By: Salena Braye-Bulls (’23), Staff Writer
“It’s too early to play “This Christmas”, mom.”
“Too early for Donny Hathaway? Ain’t no such thing! And you know I don’t play that Chris Brown version!”
Faith slumped down further into the passenger seat of her mom’s 2014 Toyota Camry. They were on their way to her grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving but it still didn’t feel like the holiday season yet.
Fall had been alarmingly warm thus far and she had been hearing heaps about climate change after her brother D.J. made a climate change project for his 7th grade earth science class. He went down to Montgomery to be with their dad’s family while she and her mother stayed in Birmingham.
Faith wished that her parents could coexist together for Thanksgiving, but she knew it wasn’t in the cards. And unfortunately for her, she didn’t like what was in the cards.
She looked forward to seeing her grandparents, but as she got older, she felt weird being treated like such a child. In her mind, the kid’s table was no place for her and her 16-year-old wisdom. She knew she shouldn’t be all up in grown folks’ business but what was she supposed to talk to her baby cousin Frankie about?
Plus, her aunts and uncles (both real and fake) always asked her about her upcoming college plans and she never knew what to say.
This Thanksgiving, she just wanted to eat her yeast rolls in peace.
She and her mother arrived at her grandparents’ house and judging by the way the yard was converted into a full-fledged parking lot, she knew everyone was already there.
Her grandmother had whipped out her most autumnal of wreaths and hordes of other festive decorations for her home. She even hung a red bow on her special wooden spoon that hung above the stove and was never used by anyone other than her grandmother. Everyone always joked that she was the only person who could handle its flavor magic. When Faith walked in, she could feel that magic in the air. She smelled cinnamon, nutmeg, and butter. If she hadn’t come here every year of her life, she might have had sensory overload, but in that moment, it was incredibly comforting.
Her mom made her way into the slight crowd of people in the living room and did a couple rounds of “Hey! How y’all been?” and “Long time, no see!”. She definitely saw all of these people 3 weeks ago at their church’s chili night, but Faith figured it’s the thought that counts.
Faith met her grandmother with a hug, and her grandpa gave her a pat on the back – she wasn’t slighted – it was just how he rolled.
“We are just so happy to see you! I made you your favorite sweet potato pie!” her grandmother said as she beamed at Faith and pulled her sweater to minimize any unnecessary shoulder exposure and ushered her to the nearby couches where her cousins were also sitting.
After Faith greeted everybody in the immediate vicinity, she sat down with them, and her earlier feelings of comfort started to dissipate into annoyance.
As anticipated, her baby cousin Frankie was there, but so were his siblings Anna, Brandon, Cameron, Dani, and Elijah. While Faith was saying hello to them, she remembered how she desperately wished Aunt Jackie and Uncle Willie would’ve had literally any other baby name inspiration. Their baptisms were an unfortunate tongue-twisting event, and Pastor Wayne could barely keep up.
They were varying ages, but they might’ve well have been sextuplets to Faith. They were all doing viral dances and over-priced t-shirts that she couldn’t care less about. There were only so many times that she could watch Cameron trip over his shoelaces doing a kitschy dance move before she remembered why family gatherings tired her out so much. When they weren’t breaking their legs, her aunts and uncles were always yelling questions at her about her life.
“Where are you applying to school? I see you as a Howard woman for sure!”
“How many burgers are you flipping per day down there at Sonic?”
“You running around with Jamar? I know y’all were Coretta and Martin back at in that 3rd grade Black history program!”
In any case, it was a lot. It all reached a hilt when they were eating dinner. A fine spread of turkey, ham, greens (collard, mustard and turnip), macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes lavishly adorned the kitchen counters. Faith tried to focus on the immaculate plate of food in front of her, but she was snapped out of her cornbread induced trance as she overheard Cameron and Dani whispering about why her dad was missing from this event.
She couldn’t really parse it out, but she was able to pick out key words like “trifling man” and “deadbeat”. She knew that they likely did not even know what those words really meant, but it ratcheted up her frustration to new heights.
Her older relatives were doing the absolute most, her younger relatives were annoyingly repeating things they likely heard from their mother, and her brother wasn’t even there. She wished that this Thanksgiving was like the ones they celebrated when she was younger. With both of her parents. When she was the only grandchild. When she had more alone time with her grandparents.
Faith became overwhelmed and practically jumped out of her folded metal chair that was exclusively reserved for the kids’ table (it hurt the adults’ backs too much) and walked out of the dining room, past the living room, and into the back part of the kitchen.
In the midst of all of the fun and raucous laughter, no one really noticed she was gone. She was thankful that she managed to slip away undetected because it meant she had a couple of minutes to breathe and hear her own thoughts. She knew she might have been being a bit too dramatic, but the kitchen corner next to the overflow freezer was way less frenetic than the dining room.
She was so irritated with her family, and she didn’t know why they were always so much. Why couldn’t they just calm down? And be just a bit quieter? She thought about how her friend Susan probably wasn’t hiding from questions about her former Black history month program crushes in a kitchen with a popcorn ceiling. Faith immediately remembered that Susan was actually white and definitely lacked any character-building Black history month programs– for better or worse.
As she loitered in the kitchen, she noticed that her grandma had left a sweet potato pie on the counter to thaw. This was Faith’s personal pie! Before her escape from dinner, its buttery crust and perfect sweet potato filling were the only thing pulling her through. Now, she was about to cash in on her patience.
Faith quickly realized that she had a bit of a problem. All of the clean silverware was being used in the dining room, and she couldn’t unload the dishwasher without making a clatter. So, against all known tradition, she walked away from the corner she’d been standing in to reach up and grab her grandmother’s treasured wooden spoon over the stove.
She barely dipped the spoon into the dish to fish out a piece when wham!
A sudden gust of wind immersed her and she was blinded by a flurry of twinkling lights! She felt like she was at the state fair on one of those rides that pulls and pushes riders in every imaginable direction. She tried to yell “What’s happening?” aloud but her words were caught in her chest. She closed her eyes to make it all stop – or at least get some clarity about what was going on – but when she opened her eyes again, she was different.
Actually, she was beyond different. When she looked around, her perspective was completely different. Instead of looking straight ahead like she normally would, her vision was tilted mostly upward – like her eyes were on top of a surface rather than on her face. She could make out things in her peripheral vision, but her new angle of sight was very jarring. Second, everything was absolutely massive. The spoon next to her right looked like it was the length of a football field, and when she looked right in front of her, it seemed like she was on the top of Mount Everest. She realized that she wasn’t on a mountain, but the kitchen counter instead. She felt wider, smaller and more gelatinous. When she darted her eyes to her lower left, she saw see orange filling where her limbs should’ve been. She knew what had happened. She had become that piece of sweet potato pie.
As most people would, Faith freaked out. How is this even possible? Her mother always told her that “you are what you eat,” but this wasn’t adding up. She was scared, bewildered and simply confused. She tried to cry out, but pies don’t have vocal cords, and her words remained caught in her chest. She wanted to cry, but pies also don’t have tear ducts, so she could not even panic like she wanted to. Perhaps worst of all, as a piece of pie, she didn’t have any appendages so she was truly stuck there.
Her grandmother’s wooden spoon took up the entirety of her outer vision and the surreal reality of the situation set in. She didn’t know how to change back into her human form, and if she couldn’t figure out how to communicate that she’d been changed into a luxurious dessert, she was a goner. In her very warped, minimal sense of hearing, she could hear someone coming and she worried dinner had ended. As a pie, all sound was distorted and echo-like because of her small size. It was about to be time for dessert, and she was on the menu.
Her worst fear was coming true. She heard a loud stomping noise, and it felt like the counter was shaking. Uncle Willie entered the kitchen, and she watched his massive figure loom as he reached down to take her to the dining room. She felt herself being lifted up and wobbling with each of his steps. Once he brought her into the dining room, she saw her family members and each of their hungry smiles. They exclaimed as they saw the pie and everyone stood around the serving table in anticipation.
This was it. She was really about to be served up on paper plates to her family on Thanksgiving Day. She knew she was about to face an ultimate end. Before this, she was looking towards the pie’s buttery crust to bring her mood up, not tear her life down. Her buttery crust was going to be her downfall.
Sure, her family was annoying and she felt like she was going to explode earlier. Now, she now yearned to be back with them as they all laughed, made fun of each other and ate desserts that weren’t her!
She watched her Uncle grab a knife off of the table and dangle hold it above her. He was about to cut the first slice, but then, everything changed.
“Hold on, where’s Faith? I made this pie for her. She ought to get the first slice!” her grandma said as she pushed Uncle Willie’s hand away from the pie dish.
“She probably went away somewhere being weird,” Anna said. Cameron and Dani snickered with her.
“Yeah, Lucy. You know your child is always wandering around somewhere. Seems like she’s kinda anti-social, especially after what after everything you’ve put her through recently,” Aunt Tammy said to Faith’s mother.
Faith’s mother put her own fork down and was ready to say something very unthankful when grandma snapped them all out of it.
“Hush all that! I won’t have any of y’all talking like that about her or what’s been going on lately! Faith is a sweet girl and has been rightfully overwhelmed by everyone’s questions and comments.” She made sure to cut her eyes at Tammy and her children.
“I’m sure she’s feelin’ a lot of pressure these days, and who wouldn’t be? Now, I made this pie for her, and I want her to enjoy it first. It’s the little things that count and we gotta be thankful for each other – her included.”
Everyone gave a resounding nod, and Faith felt her little pie heart swell up with emotion. She was so touched by her grandmother’s speech and watching her stop her relatives’ shady comments was beyond affirming.
Faith regretted anxiously running away and separating herself from her family during one of the only times they could all be together. Her frustration was valid, but she truly loved them and wanted to cherish their relationships together.
She pleaded with the universe for a chance to spend more time with them all and avoid her impending delicious demise. She realized what she would be missing out on and she wanted it all to change.
“Elijah, go knock on the bathroom doors and see if she’s in there. Willie, put that down. I’m gonna go get my spoon to dig into this pie while we wait for her,” her grandmother proclaimed as she made her way to the kitchen and picked up her magical spoon.
It was coming down to the wire for Faith. In her mind, she repeated a mantra about loving her family, their company, and who they had raised her to be.
She watched her grandmother’s hand lower the wooden utensil, about to literally dig into her. She winced and closed her eyes.
The spoon just barely touched her and everything changed.
In an instant, she felt the eerily familiar wind gust she experienced earlier and her entire body felt warm. After a few seconds, the whirlwind stopped. Immediately, she realized she didn’t feel as flat, small and pie-like. She opened her eyes and she was back in the part of the kitchen she had been in earlier, still standing in front of the stove. She looked at her hands and feet to make sure she was indeed a person again, and she pinched herself just in case. She was normal again. She started to take a minute to piece things together but her thoughts were soon interrupted.
“There you are! We’ve been looking for you! Grandma is about to cut the pie and I called dibs on your slice already,” Elijah said.
Typically, Faith would’ve replied with a snarky attitude but she hugged him instead. Then, she practically ran past him to get to the dining room where her grandmother was waiting with the first piece of pie on a paper plate just for her. Faith smiled so wide that her cheeks hurt, and she gladly took the plate. She wanted to ask everyone questions and tell them about what she had just experienced, but she figured that could come later.
At that moment, she focused on her family, their riffs at each other, the fantastic pie before her, and her grandmother’s kindness. The rest of the evening went well. She said on the couch with everyone else and laughed with her cousins.
Eventually, it was time to go and she made sure to embrace all of her aunts and dap up all of her uncles. On her way out, she saw her grandmother’s spoon back above the stove with its ribbon, of course.
She stared incredibly hard at it for a second, and then her gaze softened. She knew it was the mystical factor that caused her wacky experience, but she was more grateful for what it taught her than concerned with how it operated. In an extremely strange way, its magic – flavor or otherwise – reminded her of the magic of family.
As Faith sat back again in her mother’s passenger seat with a to-go plate of pie in her lap, she finally felt like it was the holiday season.
She took her phone out, connected it to the car speakers and turned on “This Christmas”. Naturally, she played Donny Hathaway’s original version.
