Kevin Hopson

Murder at the Bakery

Maya trekked the city sidewalk at one o’clock in the morning, glancing at a bakery as she passed it by. Much to her surprise, the lights were on. Maya lived around the corner and visited Flour Power on a regular basis. Like many bakeries, it closed early, so the illuminated interior made her pause.  

Maybe Brian, the owner, was getting an early start to the day. Flour Power opened at six a.m., so it wasn’t out of the question. 

Sure enough, Maya spotted Brian walking to the front door. The sixty-something man pushed through the door with haste, his gray hair disheveled and his brown eyes going wide at the sight of Maya. 

“Maya,” he said. 

“Hey, Brian. Long night? Or just getting an early start?”   

“Uh,” he stuttered. 

“Help me,” a muffled voice cried out. 

Maya glimpsed the bakery, a soft thud against the storefront window causing her to flinch. Her eyes bulged. A cinnamon roll was stuck to the interior of the glass, leaving a trail of icing as it slid down the window. That’s when Maya noticed tiny arms and legs sprouting from the pastry. 

Perhaps a long night of drinking was causing her to hallucinate. Regardless, Maya couldn’t hold her tongue.   

“What the hell?” she said. 

A nervous chuckle escaped Brian’s lips. “Uh, yeah. I can explain that.”

Maya gawked at him. “Can you? Because this isn’t normal.”

Brian opened his mouth to reply, but Maya interrupted. 

“Are those two cookies fornicating?” she said, gradually approaching the window. 

“Damn it,” Brian said. “I told them to behave while I was gone.”

Maya shook her head in disbelief, and Brian sidled up to her. 

“You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” Brian pleaded. “I’m going to fix it.”

She turned to him. “Fix it?”

“Yeah. I just need some time.”

“What you need is an exorcist.”

“They’re a little rambunctious. Not evil.”

“Are you kidding? Baked goods have risen from the dead.” She eyed the bakery again, this time her mouth ajar. “That chocolate cake just beheaded two scones with a baguette.”

“It’s the flour,” Brian said. 

Maya pivoted and met Brian’s gaze. “What?”

“I used a new brand of flour. I got a good deal at Cost Nothing.” Brian offered a proud smile, but it quickly faded. “Anyway, that’s when all of this started.”

“Well, apparently you got a raw deal.”

“You have to help me.”

“By doing what?”

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out. I needed some fresh air to clear my head, though.

Maya took a moment to ponder. “Can you show me the bag of flour? Assuming we can make it through the minefield in there.”

“Yeah. It’s behind the counter.”

He walked to the door and pulled it open, Maya following on his heels. As they neared the counter, Maya felt something prick her ankle. 

“Christ,” she shouted, stopping in her tracks. When she looked down, a piece of apple pie had a fork in hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” the pie said. 

“You stabbed my ankle. Put down the damn fork.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll squish you with my size ten shoe, you little—”

“Are you two done?” Brian interrupted. 

Maya raised her foot, briefly massaging her ankle. Then she hobbled toward the counter and stood next to Brian.  

“Here’s the flour,” he said. 

Maya arched an eyebrow as she inspected the bag. “Miracle Flour?”

“That’s the name of it.”

 “And you needed ten pounds of it?”

“I buy in bulk.”

“Have you ever considered going small when trying something new?”

“It’s the smallest size they had.”

Maya huffed and put a hand to the bag, spinning it around so she could read the back of it. “There’s a number you can call if you need assistance.”

Brian pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his pants and punched in the number. 

“Put it on speaker,” Maya said. “I want to hear this.”

Brian tapped the screen, and the phone rang a few times before someone answered. 

“Miracle Flour Hotline,” a woman said. “This is Karen. How can I assist you?”

“Yeah,” Brian said. “I bought some of your flour yesterday, and I have a problem.”

“What kind of problem, sir?”

“A big one.”

“Can you elaborate, sir?”

“Uh.” Brian swallowed. “I’m not sure how to say this.”

“Just spill it, sir.”

“You’re probably not going to believe me.”

“Try me.”

“All of my baked goods are—” Brian pursed his lips, searching for the right words. 

“Animated?” Karen said. 

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Huh?”

“Are they alive, sir?”

“Yeah. How do you—” He paused. “Wait. You know about this?”

“Of course, sir. That’s why we put a warning on the back of the bag.”

“What warning?”

“Did you mix the flour with water?” Karen asked. 

“Of course.”

“There’s your problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can’t mix it with water. Otherwise, you get some nasty treats.”

“That’s absurd,” Brian barked. “Just about every one of my recipes requires water. It’s a common ingredient in baked goods. What kind of flour doesn’t mix with water?”

“Miracle Flour.”

Brian let out a frustrated breath. 

“Are you still there, sir?” Karen said. 

“Yeah.” He mulled things over. “Will the effects wear off?”

“Yes.”

“How long does it take?”

“Usually the shelf life of the food.”

“You’re talking days. I can’t wait that long. I’ll lose business.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s not our problem. We have the warning on there for a reason. If you have any other issues, please think twice before calling again.”

Maya heard a click, and the call went dead. 

“Son of a—” Brian bit his tongue. 

“So, what now?” Maya asked. 

When Brian didn’t answer, a thought came to mind. 

“Why don’t we just stomp them into pieces?” Maya said. “We can dump them in the trash and be done with it.”

Brian shook his head. “I can’t kill them.”

“They’re going to die anyway.”

“We just want to be eaten and enjoyed,” a blueberry muffin said. It stared at Maya from a nearby display case. “It’s our purpose after all.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Brian said.

Maya circled the counter and walked to the front door. 

“You can join me,” Brian said. 

Maya stopped and looked over her shoulder. “No thanks. As tempting as it is, I don’t need one of these things bursting out of my chest like a damn Alien movie. Enjoy the feast, Brian.”