Little People

The baker gently lifted up the boy and placed him on the milky white frosting draped on a rich dark chocolate cake. The boy looked around in wonder. He leaned casually against a sugary log. Just up ahead was an evergreen fir tree, flakes of snow dusted on its branches. Chubby round toadstools, dyed a brilliant red and dotted with huge white spots, broke the monotony of the virginal landscape. Intricate fractal crystalline snowflakes adorned the ground. He stood there a little foolishly, coat buttoned up a little too tightly, with a Christmas hat draped rakishly on his sandy hair. A woollen green scarf was wrapped around his throat.

The baker then hurried off to answer the doorbell. He could hear the baker talking to someone in urgent tones over the phone, “Yes, Mr. Thomas. I assure you the cake will be done by this evening. You can come by and pick it up later.”

The baker came back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her gingham apron.

“OK, let’s see, where were we?”

The boy watched as a cherubic girl with apple-stained cheeks and fluffy blonde curls hidden under a gray knitted beanie hat was lowered into position onto the cake. She wore a lacey pink dress beneath a thick brown fur coat. She had big blue eyes and pouting lips. The baker scattered some silver balls around the two little marzipan people and surrounded the chocolate base with colourful flowers. Then, the baker brought the cake out and placed it on a refrigerated shelf at the counter.

The crowds jostled past the bakery, heavy laden with bulging shopping bags in their arms. It had started to drizzle when a tall, dark-skinned man with a bushy moustache entered the bakery. He greeted the baker cordially and handed over two fifty-ringgit notes to her. She slowly removed the cake from its position and packaged it deftly into a cardboard box tied with pink ribbons.

The boy and the girl gaped in horror as all turned dark around them. Then they felt themselves being lifted up into the air as Mr. Thomas carried the cake off the counter. It was as though they were in a ship, swaying with the tossing waves. They heard the roar of a car engine droning in the background.

“Where do you think we are going to?” the boy asked. The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“Daddy! Daddy! I want to see the cake, please,” they heard a high-pitched squeal.

Mr. Thomas opened the box. Harsh fluorescent light flooded the winter wonderland and the two marzipan people winced involuntarily. Golden lights twinkled on a giant glittering Christmas tree towering overhead and the smell of spicy chicken curry wafted in the air.

“Ooh,” they heard little Bertha Thomas exclaim.

“It’s time for the party to begin! Come here, Bertha,” Mrs. Thomas said as she entered the living room with a freshly-baked Shepherd’s pie. The guests cheered happily.

The next two hours were a blur of chaotic activity and chatter. The boy and girl were removed from the snowy frosted cake and placed onto a plate. The cake was then cut and distributed to the hungry guests.

“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,” Mr. Thomas said, raising his glass of Coke. “Merry Christmas,” the guests echoed. There was much laughter and eating and drinking.

Finally the party was over. Silence settled over the Thomas house. The maid came to clear up the mess and wash the dishes. She took the boy and the girl and tossed the two figurines onto the heap of rubbish piled into a metal trash can in the kitchen. Then, she turned out the lights. It was pitch black except for the distant stars twinkling in the sky beyond the half-shuttered window.

The girl suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh, what’s going to happen to us now?” she sobbed.

The boy looked at her helplessly.

“I don’t know,” he said.

She was still crying piteously. “Don’t worry,” he tried to comfort her. He wanted to reach out to her, but found that his right leg was broken. He grunted as he hobbled across a chewed-up turkey drumstick, dragging his leg with him.

“Do you think that we are going to die? The garbage collectors will probably be here tomorrow. That will be the end,” she whispered.

The boy wrapped his little arms round her. Her whimpers gradually died down. He heard her sniffle as she buried her golden locks into his shoulder.

“We will figure something out tonight,” he said resolutely.

The two little people stayed like that for some time, watching the soft silver moonlight rise and flood the empty kitchen. A dog howled in the distance and a tiny gecko skittered across the ceiling. The fragrance of the ‘pandan’ bush outside softly perfumed the fresh air of the night.

He looked down at the girl tenderly as she snuggled against him. He gently brushed aside her tears. She clung on to him desperately. Both gripped by the unspoken fear that these would be the last few hours of their lives.

He dug deep into his coat pocket and found what he was looking for. He hesitated for a few moments and then pressed it into her hand. Her big blue eyes fluttered and looked up at him as she opened her palm and saw his gift.

“But,” she started to say.

“Shh, take it. It’s yours now,” he murmured in her ear.

“Wait,” she said.

She removed something from her own pocket and held it up to the tenuous moonlight. He caught a glimpse of it before she slipped it into his coat pocket, replacing the one he had presented to her.

It was a small brilliant ruby-coloured, almond-scented marzipan heart. Just like the one he had given away a few moments before. He started to choke up and a stray tear glistened on his cheek.

He forced himself to stand and glanced around the kitchen. The back door had been left slightly ajar, held in place by a chain lock far above them.

“We can escape,” he told her and pointed at the narrow gap that led to the world outside.

She looked at his broken leg, dangling precariously at an angle. “We need to fix this first,” she said. She hunted around in the rubbish surrounding them and found a toothpick. Nudging him to sit down, she put the small wooden stick against his broken leg like a splint and wrapped it around him with a bit of string.

“Thank you,” he said. He took more of the string and tied one end around the turkey bone.

They both looked at the door, hearts pounding in anticipation.

“To freedom,” he cried as he rappelled down the slippery wall of the trash can with the girl by his side.

“And a new life beyond,” she added.