For the previous Coconut Queen editions, visit my Neverending stories page!

With Miss Louise’s words still swirling in her mind, Essie May dragged herself to the bakery at the crack of dawn the next morning.  Rubbing her eyes, she pounded on the door.  Through the glass, she could see Freda’s beaming face as she barreled toward her.  Today, her grey curls were smeared with blue and white icing and red sprinkles.

“Hallo, Essie liebe!” she cried in her thick German accent.  “How are you dis fine morning?”

“Tired,” Essie replied in a biting tone.  Freda’s cheerful face crumpled and her shoulders slumped.  Essie reached out for her arm.  “I’m sorry, Freda.  I’m really tired and cranky, I’m afraid.  I didn’t mean to snap.”

Freda beamed, yanking Essie to her extremely large bosom and slapping her head in a vigorous attempt to soothe her.  “There, there, liebchen.  It will all be all right.  You are stressed about the Coconut Queen competition, ja?  Mrs. Bumfrey told us you were running against Queenie.  That poor, unfortunate child.”

“Unfortunate?”  Essie tried to raise her head, but Freda’s arm was wrapped around her skull in an iron grip.  “How is Queenie unfortunate?”

“There are many things one can not see,” Freda cooed, pounding her palm into Essie’s temple.  “Now, now, little one.  We will go in the kitchen and have some coffee and a coconut strudel, ja?  We just made some.  Hot and fresh.  That will banish your morning grumpiness, ja, ja.”

“Then what is this all about?” Essie asked, snaking her arm through Freda’s tight grasp to point to the streaks of blue icing in the frizzy grey crown surrounding her head.  Freda’s wrinkled face burst into laughter.

“We were making coconut cupcakes for a little girl,” she boomed in her thick accent.  “She loves the ocean, so we were trying for a beach look with blue waves and coconut for the sand.”

“That’s pretty creative,” Essie croaked as Freda’s arms tightened around her for a final squeeze.

The kitchen door burst open and Etta and Zelda tumbled through, scowling.  The two ancient sisters were dripping from head to toe with blue icing, their thick spectacles spotted with specks of coconut.  Essie burst out laughing.

“Freda!” Zelda whined.  “Your idiot sister broke the icing bag and it blew up all over us!”

“Me?” Etta shrieked.  “You are the one who was fooling around with the new set of knives.  Why does a bakery even need knives?  Are you planning to kill us all in your sleep?”

“How am I ever supposed to get to sleep?”  Zelda hissed, poking Etta with a blue finger.  “You kick and snore!”

“That’s Freda, nicht me!” Etta howled.  She screamed a series of German words that sounded an awful lot like profanities.  Zelda gasped and shouted back.  The two sisters launched themselves at each other, tumbling about on the floor in a mess of grey hair, orthopedic shoes and mounds of blue icing and shredded coconut.

“Anschlag!” Freda screeched, releasing Essie and storming over to her sisters.  She picked them up by their necks like naughty kittens and glared at each sister.  “You vill clean up and behave, ja?  We have much work to do.  Two parties and a coconut cake along with our usual inventory.  We have no time for this.  Etta, you will make more blue icing while Zelda shreds the coconut.”

“Why do I have to make the icing?” Etta howled.

“Why do I have to shred the coconut?” Zelda whined.

Freda narrowed her eyes.  Even Essie took a step back.  When a plump grey-haired German immigrant with pink cherub cheeks and heart-shaped chin got mad, it was a terrifying sight.  Etta and Zelda bowed their heads and muttered under their breath.  Freda set them on the floor and they scurried into the kitchen, muttering under their breath.

“What’s ‘anschlang’ mean?” Essie asked.

“Stop,” Freda replied.

Essie nodded.  “Good to know.  I think I’ll stay out here with my coffee.”

“And strudel,” Freda corrected.  “You must have a strudel.  I will bring you coconut to shred while you wait to open.”

From her tone, Essie knew it was best not to argue.

***

By eight in the morning, Essie was quietly starting to panic.  She had sold crossiants and strudels and muffins and scones, handed out menus and wiped down tables.  But despite her relaxed demeanor, she was searching.  Searching for someone to give the coconut to.  Miss Louise’s words echoed in the back of her mind like a warning, making her hands sweat as she took patron after patron’s cash.  The last thing she wanted to do was make a mistake.  She didn’t have time to make a mistake.  As it stood now, she only had two days from her commitment at the bakery until the pagent.  Every minute of those two days was precious.

And she had 14 coconuts to hand out.  14 coconuts to give to someone who represented the beauty of Coconut, or the beauty of the Coconut Queen.  She wasn’t sure which.

The morning rush had slowed.  Essie buried her face at the register, tapping her foot against the wooden base of the glass display of various coconut coffee cakes.

“Coconuts,” she muttered.  “I need to see the beauty behind coconuts.”  She stood and looked at the coconut perched on her wooden stool.