The Rabbit and the Secret Candy
Twenty minutes after our grandparents left to take a nap, we went upstairs to the third floor, as usual, with the excitement of doing something secret. Like every weekend for the last few years, all ten of us tip toed upstairs, made sure our grandparents were asleep, and headed for the last room of the corridor, where we knew the candy was hidden.
We had done it so many times, we had a choreography by then. We waited for our grandparents to go nap, went quietly upstairs to the room where we knew they hid the candy, and in complete silence I, the youngest of the cousins, would sneak under the door and take the candy. I was the only one small enough to fit in the space between the tall door and the floor.
One of the oldest cousins had wandered in the kitchen by mistake one day, and heard that that was where the grandparents kept the candy, and since that day the grandkids had taken the candy during nap time. This started happening before I was even born, but know I was part of it, and since I was the smallest, I was the designated grandkid to take the candy. Plus, my older cousins said if anyone found out they could not be mad at the youngest grandkid, and they were probably right.
The trick was to never take more than needed, I was taught, a moment of greed could have ended the secret candy for us forever. There were chocolates, gummies, cookies, lollipops, and every candy we could imagine, and as long as I took one or two of each no one would realize, we thought.
This time, which I remember because it was the last, everything went as usual. I went under the door, looked for the old rusty oven, next to the window, where the candy was located, and as I was about to open the oven door I heard the noise outside the room. Whispers, then nervous laughs, then little steps getting away, and finally heavy steps coming my way. The door opened up, and there he was, my grandfather, who in the darkness looked like a giant.
I hadn’t open the oven yet, so I was not fully caught, so when he asked what I was doing there, I said I liked the wooden and brass rabbit on top of the rusty oven in front of us. He smiled, probably feeling bad about my lie, and said I could keep the rabbit, that it would be our secret.
He never mentioned it to anyone, and I never tried to sneak into the room again, but one of our cousins said the candy had been moved somewhere else. The grandparents sold the house a few years after when the grandkids grew up. However, I still have the rabbit made of wood and brass, and every time I see it I think of my grandparents house, and the memories inside of it.