Sarah Arceus
Phoenix, Arizona
I had to jumble from point A to point B and dance around in the maze of ingredients in the storage. Business was very hectic in Phoenix and Pops had too much on his hands to even make deliveries. I myself did most of the work between baking and delivering, wearing the family red bandanna on my head like a gangster and my hair in a tight braid. It brightens my father's day to see my hair in a braid. He always said it brings out my mother in me, but I wasn't sure what he meant by that. All I could remember of my childhood was my foster mother trying every two weeks of my life to destroy me. She never wanted me, but my foster father was relunctant to listen to her and took me in anyway.
My first delivery was from my next-door neighbor's house. I knocked on the door and was greeted by Mr. Celebi, one of my birth mother's childhood friends. I said calmly, "Hello, sir. I have two loaves of bananna bread, a batch of apple turnovers, and a Dutch apple pie for you. Just as you ordered, right?"
Mr. Celebi smiled and said, "Good morning to you too, Sarah. You got the order right on the money, as always. Just what the doctor ordered." He took the basket from my offering hands and gave me twenty dollars in cash. "How's your father, Sarah? By the looks of the bakery, he must be going over his head."
I said, "You got it, sir. Pops has been buzzing around like you wouldn't believe. Pies here, bread there, pastries everywhere else- business is booming like World War Three." I looked over Mr. Celebi's bulky build. "Where's Zen?"
Mr. Celebi shrugged his shoulders and said, "Judging by his behavior ever since your father hired him, I don't have a clue where Zenkile is. I thought he was in the bakery with you."
I mumured, "Oh, Zen. Here we go again."
