Under the Mango Tree: 101 Tales (5)

NOSTRADAMUS

Challenge No. 89 - Food + Magical Realism.

Write a scene or story that incorporates one of the following elements:

1. A plate of nachos that talks;

2. A bowl of ravioli that grants wishes; or

3. A pie that can tell the future with its filling.

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Saturdays were baking days at the Alphonse house and Tara had positioned herself to first lick the bowl and second to get the first slice, she was about to find out that the pie had other ideas. Mum usually used what was in season and today it was five-fingers.

Tara could barely contain herself. "Is it ready yet?"

"No," Mum said.

"No! When!"

"When it's ready. Tara, we go through this every weekend. Go play. Come back later."

But when the whole CDC apartment smelt of carambola pie it was very difficult to 'go play'.

It was difficult to 'go play' because the public apartment complex built in the 1950s to house the folks made homeless by the Great Castries Fire of 1948 was located in the heart of the City. Zooming traffic, parked buses and enterprising street vendors was not the environment in which to 'go play'.

It was difficult to 'go play' when the whole place smelt so deliciously of pie!

But eventually, the pie was ready and so was Tara. Mum cut a slice for her.

"Ow!" A voice said.

Tara looked around. It was only mum and herself in the kitchen. She shrugged it off. It was her imagination. She prepared to shove the spoon into the pie and plunge it into her mouth.

"Don't touch me." The voice warned.

"Mum, you talking to me?"

"I haven't said a word child. You harassed me all morning for that pie and now you just looking at it." Mum continued at the sink.

"Hmmm." Tara returned to the pie.

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Tara's spoon hit the table with a clang. Her mother turned. "What's wrong with you!" She spied the pie. "What's wrong with the pie?!"

"Nothing!" Was Tara's answer to both questions.

"Well, if after all that l, you're not going to eat the pie, then give it back." Mum reached for the saucer and spoon.

"NO!" Both Tara and the pie objected.

"Let's go to your room."

"I'll take it to my room."

"Alright... Don't get any on the bed though."

"I won't."

In her room, Tara eyed the pie.

"How come I can hear you?" Tara addressed the pie and felt quite silly doing so. "Do you have a name?"

"I do. I am called Nostradamus."

"Why?"

"Because I am the pie of the future." He announced with great pomp.

"HUH?"

"I can tell the future."

"You cannot!"

"Try me!"

"When will the drought end?"

"In two months from now."

"That's too far. I need a closer one."

"This afternoon is the finals of the T-20 Cricket World finals. West Indies will win by six wickets. In ten minutes, your mum will get an unexpected call for a job interview and your Auntie D.J. will have to come to stay with you."

"Will I be rich?"

"No."

"Oh!"

"There are more important things."

"Like what?"

"You'll be happy. You'll love and be loved."

"I wanted to be rich."

"Don't we all?"

© 28 May 2022