The Chocolate Cupcake PART

Last month we left Albert, the elderly museum guard, standing in the woods with his head against a birch tree. In his simplicity, he was testing the idea that doing so would grow hair on his head.

As he stood there a bluejay flew down out of that very tree and landed on Albert’s bald spot and pecked him with her beak right in the middle of his head, making a small hole, in which a spot of blood appeared.

Albert shook violently and felt moved to the depths of the essence that is his soul, and he said to himself, “This has nothing to do with hair or bald spots, but something to do with magic, and magical things.” And as if in response to this thought, thousands of crows began to crow all around, and then all of them, like one living thing, flew up into the sky in a big black cloud and flew away, cawing and cawing, into the distance. Albert staggered home, more dead than alive.

He opened the door to his cottage, and went inside, and his wife, whose name by the way was Bertha, said to him, “And how did Sarah like her cupcake then?”

When Albert’s wife asked him about Sarah’s cupcake, he did not answer her right away, because he had to lie about it, and everybody knows it always takes a moment to make up a lie, especially when you are not expecting it. So when Albert didn’t answer right away, she knew that the selfish old man had eaten Sarah’s cupcake, which she had made specially for her, because she had grown fond of the saucy child, and thought she was a good influence on her grumpy husband. Finally, Albert said, “Oh, she loved the cupcake very much and hopes you might make her another.” Hearing this obvious falsehood, Bertha stopped washing the dishes, sighed to herself, and then resumed her work. And so Albert saw that his lie was found out, but nevertheless his wife did not bother to criticize him, because she thought to herself, “What’s the use?”

The very next day Albert opened his lunch pail just a few minutes before ten, so that he could gobble up Sarah’s cupcake without her knowing about it, but he discovered that his wife had played a trick on him. Sarah’s cupcake had an S on the top of it, in frosting, and his had an A on it. His first impulse was to gobble up the S cupcake right away, but he thought to himself three things. One, he had lied about the cupcake. Two, his wife knew he lied, and although she said nothing she had marked this one with an S on purpose. And three, he felt ashamed of himself, not because he lied, but because his wife did not scold him. He looked down into his lunch pail and said to himself, “Oh dear me, apparently she thinks I am just a hopeless case.”

Just then, Sarah came up beside him and said, “So, it looks like I am going to get to eat my cupcake myself today. From then on, at ten o’clock, the two of them ate their cupcakes together every day, and Sarah brought the milk in a jug from her farm. The cupcake hour became a time when they talked about various things, because Albert had never gone to any school, and did not even know how to read. But Sarah, because of her hours spent in the queen’s library, was becoming highly educated in her own way. She would sit next to Albert and explain the world to him, but she was devilish and could never avoid the temptation to tell him outlandish, untrue things, just to test his incredulity, until at times he would cry out, “Now stop it Sarah! What do you take me for, an ignoramus?”

Meanwhile, some very strange things began to happen. First of all, the bluejay that had landed on Albert’s head began following him to work in the morning. At first it did not seem possible, and he assumed that it had to be a different bird each time. But finally, when it began to land on the museum window ledge in the very room Albert had to guard, he could see that he had acquired a pet bird that insisted on following him around. That was not the only odd thing. The guard in the museum room next to Albert’s began to listen in on their conversations. And the more he listened, the more upset he became, because he felt that their words - especially Sarah’s - showed a kind of disrespect of the museum and its collection, particularly when she made fun of and changed the words of the tags on the paintings. He was so upset about it that he almost complained to the king himself.

This other guard, whose name was Max, was not the only one unhappy with things in the museum. Poor Rex, whom we have hardly even mentioned, became jealous of Albert, and would sometimes even bark at him, because he missed all the attention he used to get from Sarah. Sarah would often sit on the floor with Rex and talk to him at length about what a wonderful dog he was, and how he was perfect and “just like Plato’s ideal, a perfect dog.” But Sarah found a simple solution one day that solved everything. She opened the window and let the bluejay into the room. The bluejay instantly flew over to Albert, pecked his head three times, and then immediately made friends with Rex, who welcomed this new playmate with open paws.

Now, while Sarah and Albert engaged in their interesting conversations, the bird and the dog would engage in various antics. I know it is probably difficult to believe that a dog and a bird might engage in the games these two engaged in, but you will simply have to believe me, and I will give you some examples. Sarah named the bird Toot, and Toot loved to ride around the museum on Rex’s back, as if Rex was a horse. To make him run faster, she would gently peck at his head, and to make him slow down, she poked him twice with her claw. To make him stop, she would hop up and down. That does not sound so unbelievable, but would you believe me when I tell you that they would pretend to fight? Toot would attack Rex, flying around him in circles and pecking him, and Rex would pretend to be afraid of the little bird.

Albert was constantly asking questions about the royal court. He wanted to know what kind of meals they had, and about their cakes and pastries. “What kind of coats and pants does the king wear, and is he fat or is he thin?” he might ask, and Sarah, who often had supper with the royal couple and even sat in on important meetings, would answer all his questions. These questions of Albert’s are not surprising, because it is an absolute fact that in a monarchy, the common people are fascinated with the habits and goings on of the king and the queen, and even of the members of the court. It is a thing very similar to our society, where ordinary people always want to know what famous people and celebrities are doing.

It is an odd custom when you consider that famous people and celebrities do not care one fig about what the common people happen to be doing. In a monarchy it is different because the royalty has to show some interest in the common people, since their survival depends on it. God forbid there should be a revolution, because in a revolution the royal people often end up as commoners. Or even worse, they end up no longer in this world.

And so she explained to Albert the strange fact that the king and the queen would pretend to argue, even in front of guests, and she would give examples, saying, “For the queen it is often a three-part insult, such as, ‘You’re fat, lazy and stupid!’”

“Fat, lazy and stupid,” said Albert, wondering.“A three-part insult. How interesting. I got a two-part insult once.”

“How so?”

“She said I was an ignorant simpleton.”

“Does the king do the three-part insult?” he asked.

“No, the king is more direct and uses fewer words. After the queen says something he doesn’t like, he takes a deep breath, and shouts out, ‘WRONG!’ at the top of his lungs. And then he smacks his hand with his fist, or stamps his foot.”

“Does the queen stamp her foot?”

“Never, but she folds her arms and then taps her foot, as if keeping time to music, and while tapping her foot she will roll her eyes and have a look at the ceiling.”

“Now, for example, I will be the queen, and you will be the king, so listen to this. ‘You're a selfish, stingy glutton!’” she shouted.

“WRONG,” yelled Albert, and he banged his fist on the table. From then on, imitating the arguments of the king and the queen became a part of the cupcake hour, and Sarah would set the theme, because she was learning about government and its concerns.

“You are destroying the finances of the realm because you are careless, lazy and don’t even know how to add.” she might say, and Albert would scream out, “INCORRECT! It is your dresses and shoes that will lead the realm into bankruptcy.”

Sarah was proud to see that Albert could improvise, because he had substituted “incorrect” for “wrong” But she didn’t mention it, being unsure if it was inventiveness or just his simplicity.

But to mock and to ridicule a Queen's behavior is not without its dangers, and finally Max, the guard who had been spying on them, decided to lodge a complaint with the King.

—Richard Britell