The land of candy and lollipops

When Dean lost his father at the tender age of eight, his mother struggled financially. Instead of making his favourite sandwich, peanut butter and jam, he was faced with just peanut butter as his mother could not afford both and decided that peanut butter was more ‘nutritious’. Dean yearned for the jam in his sandwiches and decided to sneak into the only place on earth where there was a jam fountain…the island of candy and lollipops.

In order to get to candy island, first Dean had to pretend to go to sleep and wait until his mother went to bed. He looked at the clock when she finally turned in and it read, 10:03. Dean waited until 10:30 before kicking off the bedspread, and, as he was fully clothed, picked up his backpack which contained an empty jam jar and a speaker, before sneaking downstairs and quietly let himself out of the house.

Dean, who was excited about the fact that he might have jam in his peanut butter sandwich the next day, walked to the lake, not 200 meters from his house, and got in a boat. He placed the backpack in the front of the boat and picked up the oars. He didn’t have to row himself far, as the island of candy was slap bang in the middle of the small lake.

When he got there, he saw the two green trolls with bulging yellow bellies, and teeth that stuck out of their bottom jaws guarding the entrance. He knew, from his friend George, who boasted that he had snuck in several times, that the trolls fell asleep to the sound of music. Dean tied the boat to the foot of the island, just below the trolls, and climbed up the rocks until he was just below them. He reached into his backpack for the speaker George gave him and put on a soft, melodious playlist he spent all week making. Sure enough, before the first song was thirty seconds in, Dean heard two loud ‘thuds’ and then the sound of snoring from the rock above him.

Dean peeked his head up and the two trolls were fast asleep. ‘Thank you, George!’ Dean muttered and left the speaker under the first tree beside the entrance. As he progressed further, he smelt the stink of trolls. They smelt of a toilet bowl that needed cleaning and, as he got closer, their breath smelt of a garbage truck. He put that down to the fact that the only teeth he could see were yellow at the tip, and brown at the base. One of the trolls' long, brown tongue was sticking out, something Dean had to step over in order to get to the gates of sweet heaven.

With his backpack securely on his back, Dean realised that he was going to have to take a bunch of keys off the troll who smelled the worst. They were grasped securely in its hand. ‘George didn’t mention anything about keys!’ Dean thought aloud, and looked to see a way he could get him to loosen his grip just enough for Dean to take them. He saw a feather at the foot of the gate and ran to it, only to return and tickle the disgusting creatures' fingertips gently. Thankfully, it worked! The keys were free! He quickly grabbed them and opened the heavy, wrought iron gate, into the land of candy and lollipops.

The first thing Dean noticed once he entered was the colourful bricked road, made out of fox’s glacier fruits. The road shone brightly as the lights shone down upon it. He followed this road, his mouth ajar at the pure brilliance of how each and every tree was made out of stacks and stacks of Ferrero Roche’s. He was tempted to take one, but changed his mind as his hand reached for one of the lower most delights. ‘You are here for jam!’ he scolded himself. There was a chocolate river flowing through the land, with bridges made from marshmallows here, there, and everywhere.

Because Dean knew that there was only one jam fountain, but other types of fountains all around, he had to investigate each and every one before finding the right one. He bounced over two marshmallow bridges, his mouth salivating with every bounce, until he found what he was looking for. The jam fountain, when he found it, was glowing, and he could hear music, that only angels play, around it! Dean took out the jam jar from his backpack and tried to approach the spouting treasure, but the ground wasn’t of fox’s glacier fruits anymore. The treasure he was desperate for was surrounded by a moat of flowing, sticky jam.

Dean tried and tried to reach over the moat to get to the jam volcano, but he was having no look. On his third try, he fell into the moat and, when he came up for air, he wiped the red sticky goo off his eyes and mouth and successfully climbed out of the thick mess that was trying to drag him under. When he looked at his clothes, he saw that they were ruined. ‘How am I going to be able to explain this to mom?’ he asked himself.

He took a deep breath in through his nose as he realised that maybe this just wasn’t meant to be! What he could smell wasn’t just jam, but something that reminded him of garbage. He quickly removed the jam from his ears and heard something snarling behind him. With his eyes open widely, he slowly turned around, only to find two big green trolls with yellow stomachs and protruding bottom teeth, holding staffs with a distinctive silver point on the top, behind him.

One of the trolls looked towards the other and they nodded. Before he could stop them, the one on the right snatched the jam jar out of Dean’s hand, whilst the one on the left pointed his staff at Dean so closely that he could feel the sharpness of what was unmistakably a weapon on the end.

The first troll looked at the jam jar and barked, ‘what’s this for?’ Looking at the weapon that was touching his skin, even though his clothes, Dean tried to quickly explain that he was desperate for a jar of jam but that he fell into the moat trying to get it. The one with the jar easily reached over the moat and collected the jam from the fountain spout. Before he handed him the jar of fresh raspberry jam, the disgusting creature asked, ‘why sneak in to get it?’ Dean almost passed out with the smell of his breath as he talked.

Dean was suddenly aware that he had the keys still in his hand when the one with the weapon moved it towards Dean’s hand. He gruffly put the sharp bit of the staff through the ring, Dean letting go immediately, and the keys slid into the monster's hand once again. As the keys were covered in the sticky substance, Dean found himself apologising profusely!

The troll with the succulent jam jar, picked Dean up by the scruff of his neck and took him behind the scenes of the land of candy and lollipops. It was a place that was opposite where he had come. There were no marshmallow bridges, or chocolate rivers…there was just little blue creatures, the size of pixies, who obviously maintained the land!

The troll put him in their hands and they spoke a language that he couldn’t understand, but knew from their tone that they weren’t happy! Two of the little blue pixies picked Dean up by the shoulders of his hoodie and they flew towards a grey cubicle that Dean wasn’t expecting to be there. They dropped him into it and a gush of warm, soapy water was pointed in his direction. Once all of the jam was off him, he then got sprayed with cold water to get the suds the soap and jam had created. With his teeth chattering, Dean was then picked up by two very different pixies, stronger ones, and dropped into another cubicle where he felt a spurt of warm air blow onto his freshly cleaned clothes.

After he was dry, Dean didn’t feel sticky anymore and was grateful to the magical pixies. He tried to form words to that effect, but they couldn’t understand him. He was picked up for a third time, this time by four of the flying blue creatures and handed back to the trolls who were manning the gate once more. They handed Dean back George’s speaker and his backpack and gruffly placed him back in the boat, pushing him towards the mainland. Dean didn’t need to use the oars whatsoever and hit the dock from where he came with such a thud, he was almost ejected from the boat…almost!

He climbed out and made his way home. By the time he reached his bed, it was 2:30 in the morning and he yawned the biggest yawn he ever made. Too tired to get into his pyjamas, Dean jumped into bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow!

The next morning, his mother woke him, as usual, and Dean noticed he was in his pyjamas. ‘How did that happen?’ he asked himself. Still tired from the busy night he just had. He walked slowly down the stairs and to his surprise, saw his mother making peanut butter and jam sandwiches. He looked at her confused. ‘Where did the jam come from mom?’ he asked. ‘It was just on the counter when I came down, dear!’ she answered, just as surprised as he was.

‘You had a very vivid dream last night my angel!’ his mother told him. ‘Something about trolls and pixies, and the land of candy and lollipops?’ Dean began to question whether it was actually something that happened or if it was actually a dream. In the end, he settled on not wanting to know, as either way, he had fun! He rushed into the hall to see if he could tell by looking in his backpack, but it was full of his school books!

At lunch that day, Dean dug into his delicious sandwich, and asked George whether his speaker was ruined and covered in jam. ‘What speaker?’ George answered quizzically. Dean was speechless! He had obviously been dreaming, but if he was, how could the jam be accounted for? He came to the conclusion that he just had an unusual dream and went about the rest of his day.

As Dean walked home from school, he was sure that he saw three small, blue pixies behind the tree at the edge of the lake, but the land of candy and lollipops was gone. It was no longer in the middle of the lake, which looked bare without it. He smiled to himself however as he watched the pixies high five each other, before vanishing into thin air.

He will never know whether it was a dream or not, but from then on, a jar of jam appeared every so often so his mother could make his favourite sandwich for lunch!