When she saw him that clear spring day she had been alone, left crying in the schoolyard with a white smear on her cheek, a stick of chalk in her hand and an unfinished hopscotch box drawn on the pavement. She heard him whistling as he came around the corner from the Negro church just a few blocks down. He wore brown tweed slacks, a cream coloured shirt under a matching tweed vest and a shiny, brown bowler hat. His skin was a rich, dark brown, like chocolate and when he stopped in front of the fence to fix her with a curious look, his presence stunned her into silence.

           He gave a wide smile and she marveled at how white his teeth were. Then, as she continued to stare, he winked and tipped his hat forward. He started to walk again after that, his jazzy whistle floating back to where she sat with the white smear on her wet cheeks. It was when he was almost out of sight that she jumped to her feet and ran across the concrete to the other end of the yard. She twisted her fingers through the fence as she watched him saunter around the corner and disappear. She smiled widely and wondered if the chocolate man would come back again tomorrow.