Birthday Cake
He had been saving the box of cake mix, keeping it hidden in a box high on a closet shelf. The front of the box proclaimed the flavor: "Birthday Cake."
It was a vanilla cake mix that included a packet of multicolored "funfetti" sprinkles.
It had been a long time since there had been anything to look forward to. Sometimes he thought he might be more enthusiastic about his daughter’s birthday then she was.
He’d saved a box of birthday cake mix and had found a Zarbie doll still unopened in a barely damaged box. None of it was on par with the birthday he would have given his child in normal times–the times Before–but it was more than most others could manage now.
There were no eggs, but he’d found an unexpired canister of chia seeds and knew they could be soaked in water and used as an egg substitute. He wasn’t sure how it was going to taste, but he had high hopes.
There was no frosting, but he didn’t think his daughter would care. It had been a long time since either of them had had cake.
He laid in bed until the sun shining through the windows started brightening the house around him. Then he leapt out of bed, hurriedly dressed and washed himself, then made his way to the kitchen to start his cake making journey.
In the best of times, he had never been a baker. His wife had occasionally made cookies or muffins from readymade mixes, but for the most part they’d always purchased their baked goods from either the grocery store or the little bakery that made the delicious maple donut bars.
Here he was, 38-years old, making a cake for the first time in his life.
He’d done a lot of things for the first time since the economy collapsed. He’d started mending clothes. He’d given up his gas powered car for a pedal powered bicycle. He’d gotten into arguments with people attempting to cut the line at the grocery store. He’d become a widower.
This past year and a half had been filled with many firsts. Most of them unpleasant.
If he could have gone back in time and changed everything, he would have. No hesitation. Even if it meant he died, as long as his daughter and his wife could be alive and happy.
But here he was. Making a cake for his daughter’s birthday.
He built up the fire in the cookstove and greased the Dutch oven, once again regretting the lack of electricity. Ever since the power grids went down, they’d had to make due with two solar panels and a single battery. It was enough to run a few lights, the heater, and the mini-fridge. There wasn’t enough power to run the stove too. They washed their clothes once a week in a tub in the backyard.
Life had gotten harder than he’d ever imagined it could be. But he was grateful everyday that his daughter was alive and well.
His wife had sickened and died from a bad case of what might have been norovirus, but at least he and his daughter had survived. He hated imagining what might have happened if both he and his wife had died, as their daughter was too young to live alone.
He opened the cake mix box and tore open the plastic bag inside. He breathed in the sweet vanilla scent and pushed away all his doubts and fears and worries for the future.
Today was his daughter’s birthday, and he was making her a Birthday Cake flavored cake. They were going to have a happy day today. He was going to see her smile and he would give her a good childhood memory to hold onto.
As soon as he figured out how much chia seeds he was supposed to add to how much water to equal three eggs.
=END=
~Harper Kingsley
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