Bert’s Little Piece of Bread

I haven’t decided the ending for this story yet.
I’m going to write whatever comes into my mind…

December 31^st, 1999

He tossed and turned in his bed. Time seemed to go so slow all of a sudden. Just when you wanted something to happen. Little Bert looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight. His heart was pounding with excitement, the prospect of becoming a year older in just a minute or two, seemed too good to be true.

He sat up, and looked at the wall clock. It was too dark to see the time. He checked his watch again. Half a minute left. The rest of the boys at the orphanage were quietly sleeping. The corridor outside, was extremely quiet, not a single sound, nor a footstep was heard. Bert could see the slightly soft and plump body of the kitten that roamed the grounds of the orphanage, illuminated by the slice of moonlight coming through the gap in the curtains.

The display on his watch now showed the very thing he’d wanted all week. A solid 00:00. Twelve midnight. It was the first of January, it was the beginning of a new year for him, as well as the rest of the world. ‘Happy Birthday, Bert’, he whispered to himself.

He felt like he could squeal in happiness, and he seemed to have enough energy to run across the grounds a hundred times.

He wondered how he could celebrate this miracle, and without thinking, he tiptoed out of the dormitory, not caring to close the door behind him. Little Bert walked across the corridor, and went straight into the kitchens. The door was ajar for some reason, but Bert didn’t seem to care. He had just decided to celebrate his joy with a piece of cake from the fridge.

He walked towards the refrigerator door, grabbed the handle, and yanked the door open, with dramatic force. ‘Uh-oh’, he said. A number of items came tumbling down, including a carton of glass bottles with milk, a plate of uncooked dough, a Mr.Marshall’s Mushroom Pizza carton and crashed into the floor. The milk started flowing like an enormous river and went into the carpet covered corridor.

And that’s when Bert realized he was in deep trouble.

He had no idea what to do, everything was a mess. Bert picked up the pizza carton and threw it back into the fridge.

He found a broomstick behind the door and tried sweeping the milk back into the bottles. The nurse, whose room was a floor above, might have heard the sounds. He knew there were no adults in this corridor.

Or at least he thought so.

***

Little Bert worked as fast as he could, but unfortunately had a very difficult time cleaning up. There was something oozing out of the bread dough, and he decided to go for that last. The broken milk bottles, had caused the floors to get stained, and little glass shards had scattered everywhere, causing poor Bert to get scratched twice in the same place.

Surprisingly, nobody had come, and after a point, Bert became a bit more relaxed. The milk stains on the corridor’s carpet floor weren’t visible after scrubbing for half an hour, and he had successfully managed to sweep up the broken bottle pieces.

It was now time for the bread dough.

The uncooked bread dough, if I didn’t mention before, looked a bit stale, but on the bright side, had a couple of Tutti fruttis poking out of it. ‘At least it looks a bit colorful’, thought Bert. ‘Urgh’, he said. He grimaced, as he picked up the floppy thing. It was also rather oily, and the moment he started walking, it started sloping down, and flopped onto the floor. The dough’s plate seemed to have disappeared somewhere. Bert tried again, and this time, he tried to hold it from all sides, with both his hands. Bert successfully got hold of it, and walked towards the fridge door. He somehow managed to open the door with his foot and was about to keep the disgusting dough inside. And that’s when something odd happened.

He felt a little vibration – coming from the dough. It started giving out a low humming sound, and the Tutti fruttis started glowing. Bert had no idea what was happening, as he watched it in suspense. It was quite mesmerizing.

The oily bread dough, slipped once more from his hands, and fell onto the marble tiled floor. Bert bent down, and tried picking it up. ‘Oh my!’ he said. Bert tried his best to stay calm, for this was a situation nobody would like to be in. He was terrified of the dough now. It started humming louder and louder, and the Tutti fruttis glowed even brighter.

‘Device activated,’ a voice said.

Bert froze.

This was definitely a dream.

How could a stale bread dough speak?

Bert closed his eyes, praying to God that none of this was real. He knew he couldn’t just leave, leave a talking piece of food on the loose. He decided to try picking it up once more, keep it back in the fridge, clean the oil stains and get out from the kitchen.

He slowly bent down and gave the thing a little touch.

‘State the purpose of activation, please’, the dough spoke again.

Bert fell back in fright, and hit his head on the fridge door.

Ouch, that hurt.

Rubbing his head, he sat there, clueless as to what to do. This was a bit too much for a nine-year old to cope with.

The dough repeated itself once more. ‘State the purpose of activation, please.’

The first word that came to Bert’s mind was –

‘Uh’, he said.

The dough gave a little wobble. ‘Help will be sent soon. Please try remaining in your current position for the next three seconds.’

Bert stared at it, and had no time to think about the fact that he could just get up and leave, for, in three seconds, a mysterious thing happened.

The dough-device glowed bright suddenly, and Bert was sucked into a hole in the middle of the dough, which he hadn’t seen before.

***

Meanwhile, far away, in a distant time, twenty-one years into the future to be precise, a young girl by the name of Emily Brown was watching television.

January 1^st 2021

Emily was browsing through the channels, not quite sure as to what she should watch. All the boring stuff was on today. Ma and Pa and gone out shopping, and had told her to take care of their old dog, Charlie.

She was absolutely bored and had nothing to do. She didn’t feel like getting up and picking up a book, nor did she feel like watching random stuff on her iPhone. Fifteen-year-old Emily was just about to go to her bedroom and take a nap when the doorbell rang.

‘A fruit cake for Emily Brown’, said the man outside. He was wearing a Zomato shirt.

Surprised, Emily took the package.

‘How much should I pay?’

‘Oh, it’s already been paid for, madam.’

‘Oh… by whom, if I may ask?’

The man opened a register from his bag. He muttered something and traced his finger along the lines.

‘Emily Brown… your order has been paid for by John Roger. Thank you and have a nice day!’

Emily closed the door behind him. She wondered who this John fellow was. If he had bothered to buy a fruit cake for her, he should have known that she wasn’t a great fan of fruits.

She opened the box and inside was a large blob of cake. This cake was unlike any she had ever seen. And there wasn’t really any fruit in it, just a couple of Tutti Fruttis poking out here and there. She touched it, out of sheer curiosity.

‘Aaaaaaaaaa!’ she screamed. A large hole had opened in the middle of the cake blob and Emily was sucked into it. She fell headfirst inside, screaming.