RE Bunch

From the Journal of Leticia Le-Rang-Par-Duex

Mama says they don’t serve cake at funerals. She says most funerals, everyone brings a dishes that they can leave behind after they’re gone. Mostly casseroles, sandwiches, cold cuts, maybe some sweets, but she has yet to go to a funeral where a cake was served.

“It’s just not polite,” she said. “It’s just one of those things you don’t do when asked to bring something.”

“What if they had a favorite cake? Wouldn’t they want to share it one last time?” I rolled that over in my head, and I can’t see how it would be impolite.

Mama shooed me out of the kitchen, uninterested in the conversation. She brought the book up to her to face while taking a slow drag of her cigarette. Sometimes Mama just isn’t in the mood to talk with me about things outside. She comes and goes, but she always sends food before she arrives. She likes to know we’re feed before she steps into the By-Blow. When Mama has to go to town to get us supper, she gets quiet.

I think about the people that Mama sends to us late at night. After Bolin has closed his eyes, and all the winged-bugs of the night have stopped their humming. I think about the lost ones often. I wonder what she tells them for them to end up here, or how they know to find us. Does anyone think of them now? I have to imagine they are mostly scared to be alone in this place. Some not even aware of where they are, thinking we’re part of a tourist stop. All lost, but lucky in a way to end up out here.

All lucky in a way they finally shared themselves with us. Giving us a piece of themselves. All that live in the By-Blow take turns on hosting and providing. Bolin takes the most joy in it. He’s always played with his food, even as a young boy. Being the biggest, he likes to show off the most. I think the others are just getting fat and lazy. I liked hosting at first, but I get mad. I don’t always want to say good-bye so quickly. I want to know them, spend time with them. It’s a friend you only have one memory of. That just isn’t enough.

I don’t think Bolin sees it that way, and I don’t think Mama does either. Meeting a new person every so often is like creating a new ghost. I like to think the ghost of those lost ones are still here in the By-Blow, living on through the things they left behind. All of their personal treasures finding a new life with us here. Wallets, towels, phones, and whole bunch of other things I haven’t found words for. All of it lives here with me now. I like to show to those that come in. I once had a man from an island tell me all about different turtles of the sea. He even could explain to me how they were different than our lake turtles. He had with him a small wooden turtle with flippers and pretty pink flower on its shell. When I feel alone, I tap its head to remember him by.

It must have been that person’s favorite thing since they came here with it. When I go swimming, I search the lake’s bottom for anything that might have been missed. Necklaces with weird pointy teeth, elegant rings, sometimes it’s just things I’ve never held before. Strange-shaped shells from some far away beach, or small plastic figurines that fell out of pockets. Its something special to hold on to. Bolin finds it to be needless clutter around the house. He says its stuff they wouldn’t want back even if I could return it to them. He thinks its just stuff cluttering their own pockets. So worthless even the land won’t take it back.

But if they did, I would have to imagine you would want your favorite things near you when you leave this earth. Something to pass along to a loved one or bring with you if you could. It’s just as much about you as anyone else around when it happens. I think at some point Mama had that same thought too. She used to throw away my ghosts when she caught me hiding them around the house, but now–I’m not so certain if I wore her down, or she sees it the same thing in her Hummingbird Cake.

She makes it during the last week of May every year. It was a recipe she got from her late friend Marie Jane Truett. She seems so sad when she makes it, but says every bite reminds Mama of Marie. Marie was just a happy woman and says the cake takes like that. Mama said the cruelest thing that could have ever happened to Marie did on the day she died. No body there could have helped her she says. She gave up her life to have a little baby boy she never got to hold. Mama said her and Marie’s man found her at the same time. Mama was still heavy with me, but heard the shrillest, saddest baby cry. No breath, just one long scream. No sound coming to comfort it. Walking in she found the baby shrieking on wet carpet of a small home. Marie was cold blue beside it. She says it haunts her in her sleep, and haunted Marie’s man in all hours of the day. When Marie died she took that man’s spirit with her. Mama said the lord finally returned that poor man back to earth recently. Mama said if Marie had stayed with her in the By-Blow a little while longer this all could have been avoided. Mama says that’s a price of leaving the By-Blow before its ready to give you up. I guess, it is one of those things. An inescapable fact of life that women and beasts must bow to eventually.

She gives the first piece of Hummingbird Cake to Marie every time. She cuts two big slices, the biggest and first for Marie. The second for herself. She places the cake gently on a napkin and brings it outside with her. The slices in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She sits on the back dock and listens to the By-Blow. The loud chattering of cicadas carries on the breeze, as the Sun baked boards warm her feet in the dusk. She sits quietly for a long while listening as the hot air slowly melts the frosting. She laughs after a while. A deep laugh. A laugh that is infectious when other people hear it. One that forces a smile onto your face as soon as it is heard. She slides Marie’s piece into the lake, then she digs into her slice. Mama says it’s important to remember her sweetly. She says we’ll get to meet her boy soon if everything goes well.

Remembering someone is often like remember a ghost anyways. Maybe we’d be less haunted if we remembered them with cake in the dead of night, then as they were to us.

Hummingbird Cake

• 3 c flour
• 2 c sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 3 large eggs
• 1½ c veggie oil
• 1½ tsp vanilla
• 1 can crushed pineapple in juice
• 3 ripe bananas
• 1 c chopped pecans

Cream Cheese Frosting

• 2 pkgs cream cheese
• 1 c salted butter
• 4 to 6 c powdered sugar
• 2 tsp vanilla extract

Additional Ingredient

• ¾ c halved pecan

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Whisk together flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon in a large bowl.
3. Add eggs and oil, stirring just until dry ingredients are moistened.
4. Stir in vanilla, pineapple with juice, mashed bananas, and chopped pecans.
5. Divide batter evenly among 3 greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans.
6. Bake in preheated oven until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes.
7. Cool in pans on wire racks 10 minutes. Remove from pans to wire racks, and cool completely, about 1 hour.
8. Prepare the Cream Cheese Frosting: Beat cream cheese and butter with an electric mixer on medium-low speed until smooth. Gradually add powdered sugar, beating at low speed until blended after each addition. After 4^th cup check how thick and sweet the frosting is, add additional cups to get desired frosting. Stir in vanilla. Increase speed to medium-high, and beat until fluffy, 1 to 2 minutes.
9. Assemble Cake: Place 1 Cake Layer on a serving platter; spread a good layer of frosting on top. Place second cake on top of frosted first cake, repeat as above. Top with third layer, and spread remaining frosting over top and sides of cake. Decorate with remaining pecans. Good cake can be ugly cake. It’s how people know it came from the heart.