Essie May pounded on the bakery door, peering inside at the single light burning through the shop windows.  Stifling a yawn, she sagged against the door frame.

“Four a.m.,” she muttered, glaring at the bakery door.  “I didn’t think I’d see four a.m. until college.  And I had hoped it would be after a wild party, not the time my alarm went off!”  She pounded on the door again, kicking the doorframe for added measure.  “Hello?” she called.  “Mrs. Bumfrey?  Hello?”

Through the dusty shop window, she saw a grizzled grey head pop out of the kitchen.  Bursting into a smile, the red-cheeked old woman scurried towards her.  Her hands were covered with spots of batter and flour up to her elbows and the white apron she wore over her sunny yellow dress was covered in pastel icing smears.  With a flourish, she unopened the door and ushered Essie inside.

“Dahling, it is good you are here, ja?  We have much to do!”

Essie May peered at the portly woman hurrying back to the kitchen.  Hot pink sprinkles twinkled in her hair.  A loud opera aria was bursting over the tinny speakers of the small stereo, drowning out the sounds of mixers and beaters in the kitchen.

“I’m afraid I haven’t met you before,” she said, extending her hand.  “Have you worked here long?  I’ve never seen you around town.”

The woman pumped her head, bouncing up and down.  “Ja, ja.  We’ve been here for years.”

Essie May blinked.  “We?”

Her eyes twinkling, the woman stepped to the side and gestured inside the kitchen.  Essie stepped forward tentatively, blinking in the bright kitchen light.  Blinking, she burst into laughter.

“I must be dreaming,” she murmured, giggling so hard she had to clutch her stomach.  “This must be a joke.”

“Nein!” the woman cried, shaking her head.  A shower of sprinkles rained around her feet.  “I am Freda, and these are my sisters Zelda and Etta.”   Two identical grey heads bobbed up and down, their pink chubby cheeks identical to Freda’s.

“Baking triplets,” Essie May whispered, her cheeks twitching.  “That’s…interesting.  How long have you worked here?”

“Forever,” Zelda replied.

“Coconut had a lot of German settlers you know,” Etta informed her, her high voice on the verge of hysterical laughter.  “Lots of German settlers…”

Freda narrowed her eyes and barked a command in German.  Bowing their heads, Zelda and Etta focused on their coconut pastries.

“So what would you like me to do?” Essie May asked, turning away from the sisters.  “When does Mrs. Bumfrey come in?”

“Much later,” Freda admitted.  “She left me a list of instructions, however.  She said your job here was very important.”

Essie May stifled a yawn, raising her hand to her mouth.  “So am I baking, icing, stirring?”

Freda shook her head, her red cheeks shining.  “Much better!”

“Much, much better,” Zelda added.

“Much, much, much better!” Etta shrieked, collapsing into giggles.  Coconut dangled from her grey curls and stuck in the thin whiskers bobbing on her chin.

Freda glared at them before continuing.  “Your job is to hand out the coconuts,” she announced, pointing to the wall behind Essie.  Essie whirled around.  Fourteen coconuts sat on a shelf.   Essie reached forward and stroked the coarse brown skin with one finger.  Cringing at the sensation, she drew back.

“I’ll never understand,” she muttered, wiping her hand on her jeans.  She glanced at Freda.  “Who do I give the coconuts to?”

Freda’s eyes widened.  “Have you never been to the bakery during coconut season?”

Essie May stepped back.  An uneasy feeling burned in the bottom of her stomach.  “If I have, I don’t remember,” she replied.  “I mean, we come to the bakery a lot.  I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Freda pursed her lips, clucking her tongue.  “Vat they teach in schools, ja?  No matter.  Before the Coconut Queen is chosen every summer, our bakery gives away a Coconut every day for two weeks before the event.  Mrs. Bumfrey said your job is to work the register, study the customers and hand out the coconuts.  You are to give the coconut to the most deserving person.  You can only stop when the coconuts are all gone.”

“How do I figure out the most deserving person?”  Essie May asked.

“It is the person most deserving of the Coconut,” Freda replied, rolling her eyes.  “Am I not speaking English?”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Essie cried.  “It could be a million things.  It could be the oldest or youngest person, the prettiest or ugliest.  It could be an old Coconut Queen or a politician, or just some random tourist.  How do I know who to give it to?”

A knowing smile crept across Freda’s face.  “You’ll know,” she replied.

Essie May rubbed her eyes, then glared at the wall of coconuts.  “This must be a dream,” she murmured, running her fingers through her hair and tugging at her freshly trimmed ends.  “I’m either going crazy or this is a dream.”

“Neither, schalzlien,” Freda bellowed happily.  Handing her a coconut, she shoved her out into the dining room.  “Breakfast starts at six.  Price sheet is by the register!  Good luck!”

Turning the coconut over in her palm, Essie murmured, “I’ll need it.”

***

By eight a.m., Essie had rang up fifteen donuts, dozens of coconut pastries and kolaches, a few cakes and three apple and coconut strudels.  She had lead hungry, cranky customers to tables and poured mug after mug of coffee.

And she still had no idea who to give the coconut too.

Slumped over the register, she was spinning the coconut on the glass counter when she heard a familiar thick accent.  “So dear, tell me how your first day is going.”

Essie May glared up at Mrs. Bumfrey’s smirking face.  “I’m exhausted, nauseous from the smell of all that icing for four hours and confused!” she snapped.

“About what?” Mrs. Bumfrey drawled, biting into a cherry strudel topped with coconut.

“This!” Essie May thrust the coconut in her face.  “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Why, give it to the most deserving Coconutian, of course.”  Mrs. Bumfrey took a delicate bite.  A piece of coconut stuck to her chin.  It took all of Essie’s willpower not to slap it off.

“And how do I determine who is deserving?” she muttered through clenched teeth.  “You haven’t given me a specific criteria.”

Mrs. Bumfrey swallowed the rest of the coconut strudel and delicately wiped her fingers on her sleeve.  Taking the coconut from Essie, she held it up.  “What do you see?”

“A coconut.”

“No,” Mrs. Bumfrey repeated patiently.  “What do you see?”

“A coconut,” Essie repeated, drawing the syllables out slowly.

Mrs. Bumfrey sighed and set the coconut on the counter.  “You’re not ready yet.”  Shaking her head, she pulled an apron out of her purse and slid it over her perfectly coiffed hair.

“One thing you should know,” she said, her voice quiet and lined with steel.  “If you give the coconut to the wrong person, you get an extra day.”

“How would you know?” Essie snapped back before she could think.

A smug smile curled across Mrs. Bumfrey’s blush-laden cheeks.  “I know.”

Whipping around, she slid into the kitchen.

It was all Essie could do not the throw the coconut at the back of her head.

To be continued…

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a tasty Mexican treat and Friday, a new Twirl!  Then we have a all new Critter Confessions this weekend!  Stay tuned!