Mary Janes

It was in one of her molars, in the back of her mouth. Metal, because that’s what they used back then. Her first few would later be replaced– tooth colored.
Afterwards, her mother took her shopping for new shoes, the pretty ones with the buckles she’d liked so much, but she was woozy from the experience (not the Novocain, but the memory of the needle pushing into her gums, of the dentist holding it there, holding), and her legs felt light and wobbly. Her mother told her that if she were brave, if she got through it, she’d get a present. It would be wrong, of course, to fault the girl for her sweet tooth with her mother parked nightly on the couch with a bag of Maple Nut Goodies.
It was a word the girl didn’t like, ‘goodies,’ and would never like, thought the candies were pretty good.