Gumball Machines
by Armando Ortiz
Odracir wasn’t your common comedian, living a simple life of books, music and food, he spent most of his mornings, afternoons and evenings doing just that. He considered himself an artist, but not your usual run of the mill artist, no he thought that what he did was unique and more enigmatic of what a real artist did. After graduating university, and spending some time working in the corporate world he discovered that the competition and cut throat environment didn’t suit his easy going nature, and in fact to some extent had corrupted the easiness with a bit of cynicism. He decided to quit his job, and go out onto the world alone, free. All he had was his freedom and a clever mind to make a living on this earth.
The money he made hadn’t really dented the personality that he’d developed growing up. He’d lived in various parts of Los Angeles, mostly living in studio apartments with his parents and younger brother, so when he’d been offered his first employment contract he was shocked at the amount of money he’d be making, which was double of what his father made a year. He kept living with his parents for some time and then ended up moving to a studio across the hall from where they lived. Most of the money he made was spent in sending his parents to Central America on vacation and sending them to Mexico to visit some of the famous sites there. All along he also got into the business of buying gumball machines. He found this particular type of business very intriguing, and required some work, but not much. He’d started off with two gumball machines that he’d bought at a thrift store along Pico boulevard. The old looking machine brought back child memories that he’d long forgotten, of the simple and fun days, where all one needed was ten cents to satisfy a sugar craving.
He’d been on one of his daily walks, and rarely paid attention to what was going on inside all the mom and pop stores that peppered the Bizantine - Latino Quarter of Los Angeles. It was a nice name to a place that was mostly made up of recently arrived Central Americans, and South of the border Southern Mexicans that started to arrive in Los Angeles en masse after the mid-1990s. That day though as he was walking and listening to his music he saw two old gumball machines. They were still that candy red that brought back old memories, but he could see the different layers that reached the gray galvanized steel that covered the gum ball machine. He stopped, squatting down, he could see all the detail on the lever that one turned and the different mechanical pieces that could barely be seen in the small opening that was made available when one slightly turned the handle clockwise. The action itself immediately took him back to when he’d buy candy from the old store on Rampart and Beverly, when his mother would take him to do some grocery shopping. The lever was cold, and the red paint was smooth like a clean ceramic plate. There was a magical aura to the machines, and it only became more intense when he saw the “For Sale” sign attached right up the opening where one got their candy.
The day he walked into his parents apartment with the gum ball machine everyone was quite taken back. What would they do with a gum ball machine? Pay ten cents to get a ball of gum from that contraption? Yes, that is exactly what Pyraneo thought, the idea was for the gumball machine to act like a quasi piggy bank and after a while he’d use the money from it to buy different candies. In the process of learning how to extract the money from the machines and put the candy inside he saw that the machine components were quite simple and soon realized that he also had a knack at refurbishing them, since all that was required was to place an order for the parts from the company phone number that was inside of the machines.
It wasn’t long before when he got the idea that he could make a steady income with the machines, so he asked the owner of the building where they lived if he could place the gum ball machines outside the building. Of course the owner, knowing that they’d lived in the building for about eight years, and had paid their rent on time ever since moving there, didn’t think twice to give him the ok. He soon discovered that it wasn’t a bad thing, and the profit margin for what was invested was pretty good. Gumballs had an usually long shelf life, and nobody really paid attention to them, except for kids, and as long as they were in a shaded area there was not much to worry about except for the occasional repairs.
He kept working for the company, slowly saving his money, and enjoying his life having nice dinners in cevicherias- he’d take his parents to San Pedro where they ate spicy crayfish and fish tacos. At that time the pair of gum ball machines were pulling in 10 dollars a week, and he was spending about a dollar and a half in gum. He began to look into buying another set of machines and soon discovered that he could buy them used from a factory in Downtown Los Angeles where scrap metal was bought and sold. Soon afterwards the two that he’d started off with had turned into five, and the kids kept buying and buying the ten cent candies. Soon he was asking Laundromat store owners for permission to set up gumball machines, which they duly agreed since there was no harm in having some sell ten cent candies.
After some time something happened to him. He let the worm of desire and want get the better of him and he began to tinker with the machines trying to figure out ways to limit the amount of candy that was given out. In the process of trying to control the flow of his goods he found that there was a mechanism where the machine would take the money, but it wouldn’t give gum or candy, and it only worked after the second time. This left him wondering. Wondering of the possibilities. What he was making now was 50 dollars a week, but with this unsuspecting error he could make 100.
He began to tinker with the machines, altering the workings of the first two he’d bought. He hadn’t thought about where the money really was coming from. He only thought about the jump in his profits and comedic scenes that would soon be unfolding under his window, when kids putting their coins inside the machine, expecting to get some sugar coated goodie, would receive a disappointing surprise. He relished the thought and the first day that he used his altered machines, which if you recall, were placed outside the building where he lived, he kept looking outside of his window and peering down to see the first kid that would fall for the trap.
The first kid to fall for the con was not yet five and had some bugger running down his nose. He wore some brown slacks, and a green shirt that read, Mexico 86. The kid put the coin inside, turned the lever, and expecting for something to roll out cupped his right hand under the exit chamber, but nothing happened. The kid tried turning the lever again, but there was no coin, so it just got stuck. He opened the lid of the exit chamber and with his hand slapped the gumball machine, but the only thing that could be heard were the gumballs rattling sound as they bounced off the glass that contained them. The kid once again opened the old aluminum lid from the round chamber hoping for a gum to freely fall, but nothing happened. He ran around the corner, and a few moments later returned with a new coin. This time the machine did give him some gum and now his pace significantly slowed down, as if content. For weeks no one said anything, which surprised him more than worried making him wonder how many kids lived in the neighborhood. Nevertheless, the day came when he received the first phone call.
