The Sacred Cake by r2

It all started going wrong the day they agreed to let my little brother have a toy.  Okay, I guess it wasn’t really a toy, but it wasn’t anything special, either. It was just a telescope. Nothing professional. Just one of those things you can buy in any hobby shop or Sharper Image. No biggie.

Brad, my brother, was a science geek. He had begged and begged Dad for it. Of course, telescopes were on the Forbidden List, but what wasn’t? I mean, iPods are Forbidden. Vampire Weekend is Forbidden. You couldn’t live if you followed all the bullshit.

But Dad, although usually easy going, can be a bit of a stickler about certain rules and regs, so he took it up with the council and got the big okay.

For Brad’s twelfth birthday he got a telescope. Big whoop. He took it up to his room and looked through the little peep-hole for hours on end. Knock yourself out geek-boy, I had better things to do. And by better things I meant Amanda, who lived on the other side of the compound. Now you wanna talk Forbidden? That girl and I tore Forbidden to shreds.

It was one of the few nights I was home when lil’ bro came downstairs and asked Dad about the cake.

“What cake?” Dad gave Mom one of those looks.

“The cake in the middle of the road.”

 “What road?” Dad’s voice took on that edge. It was time for Brad to retreat. Do the “uh nevermind” bit. Maybe he could save himself.

“The little road behind the temple.” Sometimes my brother was such a dimwatt.

Dad got out of his chair and clomped upstairs. He took one look through the telescope, picked it up like a Louisville Slugger and started beating it against the sill until the thing was bent to hell, the lenses shattered and the windowsill was splinters.

“You were supposed to look at the stars, not spy on the sacred grounds behind the Temple,” Dad yelled.

“But what about the cake?”

“There was no cake. Understand? No cake. Don’t ever mention the cake again.” Let’s just say Dad hit a decibel level I’ve never heard before or since.

“But…” At that I gave Brad a shove. Even though he was a geek and a pain in my ass, he was still my brother and I didn’t want Dad to totally spazz.

Later in the week, I was with Dad cleaning up the garage. He was his usual mellow self.  “Imagine Brad thinking he saw a cake in the road,” I added a bit of chuckle to my voice.

Dad gripped the claw hammer he was putting away. His knuckles turned white and for a second I thought he might smash my head or something.

“I told you to never mention that again.” Actually he had told Brad, but I decided not to press the point. “So forget about it. We’ll talk about it when you become an Elder.”

Hmm. So there was a cake. “Yea. Sure thing, Dad. No prob.”

Well, I forgot all about the cake and the telescope. Amanda and I were too busy exploring each other in ways the Church condemns, parents discourage and our hormones dictate. Life was sa-weeet.

Then one night, about a month later, Brad came into my room and shut the door. “It’s real. I saw it.”

“What are you talking about?” I took the iPod buds out of my ears and turned around on my chair to face him.

“The cake. It’s a wedding cake. I saw it in the road. I stuck my finger in it and tasted the icing.”

“You were on the sacred grounds behind the Temple?”

‘Yea, I climbed the fence when the guards weren’t looking and ran to the road and there it was. I had to see if it was real.”

“You idiot. You’ll be banished if anyone ever finds out you were there.” Those words were just out of my mouth when the door opened. Dad was standing in the doorway. He had heard everything.

That night Dad and Brad left for a special meeting with the Elders. Only Dad returned.

Besides the Forbidden List and the lamb sacrifices and all the other hoo-ha, my religion has rituals I won’t know about until I become an Elder. One of them involves girls becoming “married” to the Church on the night of their 17^th birthday. A girl puts a cake in the road behind the temple so the Elders know she is ready to consummate her vows. Some of the girls have gone into shock and died from the consummation ceremony.

They say my brother committed an unpardonable sin by touching the sacred cake. For that, he was stoned to death.

Ammonium nitrate gel makes dynamite look like firecrackers. I know. I tested it. I made some out of bags of fertilizer I stole from the communal barn. Put it in a bucket. Put some styrofoam painted like frosting on top and the sides. Those horny old bastards aren’t going to touch my Amanda. Tonight’s her 17^th birthday. And when the Elders circle the “cake” and start in with their chanting, BOOM! Yea, they’re going to pay for what they did to Brad.

Sorry, Dad, but even though he was a pretty geeky, he was still my brother.