, "I didn't have to tell you what my children were doing, now did I?" she asked self-righteously.

"You got me there," he agreed. "You sure didn't have to tell me about their shenanigans. And, I would never have been the wiser," he conceded with a smile for the bristling woman. He respected Ada, and knew for a fact she cared little for him. Why that was he had yet to figure out. But, she sure tore into him about her boy Booker and the need for him to go to school to better him life, rather than working for him for pennies. He valued education himself, and would be the last to admit the time spent in a classroom had done him little good. After what appeared careful consideration, he agreed with Ada's solution. It was not until many years later that Ada learned the true nature of Clayton's relationship with the neighborhood. Long after she had moved from the area, not that it would have made much difference. The bandits got their cakes after all.