Alvin Mims felt differently from the rest. He had always been someone to make a big issue out of even the smallest occurrences. It wasn't that he meant to be harmful or hurtful; it just gave him something to relieve the monotony of the serious office work. He failed to understand that what he thought of as funny could be distressing for a sensitive person like Darryl Blake.

Approaching the vending machine at the three o'clock break, Alvin addressed the candy gnome in a voice loud enough to capture the attention of the whole room. "Hello Norwood Gnome," he announced as he propped his hand against the top of the machine and glared through the front panel. "I see you hiding in there behind the M&Ms. What shall it be today? Candy or chips?" Plunking three quarters into the slot, he reached his finger toward the D-2 button, hesitated, then moved toward G-9. Again he changed his mind and pushed B-7. "Nothing wakes a fella up better than a race amongst the snacks, I always say," Alvin chuckled as he retrieved his bag of Fritos. "Perhaps we should take up a collection to buy the little guy a new pair of sneaks."

"Would you really do that, Al?" Darryl asked as he approached the vending machine for his own snack. "That would be really nice of you. We could pick out of a pair of sneaks for him. Maybe even a pair of Nikes." Shifting the three quarters around in his palm, he suddenly decided against his mid-afternoon candy bar and, grabbing ahold of Alvin's hand, transferred the coins. "Seventy-five cents isn't much but it's a start."

Dismayed, Alvin stood before a room of staring faces. In the candy machine behind him, the gnome stood with his face plastered against the plexiglass window. He knew he had taken his joke too far and, for once in his life, he didn't know how to back out of it. Still clutching his bag of chips and the three coins, he silently returned to his desk.

"You can't keep his money," Stella whispered to Alvin as she slid her desk chair closer to his. The shiny silver quarters lay in a short stack beside his computer keyboard.

"What can I do? Everyone knows I was just pulling his leg."

"Darryl didn't know."

"Darryl's a mor..."

"Don't say it, Alvin," Stella cautioned. She might be a no nonsense employee, but she did have a heart; she had stood out against calling other people names all her life and wouldn't stand for her desk mate doing it. "Darryl's different, that's all. He's a nice guy and, if you ever needed anything, he would be right there for you. He'd be there for any of us. So leave him alone, why don't you?"

"There's no gnome in the candy machine, 'Ella. Nothing there." Rising to his feet, Alvin shouted across the room: "You're not there, you stupid little creature! Not there! Do you get it, Darryl? There's nothing in there."