I cannot recall where it started.
I only remembered a hot desert day. I knew they sold candy somewhere beyond that chinquapin and salt bush covered hard pan.
I wanted that sweet taste something awful.
There was no fence around the yard then. The dingy green Bermuda grass petered out into the desert brush. That brush was inhabited by rattlesnakes, coyotes, and puma.
I carefully weighed my chances.
I decide it was worth the risk. I felt invincible. I would take it one step at a time. I carefully scurried from one bush to the next scouting the trail ahead. I kept the sun on my left.
It was scorching hot.
After what seemed like days I came to a place where ranch and farm equipment was parked. I knew I was close now. I was hot and thirsty. Stupidly I had taken no water.
I made it to the store.
Tootsie rolls sold two for a penny. I asked for two and handed over my penny. That was the best tasting candy I ever ate. I wasn't sure about my return trip.
Don Johnson, the store owner, removed his apron and came around the corner and picked me up. He asked me where my Mommy was. I pointed toward my home. He drove me home.
Every great journey starts with a single step.
When I got home, the sheriff's search posse was there. My mother was terrified. I was lectured about being only 2 yrs old and walking the five miles across wild desert to buy candy.