A Duck In Her Pond » The Coconut Queen

The Coconut Queen 18

Blond Duck — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 10:00:15 +0000

“And the winner is…” the announcer repeated. Queenie tossed her hair and smirked at the other girls. “Sorry, Susan,” she sneered. “I guess Julliard wasn’t good enough to make you Coconut Queen.”

“He hasn’t even announced the winner,” Essie pointed out through gritted teeth, careful to keep her smile gleaming towards the judges table.

“You seriously think YOU have a chance?” Queenie scoffed. “Do you know who my dad is? Most of these judges work for him,” she bragged, pointing towards the judge’s table. “You think they’re going to risk their job to make one of you two Queen? In this economy?” She poked Susan and snorted. “I mean, your dad works for mine, Susan. You really think you can win over me?”

Susan ducked her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Not for the first time, Essie felt a rush of rage for Queenie. Forcing herself to bite her tounge, she patted Susan’s arm. “Susan could beat you any day, Queenie. Besides, your dad isn’t judging this competition, those people are. And they have to follow rules and regulations. Rules that even you and your dad have to follow.” Queenie narrowed her eyes and tossed her frazzled hair.

“Whatever,” she muttered.

Susan gave Essie a grateful look as the announcer ripped open the envelope in his pudgy hand. “The winner is…” he started to slide the card out of the envelope. Essie May sucked in her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Wait!” A frantic shout ran through the hall. Essie May’s eyes flew open to see Mrs. Bumfrey flying down the aisle in the most undignifed manner, with her skirts flaring around her knobby, droopy knees and her orthapedic shoes clomping against the ground. Essie May groaned.

“What did you do now, Essie?” Queenie chortled, her garish red leer gleaming in the bright stage lights. “Forget to make a pie? More like forget to eat a pie!” She eyed Essie’s waist, considerably smaller than her own, and giggled.

Heaving, Mrs. Bumfrey ascended the stage and plucked the microphone out of the shocked announcer’s hand. “Mrs. Bums–Bumsfrey,” he stuttered. “To what do we owe this honor?”

Essie May blinked and narrowed her eyes. “Honor?” she repeated under her breath.

“Forgive me, judges, audience and Coconut Queen participants,” Mrs. Bumfrey cooed. “But as President of the Coconut Queen Board for the past 20 years running, I would be remiss if I let you announce a winner. You see, you did not complete the mandatory interview of why these fine ladies–” She swept her hand over the stage–”Want to be Coconut Queen.”

The head judge stood up, wringing his hands. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bumfrey,” he simpered. “We were just so taken by that secret of Coconut Pie we got distracted.” From backstage, Miss Louise gave Essie a thumbs up.

“President of the board?” Susan’s eyes widened. “Wow, Essie, you got to work with her? I didn’t know Mrs. Bumfrey was president of the board! She’s the one that decides everything, you know. My mom told me that nothing gets past her.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Essie murmured. Queenie wrinkled her nose and pouted.

The announcer looked at the judges, who stared back like a herd of deer in front of a alien spaceship. “No, no, ma’am!” he shouted, tearing up the envelope into dozens of small pieces and throwing them into the air. They fluttered around Mrs. Bumfrey’s feet as she shuffled towards the contestants, the microphone cord wrapping around her dress.

“Ladies, I’ll ask you one final question. You’ll have thirty seconds to respond. Understand?”

Dozens of heads bobbed up and down.

Mrs. Bumfrey nodded. Without looking at Essie, she shuffled down to the opposite end of the stage.

“Why do you want to be Coconut Queen?” she asked the first girl.

“World peace!” the girl crowed.

Mrs. Bumfrey rolled her eyes. “Why do you want to be Coconut Queen?” she asked the second girl.

“My mother always said I had the perfect face for a tiara,” the girl replied, winking at the judges.

Mrs. Bumfrey winced, but pressed on. One by one, she asked each girl why they deserved to be Coconut Queen. As she drifted towards Essie May, Queenie shoved herself between Susan and Essie with a glare. “Move,” she hissed, knocking Essie to the side. “I’m tired of waiting to be crowned. My victory party starts in an hour and I need a complete hair and make up change.”

Essie May’s lip twitched. It took thinking about the most hideous things she could imagine to keep from bursting out on stage.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Bumfrey finally made it to Susan. “Why do you want to be Coconut Queen?”

“I want to use my love of dance to inspire Coconut,” Susan said, smiling at the judges. “I want to take the skills I learned at Julliard and start a program for children with my scholorship money, specializing in dance therapy for children with emotional or physical therapy problems.” The audience whooped, the applause pounding in the air.

“Lovely.” Mrs. Bumfrey gave her a brief smile and moved onto Queenie. “Why do you want to be Coconut Queen?”

Queenie sucked in her breath and drew her teeth back in a grimace that should have been a smile. She yanked the microphone out of Mrs. Bumfrey’s extended hand, bellowing into it so the speakers screeched in protest. “I want to use my talent for beauty to make Coconut gorgeous. I’m talking liposuction for fat people, hair plugs, fake eyelashes. Then, we’ll start our own reality TV show to get famous. It’ll help the community,” she added, fluttering her fake lashes.

Mrs. Bumfrey didn’t say a word. The audience looked like it had eaten a bushel of prunes. She turned to Essie, her expression blank. “Why do you want to be Coconut Queen?” She handed Essie the microphone.

“To be honest,” Essie drawled into the thin silver microphone, “I didn’t.” The crowd gasped. Essie turned toward them, staring at the thousands of faces she had known since she was born. “If we’re being honest, I only did this because I wanted to make my mom happy, and I wanted the scholarship money to become a vet.” The crowd murmured appreciatively, and Essie pressed on. “Then, I wanted to do it just to beat–” she caught Queenie’s eye–”certain people. But it wasn’t until today that I realized what I was really running for.”

The crowd leaned forward, hanging on her every word. “I’m running for you,” Essie informed them, holding out her arm. “I’m running for me. I’m running for my mom, and I’m running for the Coconut Bakery. Being Coconut Queen is so much bigger than me, bigger than any of these girls on the stage. What we represent is years of history–years of love, family and hard work. The original ladies who started the bakery that made us famous–they’re the real queens. They didn’t wear pretty dresses or trot across a stage–they spent hours selling pies and coconut cakes to make life better for their family.” Essie smiled, her blue eyes shining. “And if I could be as half of a good of Queen as they were, I’d be happy. Thank you.”

With a roar, the audience leaped to his feet. As thousands of palms pounded, Mrs. Bumfrey quietly walked off stage and toward the judges table. After a quick whisper, the judges nodded. The head judged scribbed something on a slip of paper, folded it and handed it to the announcer. Waving his arms at the crowd, the announcer waited until they had quieted, returning to their seats.

Essie May held her breath for a second time that day.

“Good luck, girls,” she mummured, just as she had said an hour earlier.

“Good luck,” Susan whispered, squeezing her hand.

“Bite me,” Queenie snarled. “I’m going to be late to my victory party because your dotty boss–”

“The winner of the Coconut Queen is….Essie May Baker!” the announcer cried, pumping his fist in the air. “Essie May is the Queen of Coconut for this year!”

“What?” Queenie screeched.

“Congratulations!” Susan cried, throwing her arms around Essie.

“I knew it!” Miss Louise shouted from backstage, leaping into the air. “Wait until Myrtle hears!”

“This is ridiculous!” Queenie screamed, ripping off her wig and throwing it on the stage. Leaping up and down on it, she screeched, “This is not fair! Not fair! My father owns you people! You’re all fired! And I’m suing! You hear me–I’m suing!”

Frozen, Essie May’s wide eyes caught Mrs. Bumfrey. The older woman winked.

Before the announcer could even hand her the roses and tiara, Essie May fainted in a puddle of hot pink silk.

***

Her eyes were still stinging from the flashbulbs and her nose still burned from the smelling salts. Staring at her crystal tiara, Essie May half listened to her mother as she drove her to the bakery. She had been interviewed by the newspaper and three TV stations and hugged and kissed until her skin felt raw. The scholarship papers were carefully hidden in her handbag, the satin sash wrapped tightly around her. She looked every inch a queen.

But she didn’t feel a queen. And she couldn’t. Not until she talked to the two real queens of Coconut.

“I knew you would beat Queenie!” her mother crowed as she beat her hands against the steering wheel. “That two days of prep helped, didn’t it? I knew you were too skinny not to win! And what a great answer you gave–did your coach help you with that? And that pie! We should sell it, you know? We could make a mint…” The car pulled to a stop. “Now, only stay awhile Essie. We’ve got tons to do tomorrow–we need to plan a party to celebrate, get some head shots taken, start working on the state competition”–

“I’ll be back.” Essie’s cool voice cut through her mother’s prattling. “Excuse me.” Sliding her crown on her head, she delicately slid out of the car, her silk dress trailing over the gravel parking lot. Her mother gaped at her as she glided towards the bakery.

The door creaked open as she entered the dark bakery. “Hello?” she called. “Miss Louise? Mrs. Bumfrey? Are you here?” She glanced around the dark bakery. The glass cases sat empty, the smell of sugar and flour in the air. “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone here?” Waiting another moment, she sighed and turned to leave.

“Ja!” Freda’s voice called. “In the back! Come here!”

Picking up the hem of her dress in her fingers, Essie’s heels clicked across the tile floor. She pushed the door open to the kitchen, which was dim save for a small glowing light. “Hey Freda, I was just”– She stared in front of her, her mouth dropping open. Mrs. Bumfrey, Miss Louise, the three bakery sisters and a bouncing Myrtle sat around a ring of candles surrounding a coconut.

“Be careful,” Zelda cautioned.

“She might faint again!” Etta shrieked.

“Faint, faint, faint!” Myrtle sang, flinging pink scarfs into the air. “The Coconut Queen has fainted, is her pie tainted?”

“Did you give her sugar?” Mrs. Bumfrey muttered.

“You own a bakery,” Miss Louise countered, her eyes blue eyes sharp. “What did you expect to happen?”

“Sorry,” Essie May interrupted, holding up a quivering hand. “But what is going on?”

“We told you,” Miss Louise reminded her. “If you became Coconut Queen, you would get to learn the Secret of the Coconut Queen.”

“The dark secret,” Zelda intoned.

“Top secret,” Etta shrieked.

Myrtle was too busy inhaling a cheesecake to respond.

“I don’t understand,” Essie said, shaking her head. “I just came to thank you. How did you know I was coming?”

“We knew,” Miss Louise smirked.

“But why do I need to know the secret?” Essie asked. “Why now? I already won. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Of course you don’t need it,” Mrs. Bumfrey drawled, a smile creeping over her wrinkled cheeks. “But you want it.”

Essie bit her lip. She caught Miss Louise’s ice blue eyes and sighed. “You’re right,” she sighed. “I’m dying to know what it is.”

Mrs. Bumfrey nodded. “You see, Essie,” she said, holding up the coconut. “We couldn’t tell you the secret before you had been crowned, because only Queens of Coconut could know.”

“And only certain queens, the REAL queens, have been invited to know,” Miss Louise added. “For example, your sister doesn’t know this secret. Queenie’s sister doesn’t know this secret. Your mother doesn’t know the secret. Most of our queens don’t.”

“Who does?” Essie May asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Bumfrey twirled one finger in the air. “Everyone in this room.”

Essie May blinked. “You’re all Coconut Queens? How is that possible?” Her eyes fluttered as thoughts tumbled around her head. “And how does no one know? I mean, it’s common knowledge you two were queens, but Myrtle”–

“Yes?” Myrtle cooed, her chin smeared with cheesecake.

“Go back to…eating, dear,” Miss Louise replied, patting Myrtle on the shoulder. She drew away her hand, glanced at the chocolate staining it and wiped it discretely on a napkin. She nodded toward Mrs. Bumfrey. “Show her.”

“Show me what?” Essie demanded. The women exchanged looks and small smiles. Her heart pounded in her chest. Sweat snaked down her back, cold against her silk gown.

“You see, Essie,” Mrs. Bumsfrey drawled, cracking the coconut open like a book. The two halves, perfectly slice and preserved, had been hollowed out and drained of all meat and milk. In the center of one half lay a small vial filled with a chalky white liquid. “When the original ladies of the Coconut Bakery began to cook all those blasted coconuts, they discovered that coconut milk was great for the complexion and their overall health. They began to drink it by the buckets. It was the only thing that kept them going during the mad rush of cakes and pies when Coconut’s tale came out.”

“Well, one of the ladies knew their coconut supply was depleting, and it would be a long time before another shipment came. With a hope and a prayer, she buried a coconut in her backyard. The next day, a coconut tree had grown right next to her window.”

“So the ladies continued to make pies, cakes, cookies and sweets of all kinds, all the while drinking their coconut milk. But as the years passed, they realized that not only did the coconut milk improve their complexion and give them energy, but the coconuts from that tree in the woman’s backyard actually extended their life.”

Essie took a step back and crashed into a stove. “What are you saying?” she demanded, her chest rising up and down.

Miss Louise took the vial out of the coconut. “The coconut milk is almost like a youth elixir, Essie. One does not live forever, but one does live for a long time.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Essie argued. “People would know—people would realize…”

“There are ways, meine liebe,” Freda murmured. “Costumes, slight changes of stature or appearance…people don’t often remember what doesn’t concern them.”

“We take turns owning the bakery,” Mrs. Bumfrey added. “Change identities, become sisters and aunts of so and so…No one notices.”

Essie May shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense. So you want me to drink this magic long-life coconut juice?”

The women nodded. “You see, Essie, the woman who buried the coconut tree realized that this was dangerous,” Miss Louise drawled, shaking the vial of coconut milk. “Not everyone can handle such a gift–and responsibility. So from then on, each generation picked a new Coconut Queen to guard the secret. Only one, for each generation. The true Coconut Queens. It is the Queen’s job not only to protect the bakery, the heart of Coconut, but to preserve its secrets. Really, the pagent is just a way of finding the girl we can trust for each generation. It’s all a ruse.”

“It was the only way we could find what we wanted,” Mrs. Bumfrey added. “Grace, kindness, compassion–You see Essie, for every coconut you gave away, you showed a quality of a queen.”

“Compassion for the girl and her dog,” Miss Louise explained. “Generosity to the girl who couldn’t afford her birthday cupcakes. You were gracious to the old man, understanding with the woman who had been dumped by her husband. For every person, you gave them not only a reason to smile, but an experience they would never forget. You made them feel special, beautiful, important. For one moment, their lives were perfect. Heck, you even gave Queenie one, which shows how unselfish you are.”

“And classy,” Mrs. Bumfrey added. “I couldn’t have done that. That girl’s a witch.”

Myrtle nodded, drinking out of a bottle of chocolate syrup so it dripped down her chin with every head bob.

Essie May raised her eyes. “So this secret why you agreed to help me? And that’s why you made me go through so many tests?”

“We had to wait for your final answer,” Mrs. Bumsfield mummured, wringing her hands. “You understand, don’t you? It was the only thing you had left to prove. We knew you met our qualities, we knew you could do the work. We just had to make sure your heart was truly in the heart place–that you were ready for this responsibility. Can you imagine what would have happened if we had come to Queenie with this?”

Essie May snorted. “A plant in China would have been built to manufacture it the next day.”

“You see, Essie, as the world moves on, small towns get lost,” Miss Louise said, her ice blue eyes staring into Essie May’s soul. “We don’t want that to happen here. We want to protect what this bakery has done, what hundreds of women have worked for.”

“We’ve spent decades to make sure that hasn’t happened,” Freda added.

“Hundreds of years is more like it!” Zelda retorted.

“Thousands and thousands!” Etta screeched, spinning around.

Essie May gasped. “Freda–you–you–”

Freda bowed her head. “Yes. I was. I was the original coconut queen.”

“But–but–” Essie sputtered, looking from Mrs. Bumfrey to Freda. “Why aren’t you the president? Why don’t you run things?”

Freda helped up her wrinkled hands, her short nails gleaming in the light. “I bake, Essie. It’s what I do.” She linked arms with Miss Louise and Mrs. Bumfrey. “Together, we are all queens.”

“So what do you say, Essie May?” Miss Louise asked, holding up the vial. “Will you help us? Will you help Coconut?”

Essie May hesitated, her heart pounding. “Can I still go to college and be a vet?” she asked. The ladies nodded. “You can do, and be, whoever you want,” Miss Louise assured her. “You can travel, you can marry, you can go all over the world. Just as long as you come back for the competition every year.”

“And you get many chances,” Freda added with a wry grin.

“Many chances,” Zelda muttered.

“Dozens!” Etta shrieked.

Essie May clasped her sweaty hands together, her heart fluttering. “It’s your choice,” Mrs. Bumfrey nodded.

Burying her face in her hands for a moment, Essie untangled the thoughts in her mind. It’s everlasting life, you moron, her brain argued. But it’s a lifelong responsibility, she told herself. A duty, a obligation.

She looked at the ladies in front of her, thought about what they had sacrificed, what they had given up. She thought about the people she had given the coconut too, the smirk on Queenie’s face on stage. She thought of her mother’s smile, the judges’ drool as they ate her pie.

And if I could be as half of a good of Queen as they were, I’d be happy, she had said. How much she had changed in this two weeks. How much she had learned. How much she stood to gain.

How much she stood to lose. She didn’t want to manage a bakery, she wanted to be a vet. She wanted to leave this town, never come back. She wanted to travel, to see what the world had…

And if I could be as half of a good of Queen as they were, I’d be happy.

There was no point in fighting what she was, what she had come to be.

“Ok.” Essie May took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

Mrs. Bumfrey clapped her hands, and Miss Louise nodded. Without another word, she handed the small vial to Essie. Closing her eyes, Essie screwed off the small cap and placed the vial to her lips. Taking a deep breath, she threw back her head and sucked down the cold sweet liquid. When she opened her eyes, the other women were beaming.

“Welcome, Coconut Queen,” Miss Louise murmured, holding out her hand.

“I say this calls for pie,” Mrs. Bumfrey announced.

“Secret of Coconut Pie,” Freda grinned, pulling open the fridge and pointing to a fluffy pie waiting.

“I’ll get the forks!” Zelda screeched.

“I’ll get the plates!” Etta bellowed.

“PIE!” Myrtle sang happily.

Pulling up a chair, the six queens of Coconut, the keepers of the secret and bakers of tradition, started to slice the pie.

And for the first time, Essie felt like a true Queen.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow we have a delicious recipe and Friday, a new Twirl! Stay tuned!

Coconut Queen 17

Blond Duck — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 10:00:37 +0000

For the next two days, Essie May sweated, starved and smiled until every cell in her body quivered with hidden rage and fatigue. Her hair had been transformed into a luxurious mass of shimmering blond curls laced with pure white gold strands (courtesy of a $400 salon job that included extensions and highlights), her eyebrows sculpted into gorgeous arches, her eyes framed with thick lashes (fake) and her skin a delicate bronze (fake). Living on nothing but cottage cheese, salad, water and running 9 miles a day, she dropped more than the five pounds she had gained working at Mrs. Bumfrey’s shop. Her mother and pageant coach were thrilled. Not only did she look good in her evening gown, but she looked incredibly slender in her bikini for the swimsuit portion. Essie was exhausted and would have murdered someone for a waffle with syrup.

But finally, after 48 hours of torture, the pageant came.

The morning of the pageant, Essie rose at 4 a.m. to hop on the treadmill for some last minute exercise. Her stylist, pageant coach and a whole bunch of individuals her mother was paying to guarantee her win would be here at five. As her feet pounded the black belt, she barely noticed when her mother opened her door.

“Essie May? What are you doing?”

“Just sweating out another pound or two, Mom,” Essie replied, a bitter tone to her voice. “Go back to bed.”

“Well, don’t get your hair too sweaty,” her mother admonished. “You know it has to be somewhat dirty to look good in an updo. Not sweaty and dirty.” Essie rolled her eyes. Pausing in her door frame, her mother turned. “You know Essie, I’m really proud of you. You’ve worked hard. I know you’ll beat Queenie and make this family proud.” Smiling at her thin, beautiful daughter, Barbara Baker turned and sauntered back to bed.

She didn’t see her exhausted, hungry daughter sticking her tongue out at her back (the most un-Queen like of behavior!)

A few hours later, Essie May was backstage with a twenty three other girls who had been chosen as finalists to compete for Coconut Queen. Before the pageant had even began, judges had whittled down the competitors to the most beautiful and talented high school seniors in Coconut. Essie had grown up with all of them. Besides Queenie, serious contenders included Susan Samson, who had studied at Julliard, Emma Kelly Rodeax, who had once been in a Rascal Flatt’s music video and Alexis Bendal, who had modeled in Paris runways.

And all Essie May had was a Secret of Coconut Cream Pie and a pink sequined evening gown to compete. Chewing on her fake nails, Essie May watched from backstage as Queenie pranced across the stage in her peacock feather-trimmed evening gown.

“Nervous?”

Essie May whirled around, her face breaking into a smile. “Miss Louise! Mrs. Bumfrey! You came!”

“As we promised,” Miss Louise murmured, giving her protege a hug. She stepped back, her eyes skimming over Essie. “Mrs. Drew would be delighted. You look lovely.”

“Lovely?” Mrs. Bumfrey squawked. “She looks beautiful! Gorgeous! Stunning! Get your eyes checked, Louise!”

Trying not to giggle, Essie May glanced behind them. “Where is Mrs. Drew? Eating pie in your attic again?”

Miss Louise’s ice blue eyes twinkled. “Actually, she’s in the audience with Freda and her sisters.”

“But she keeps dozing off,” Mrs. Bumfrey added. “Apparently some of the girl’s “boring” dresses, in her words, lulls her to sleep.”

Essie snorted, trying to restrain her laughter. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” she said.

“Ready to compete?” Mrs. Bumfrey asked, glancing at Essie’s chipped nails.

“I guess,” Essie replied, hiding her hands behind her back. “You know, it’s funny. A few days ago, I couldn’t care less about this. And I still don’t care, really. Not even the scholarship excites me anymore. But now, I want to win.”

“But not for you.” Miss Louise’s ice blue eyes were staring her down like twin laser beams.

Essie May’s cheek curled in a half-grin. “No, for my mom. You should have seen her the past few days. She’s just so happy, so excited…I’d hate to let her down. I don’t even care about learning about the secret of Coconut Queen anymore. I just want to win.”

“Well, you won’t.” Mrs. Bumfrey’s voice was blunt. “If you’re doing this for someone else, they’ll see right through you. Queenie will win, your mom will be depressed and all this will be for nothing.”

“But”–Miss Louise interrupted as Essie’s face fell, “There’s an easy remedy.”

“What?” Essie May leaned forward eagerly, ignoring the curious looks from her contenders behind her as they took turns prancing across the stage.

“Remember why you wanted this,” Miss Louise drawled, her eyes hardening like steel. “Think about all the animals you could help with that scholarship. Think about the pie you baked with Freda. Think about the miles you’ve run; the Coconuts you’ve handed out. Think about the little girl with her birthday cupcakes, the little girl with the dog you let eat in the bakery.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about that”–

Miss Louise waved her hand, sweeping away the words. “The point is, Essie, you’ve been Queen of Coconut all along. You’ve just got to let them see that. And after you’ve fought so long and hard for your kingdom, why would you let a pretender to the throne take it away?”

Essie nodded. She glanced behind her as Queenie bounced off stage. Fluttering her mascara-gobbed lashes, Queenie’s garishly painted red lips simpered.

“Good luck, Essie May!” Queenie called, sweeping her blue rhinestone-studded and peacock-feather hemmed skirt around her. “May I– I mean, the best woman win!” Blowing her a kiss, Queenie cackled and clomped backstage in her obscenely high heels.

Pressing her lips together, Essie’s eyes burned with a fire Miss Louise hadn’t seen since she first walked into her attic. Turning to the two older ladies, she bowed her head. “Excuse me, ya’ll. I’ve got a pagent to win.”

And when she stepped on stage, throwing her hair back so the curls tumbled down her back in golden shimmers, her blue eyes sparkling as her pink sequined gown swished around her feet; the crowd went wild. They cried out in envy when she sauntered across the stage in her tasteful bikini (unlike Queenie’s Paris-Hilton-look alike suit) and drooled in envy as the judges devoured her entire Secret of Coconut pie. Every other contestant’s pie had been discarded, with only a bite or two taken for the rule’s sake.

“What’s in this?” one judge panted, licking his plate.

Essie May smiled coyly, fluttering her lashes. “That’s a secret.”

“Would you give my wife the recipe?” another begged.

“Or mine?” Another pleaded.

“Why, I’d be delighted,” Essie May smiled, leaning her head back for pictures. From behind the stage, she could see Queenie glowering. Essie’s smile stretched a few more centimeters towards her ears.

Finally, after all the divisions had been completed, Essie stood on stage with the other contestants. Susan Sampson, the Julliard dancer who had done a stunning rendition of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance, stood on her left. Queenie stood on her right, plastered into some ridiculous red sequined evening gown with a mermaid skirt. With her teased hair and thick rouge, she looked like a 1960s Barbie Doll that had partially melted.

“Good luck girls,” Essie mummured. “May the best girl win.”

Susan squeezed her hand. “Good luck Essie.”

“Yea, she’ll need it,” Queenie hissed, smirking at Essie. “We all know who the real Queen is.”

The announcer’s voice caught the girls attention and their heads snapped forward.

“And the winner of the Coconut Queen, the Coconut Queen for this year is….”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow we have a tasty recipe and Friday, a new Twirl! Saturday we have our lunchbox confessions! Stay tuned for more whimsical fun!

Coconut Queen 16

Blond Duck — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 10:00:54 +0000

To read previous editions of the Coconut Queen, visit the archives in the NeverEnding stories.

“Me?” Queenie breathed, her eyes glittering as she stared at the coconut. Curling her fingers in greedy claws, she snatched the coconut out of Essie’s hands. She never even noticed the shocked look on Essie’s face. “Of course,” she purred, holding the coconut above her head and gazing at it like an athlete with a trophy. “I deserve this. After all, I am the prettiest, smartest and most talented girl in town.” She patted her frizzled hair, batting her tarantula like lashes at the coconut.

Essie snorted. Snarling, Queenie whirled around and clutched the coconut to her chest. “Are you mocking me, Essie May?”

“I don’t have to mock you,” Essie replied honestly. “You’re doing a good job of making a fool of yourself.”

Queenie sniffed. “You’re just bitter because you didn’t get the coconut. You’re not Coconut Queen of the bakery, I am.”

Essie’s lips twitched. “I know. I’m the one who gave you the coconut,” she reminded Queenie.

Ugly red spots bled through Queenie’s painted cheeks. “Listen, Essie May,” she snapped, thrusting the coconut into her mock designer purse. “I know you’re jealous of me, but it needs to stop. You’ve got no chance at the crown. It’s mine. I mean, look at you!” she cackled shrilly. “You’ve gained five pounds from working in this bakery, your highlights show at least a quarter of an inch of growth, your hair is greasy and you’re not even wearing make up today!” Leaning back triumphantly, Queenie crossed her arms and raised an over plucked eyebrow. “You might as well not even walk across the stage.”

Normally, Essie May would have been sputtering in rage by this point. But during Queenie’s rant, something magical had transpired. As Queenie’s tacky red lipstick slathered lips rambled on and on and the insults grew meaner and faster, Essie found herself experiencing a wondrous new emotion.

She didn’t care.

Now, there had been plenty of times when she had pretended not to care, like when Beaux Butterton, the hottest football player at school, asked out Queenie over her for last year’s Spring Fling or when her mom threw her sister a party at the country club on her own birthday (which she had forgotten until a week later). And of course, she had pretended not to care with bad grades or when a friend blew her off.

But this time, in this moment, she honestly did not care. She saw Queenie’s sneer, heard her harsh words spewing out of her mouth. But it didn’t bother her. She didn’t care. In fact, she heard herself laughing. Queenie’s eyes widened.

“What is wrong with you?” she sputtered. Her eyes narrowed and she said slyly, “Or is it just true all fat people are jolly?”

Essie May grinned. Extending her hand, she said, “Good luck, Queenie. Enjoy being Coconut Queen. Excuse me. I’ve got other customers.”

Queenie looked at her hand as though she was offering a dead snake. Shrugging, Essie greeted the old couple standing behind Queenie. As she took their cash and boxed up their cupcakes, Queenie stood next to the register, her jaw hanging open. Staring at Essie, she sputtered, “Well, I never! I have never been treated such in my life!”

The old man next to her grinned, revealing only four yellowed teeth. “You haven’t lived very long, girlie. And compared to you, Essie is a queen.”

Essie grinned as Queenie gasped and stormed out of the restaurant. Thanking the couple, she handed them their change and their cupcakes before collapsing into giggles behind the register.

“Very nice.”

Essie whirled around to see Mrs. Bumsfield. “You saw that?” she asked.

“We all did.” Miss Louise stepped out behind Mrs. Bumsfield with a smile. “Very impressive, Essie. Even though Queenie was less than gracious, you held your cool.”

“Admirable,” Mrs. Bumsfield added, “Considering I wanted to shake the little brat.”

Essie blushed. “You know what’s funny? I just didn’t care. I know that sounds silly, but I honestly didn’t care. She just looked so ridiculous it was more amusing than anything.”

Mrs. Bumsfield and Miss Louise exchanged glances.

“She’s ready, don’t you think?” Mrs. Bumfield murmured. Miss Louise nodded.

“Ready?” Essie May asked cautiously. “Ready for what?”

“For the secret of the coconut queen,” Mrs. Bumsfield replied. “The real secret, not the pie you made.”

“Though it was quite delicious,” Miss Louise mummured.

“Indeed, it was.” Mrs. Bumsfield licked her lips, then forced her expression to become solemn again.

“Really?” Essie breathed. Her heart was dancing and singing like a Broadway Chorus in her chest. “I’ll finally get to know the secret?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Bumsfield nodded. Essie whooped and thrust her fists into the sky. “I’m so excited! I can’t wait to learn what it is! I’ve been dying of curiosity.”

“Well, you can’t learn it now,” Mrs. Bumsfield replied. “You have to wait until after the Coconut Queen competition.”

Essie deflated, staring at her with forlorn eyes. “What? Why? What’s the point of knowing the secret if I lose the competition?” She glanced at Miss Louise, who gave her a grim nod. “That doesn’t make any sense. You said you’d help me win the competition if I did everything you asked. Well, I gave away the coconuts, I came in here every morning after hours of classes the night before. I even took my finals while I was working here! And now you’re telling me I have to wait until after the competition to find out the secret of Coconut Queen?”

“I know it seems unfair, but you must understand…” Mrs. Bumsfield began.

“Seems unfair?” Essie May shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. “It is unfair! I’ve worked hard! I’ve gained weight! I’ve let my looks slide because I thought this was more important. And now I’ve got nothing except more work to do.” Shaking her head, she reached down and grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got to hit the gym and salon. My mother’s going to have a heart attack if I don’t drop this weight in two days.” Brushing past them, she rushed toward the door.

“Essie, please…” Miss Louise pleaded, reaching a hand out. “I know what it looks like, but you must understand, we’re doing this for your own good.”

“Please, dear,” Mrs. Bumsfield cooed. “We’ll explain it all in good time. Have faith in us, please. All will be revealed shortly.”

Essie paused on her way to the door. Giving them a sad smile, she shook her head. “I appreciate all you did for me. Really. But it’ll be too late.”

“Essie”– Miss Louise began.

Essie held up her hand and shook her head. “If I’ve learned anything from you Miss Louise, it’s that it’s best to do things on your own. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Pulling the door open, she turned her head. “I’ll see ya’ll at the pageant in two days.” The door slammed behind her as she hurried down the sidewalk.

With a sigh, Miss Louise and Mrs. Bumsfield looked at each other.

“We should have told her…” Miss Louise began.

“We couldn’t have, Louise,” Mrs. Bumsfield replied bitterly. “You know the rules as well as I do. Only a Coconut Queen can learn the secret of Coconut.”

“But what if Queenie beats her?” Miss Louise inquired nervously. “Or what about the Samson girl? Have you seen her dance?”

Mrs. Bumsfield nodded, her lips pursed together. “It’s out of our hands. You know that. We’ve done all we can. Now we just have to wait. Hope and wait.”

Miss Louise bit her lip and looked at her old friend. Struck by the same thought, both ladies hurried into the kitchen for some comfort of the coconut kind.

To be continued…

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow we have a delicious Tex-Mex recipe! Friday we have a new Twirl and Saturday, a new Creative Woman! Stay tuned!

Coconut Queen 15

Blond Duck — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 10:00:10 +0000

The next morning, and Essie’s mother, came far too early for her liking.

“Essie May!” her mother screeched, bursting through the door to her room and yanking the shades open with a force that twisted the cheap metal blades. “What the devil are you doing? The Coconut Queen competition is in two days! Do you know how much we have to do? We’ve got highlighting, conditioning, waxing, plucking, tanning, exfoliating, straightening, make up testing– and that’s all above your neck!”

“What time is it?” Essie croaked, rubbing her face with her hand. She stretched, yawning as she looked longingly at her pillow.

“It’s late,” her mother shrieked, yanking the covers at her. “Essie May! What have you done to yourself?”

“What are you talking about?” Essie muttered, sliding off the bed. “How late?”

“Your face!” her mother bellowed. “You’ve got bags under your eyes and creases around your mouth! Your skin is puffy! You look bloated! What have you been eating? I thought we agreed you’d do the master cleanse.”

“You agreed I’d do the master cleanse,” Essie reminded her. “And I had to test the pies and cakes to make sure they were fit for the competition. Don’t worry, mother. I’ll starve myself and be fine for the competition.” Splashing cold water on her face, she quickly scrubbed her teeth with one hand as she yanked a t-shirt and jeans out of her closet. After spitting and rinsing, she pulled on her clothes and twisted her hair in a bun. She glanced at the clock. 6:45. If she hurried, she could make it on time.

“Bye, Mom.” She grabbed her purse and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” her mother wailed. “You’ve got a eight o’clock manicure! We’ve got a whole day of beauty appointments!” She aimed an accusing finger towards her daughter. “I bet you Queenie did the master cleanse and has perfect hair and highlights.”

Essie May knew if she didn’t escape now, she would be trapped in an endless loop of her mother’s woes forever. Waving, she raced out of the house and leaped into her car. 6:48. She fired up the engine and floored it out of the driveway, blasting through the neighborhood at a speed that left old Mr. Cocker shaking his fist.

She made it to the bakery at 7:01. Racing inside, she waved to Freda.

“Hallo, mein liebe! Mrs. Bumsfrey and Miss Louise are on their way.”

“That was fast,” Essie replied, sliding behind the counter. So far, only one old man sat in the shop, nursing a cup of coffee and scone bigger than his head. “How’s the pie? Still look good?”

“Ja,” Freda replied, her voice so smug Essie giggled. “Sehr good. I’ve had to keep Zelda and Etta out of it all morning.”

“We just wanted a taste!” Zelda bellowed from the kitchen, obviously eavesdropping.

“A small smackeral!” Etta shrieked, not to be outdone. Both Essie and Freda laughed.

The bell above the door tinkled, and Mrs. Bumfrey and Miss Louise glided in. “Essie, Freda,” Mrs. Bumfrey greeted them with a smile, bowing her head. “How are you?”

“Well, my feet ache and my back cracks, but other than that, sehr good,” Freda replied, beaming.

“Ya’ll ready to see the pie?” Essie asked, unable to keep the thick drawl or excitment out of her voice.

“We’ve been looking forward to it,” Miss Louise replied, taking Essie’s arm. “Freda said you were up all night working on it?”

Essie nodded. “Freda is brilliant, really. She just created all these pies off the top of her head, without a recipe or anything. And we just took our time, taking one part and mixing it with another.”

Miss Louise smiled. “It sounds perfect.”

“I hope so.” Essie’s voice cracked with anxiety, and Miss Louise patted her arm.

Inside the kitchen, the women gathered around the pie.

“Ladies, this is the Secret of Coconut Pie,” Freda informed them as Essie cut two thin slices and set them gently on plates. She handed them to Miss Louise and Mrs. Bumfrey, who picked up their forks. In unison, they cut through the pie and raised it to their mouths. Essie clutched her hands together, watching as each took a bite. Miss Louise’s eyes closed and she sank back on her stool. Mrs. Bumfrey swallowed and immediately took another bite, rapidly devouring the pie as though it would disappear into the air.

“So do you like it?” Essie asked as both women finished their first piece and reached for the knife.

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Bumfrey replied, cutting a wedge the size of Essie’s face and dumping it on her plate.

“Very much,” Miss Louise answered, cutting two thick slices and putting them on her plate. “One is for Myrtle,” she lied, looking at their faces.

“What’s in this?” Mrs. Bumfrey asked, shoveling half a piece of pie into her mouth.

“Caramel, coconut, pecans, chocolate, peanut butter, whipped cream…” Freda trailed off. “Basically, it’s got everything in it.”

“But the secret is roasted coconut and pecans, right?” Essie asked, looking up at Freda.

“Right.” Freda nodded.

Mrs. Bumfrey closed her eyes in bliss after biting off another large chunk of pie. She had abandoned her fork and was now eating the pie like a slice of pizza. “You know, Essie,” she drawled. “And correct me if I’m wrong, Miss Louise, but I think you’ve grown a lot these past few days. And not just as a baker. I think you’ve got a really good shot at the crown. And if you give away that last coconut and we’re able to share the real secret of the Coconut Queen with you, I know you’ll win.”

Miss Louise nodded her agreement. “You deserve the crown, Essie.”

“Thanks,” Essie murmured, her cheeks burning. Reaching into her purse, she brought out the last coconut. “Miss Louise, would you accept this? You’ve been so good to me, so helpful…I’d like you to have it.”

Mrs. Bumfrey raised her eyebrows and Freda smiled proudly. Zelda huffed into her pie dough and Etta stamped her foot. “That’s not fair!” she shouted. “We’ve helped too!”

Miss Louise shook her head, refusing to take the coconut in Essie’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, Essie, but I can’t,” she replied, pushing the coconut away softly. “That coconut is not meant for me.”

“Then who is it meant for?” Essie May asked. Frustration curled inside her like a tensed scorpion and it was all she could do not to scream. “You’re the only one I could think of who deserved it.”

“Hello!” Zelda cried. “Over here!”

“Give me the coconut!” Etta screeched.

“No me!” Zelda bellowed.

Balancing the pie plate on her knees as she devoured it, Mrs. Bumfrey patted Essie’s shoulder. Tufts of coconut were now smeared across Essie’s shirt. “Don’t worry, dear. Miss Louise is right. The final coconut is not for her.”

“Why don’t you try watching out front,” Miss Louise suggested as she snuck a bite of “Myrtle’s” piece. “I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bumfrey agreed, chocolate and coconut smeared around her mouth. “We’ll just finish tasting your pie. For constructive criticism, you know.”

Freda snickered. Shrugging, Essie slid off her stool and waltzed back into the kitchen. Setting her bag on the floor, she bent down to arrange some display pieces.

“Why Essie May!” The voice set her teeth on edge. She was too tired to deal with this now.

“What do you want, Queenie?” she asked without looking up.

Even from the display case, she could hear Queenie gasp and pout. “Why, I just wanted to say good luck on the compeititon, that’s all.”

Rolling her eyes, Essie stood and faced her sworn enemy. The second their eyes met, it was all she could do not to stare.

Queenie’s normally perfect hair looked plastic, almost like a Barbie wig had been planted on her head. Her lashes were coated with so much mascara they stuck together in heavy clumps and her eyebrows had been plucked almost bare. Her normally lush lips were flat and colorless, her cheeks painted with an unflattering rouge.

Essie May resisted the urge to shout with glee. “Did you get a makeover?” she asked.

Queenie preened, patting her plastic hair. “He’s a stylist from Hollywood. He’s worked with Britney and Paris. Don’t I look gorgeous?”

“Stunning,” Essie May replied honestly.

Queenie fluttered the black clumps over her eyes. “Of course I’m gorgeous! Only the best, Daddy says. Why, he almost spent my entire college savings on this stylist!”

Essie May choked back a gasp. “Why?”

Queenie gave her a scorning look. “Well, when I win the competition, it won’t matter. Duh. I’ll get a scholarship.” Cracking open her coin purse, she looked expectantly at Essie. “I just had the coconut milk. Watching my figure, you know. How much?”

Essie May looked at the register, then at Queenie’s drawn and ghastly face. She heard Miss Louise’s laughter in the kitchen and sighed. Leaning down, she pulled out the coconut from her bag. Stretching out her arm, she held it out to a shocked Queenie.

“Queenie, would you like to be today’s coconut queen?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow we have a delicious new pie and Friday, a new Twirl! Then Saturday we’ve got a new critter confessions following a week of whimsical fun! Stay tuned!