The ascent up the towering birthday cake was physically the single most difficult thing Alex had ever attempted in his life. Unlike the reassuringly solid threads of his titanic mother’s skirt he had been scaling not long ago, now, his only footholds to gain vertical ground were the curled coconut chips coating the sides of the cake from all sides, dug deeply into the cream frosting. Alex was grateful that he had been so liberal when sprinkling the coconut shaving chips over the cake when preparing it, as without them, he would’ve had no chance of climbing up to the top where his mother’s gaze happened to be resting idly while she continued chatting with her husband on the phone.
Alex tried to keep his breathing steady as he reached up his hand, grasping at a crispy coconut chunk and attempting to distribute his weight. Instantly, he felt the chip tugging downward through the thick, gummy layer of frosting, reacting to his miniscule but nonetheless existent weight, and the only way to stop this was to quickly reach for another chip with his other hand to keep things balanced. It was a risky method, but Alex discovered that by trying to keep his weight distributed between pairs of coconut shavings, he was actually fully supported by the pastry toppings and was able to make progress upward. Taking a deep breath, Alex tried not to look down but estimated that he was halfway up the cake now. There was definitely no turning back at this point, and regardless, the boy doubted he could without losing his grip and splatting down at the base of the cake anyway.
As he climbed, Alex was forced to press himself against the surface of the cake for support, and as a result was thoroughly coated in the pasty, off-white frosting thickly coating the cake. It was a rich, creamy mixture, and as a result felt to Alex like pushing through clay or hardened syrup. Several times, he felt his foot or elbow become stuck in the whipped sea of frosting, and had to gently tug it loose without jostling too much for fear of pulling his coconut foothold entirely out of the frosting and sending him tumbling to his doom.
The aroma surrounding Alex was pleasant, at the very least: the deeply rich cream coating combining with the exotic, sweetly sour tickle of coconut. Finally, Alex felt the surface of the cake leveling out with a huge exhalation, Alex plopped onto his back on top of the cake, rolling over a few times just to keep safe from falling off the edge. As he lay still for a moment, sunken slightly into the frosting as if making a snow angel, the fifteen-year-old listened intently once again to his mother, whom he had been ignoring for the most part during his ascent.
“I don’t know, honey. I mean… he couldn’t have forgotten about it, he made me a cake! Yes… yes, you’re probably right, it’s going to get cold soon, but… what? Traffic jam? Oh, honey… I was so looking forward to spending this entire… evening… with you,” she said slyly, poking at her tremendous full lips suggestively with her pointer finger, her green eyes flashing at the very idea of what she was insinuating.
Alex shuddered a bit, considerably grossed out by the way his mother apparently was willing to speak to his father when she thought no one was around, but continued listening.
“Well, Thomas has practice until 8:30 tonight, so he’s out anyway… I guess… I guess I could just wait for Alex to get back and we could have some cake together, then we could watch a movie or something when you get back, honey. How does that sound? I… what? Hmmm… I guess that’s true. The cake looks fresh out of the oven, but the temperature is probably at the right place right now… much longer and it’ll get cold.”
Alex could note from almost first-hand experience that this was true. The slightest bit of heat was still emanating up from the deep mountain of thick chocolate cake beneath the shallow cream swamp of frosting, but for the most part, the cake had reached the perfect temperature for eating.
Michelle shrugged, grinning a little and turning her gaze toward the ceiling pensively. “Yes, I know… he made it for me, he probably wouldn’t want it to be eaten cold…”
“No!” gasped Alex, finally catching up with himself and pulling himself to his feet, frustrated that once again he was out of his mother’s field of vision. As he stood up, though, he instantly was pulled back to his knees, which in turn led to him face-planting back in the frosting. He had stood up so quickly that he hadn’t accounted for the sugary, gooey waves of frosting that had begun to gel around him as he caught his breath, and had clung tightly to him. Sputtering and pushing up hard off the squishy floor, Alex struggled to his feet and took a step. It felt like trying to walk through three feet of snow; each time Alex took a step, he had to swing his leg in the air a few times to break free of the sweet strand of frosting that seemed to have entangled itself around his entire leg like tendrils of cream.
“You know what? It looks like he even got out plates, forks, and napkins for us to sit down together and have it? Honey… that’s one sweet boy we have, huh? I mean, he’s fifteen years old! Most guys his age would probably be wandering around the neighborhood at this hour with friends, not baking a cake for his mother. You know what… I think I’ll go ahead and do that before it gets cold,” she said with a pleased smile.
A wave of relief washed over Alex. Finally, she was about to be staring squarely at the cake again! Now, all he had to do was stand up, wave his arms, and scream with every shred of energy he had left in his vocal cords. It was foolproof. He could be seen easily from there, and at long last, this horrendously abnormal and terrifying situation would come to an end. Alex readied himself, brushing as much frosting off of his body as he could. It wasn’t particularly easy, as the frosty goop was slick, and even when he had pushed the bigger dangling globs off of his body, he was still thickly lubricated in the sugary stuff.
“All right, honey, I’ll see you later. Drive safely!” cooed Michelle before hanging up, snapping the cell phone shut, and setting it calmly down on the pile of paperwork she had been busy on, which she brushed aside for the time being.
Alex waited patiently as his mother’s house-sized hand reached forth and retrieved a glass plate from the stack he had set out earlier to serve the birthday dessert. With the same hand, she fished a fork up from the pile with her thumb and set them both down in front of her. Finally, her hand reached forth, her arched fingers lowered toward the base of the glass plate to pull it towards her. However, as Alex opened his mouth to begin shouting, he watched Michelle’s head turn slightly to the left as her other hand grasped for the cake slicer that had been set next to the plates. Grasping the large utensil in her hand, Michelle gripped the edge of the cake’s plate with the other and yanked it toward her across the cedar tabletop, creating a rolling drum effect that allowed the sound of the sliding glass to rumble through the cake itself.
Alex had no time to react as the force of the pull sent a massive blast of wind directly into him. It felt like getting tackled by a linebacker, and the boy instantly went down, dizzied by the intense pressure exerted on his body by the sheer speed with which he was moved across such a wide distance.
The boy felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into the frosting, his breathing stopped for a moment, until he felt his back hit the warm, firm top of the actual cake. By now, though, the massive, curling folds of cream frosting seemed to be cascading back over him like waves, and Alex was powerless to resist as the light was blocked out adjusting layers of gummy frosting, literally burying him alive in the soft pastry coating.
“NO! God…” grumbled Alex angrily, thrashing wildly in the sea of frosting as he clawed his way back up toward the surface of the cake. However, he was stopped in his tracks once again by an all-too familiar tingling sensation along his fingertips, followed by a shooting rush of cold through his very core.
Alex screamed in horror.