Close to Famous (25 page)

He thought about that. “You swear?”

“I swear. You don't have to worry.”

“I was never worried, Foster!”

Betty walked up holding a vanilla cupcake in each hand. “Where in the world did you learn how to bake like this?”

I told her about Sonny's show and how he was in a hospital now, hurt bad. And as good as this day had been, a place of sadness opened up in me.

“I would imagine a letter from you could be just what the doctor ordered,” Betty said.

I nodded and looked down.

“We could write the letter together,” Macon said. “I could film you cooking. We could send that to Sonny!”

WE COULDN'T GET the letter right, because Macon kept wanting to say things that didn't sound like me. He was getting pretty bossy since he got his camera phone. Miss Charleena said that some directors get a big head, and I'd better get used to it.

I decided to give Sonny what I do best.

“Today on
Cooking with Foster
, we're going to make pineapple upside-down cupcakes with whipped cream. I created this recipe myself, and I'm dedicating it to Sonny Kroll, who taught me how to cook. I think it's going all the way to become an instant classic.” I held up a pineapple slice and stood there.

Macon yelled, “Cut!”

“I was just going to cut it.”

He sighed like I was stupid, but I didn't take that personally. I knew I was smart. “ ‘Cut!' is what directors shout, Foster, when they want the action to stop. Tell us what you're doing and why you have the pineapple.”

It's hard to do this in front of a real camera. “I'll try.”

“Okay, roll it!” Macon shouted.

“I'm not making rolls, I'm making cupcakes.”

“
Cut!
”

This wasn't working too well. Cooks on the Food Network have to put up with a lot.

“Take three,” Macon shouted. I knew what that meant. It was the third time we were trying to get it right. I was getting sick of this. But then Macon smiled at me. “Just be yourself, Foster. That's the best thing in the world.”

I started again, explained what I was doing with the pineapple. By mistake I dropped the pineapple on the floor. Macon's face got red, but I kept going.

“If no one's looking you can pretend like that didn't happen.” I scooped up the pineapple and cut it up. I mentioned how you had to grease the cupcake pans extra well and not use paper liners. “We've got to turn the pan over at the end, and the cupcake comes out upside-down with the pineapple at the top.”

I put butter, brown sugar, and pineapple in the bottom of each cupcake tin and filled it with batter. “Now, we're going to pray this works,” I said. “If you're just learning to bake, don't start with this recipe. This is for experts. I'd say the level of difficulty on this is hard. But you can't just be doing easy things in life. That's not what makes you smarter.”

I put the pan in the oven. “But it's okay if you mess up. The most important thing about baking is to relax and be yourself. So don't go getting all perfect about everything, like if it doesn't look just like it does in the magazine, I can't cook it. You know, those magazines have tricks to make the food look good. But you and me—we don't need tricks. We're going to cook for people with all our hearts. That's the secret.”

I started making the whipped cream. I'd put my beaters and bowl in the freezer—that makes the cream whip better. I turned the beaters on high. It's noisy, so it's hard to talk, but I screamed over the noise. “This is great because you can make it up early and put it in the refrigerator until you're ready!” I added a little confectioners' sugar to the whipped cream and tried it.

“Perfect!” I shouted. “And remember to turn off the beaters before you take them from the bowl. I forgot that once and got whipped cream all over myself. These are just the lessons a baker learns in life.”

The timer went off. I touched the tops of the cupcakes and they sprang back. “Okay, now here's where it can all go wrong. You put a knife along the sides of each cupcake to make sure it's loosened. You put a big plate over the pan and turn it over fast.”

I did that and lifted the pan. All but two cupcakes came out with the pineapple sugar glaze on top. “I'd say that's a success!”

I got the whipped cream out, put a cupcake on a small plate. “Normally you let them cool before you put the whipped cream on, but sometimes you can't wait.” I spooned the whipped cream on and took a bite. I closed my eyes like Sonny did and made a loud
mmmmmmmm
sound.

“I want to tell you something I've learned. Cooking is about life. It gives us what we need to keep going, and it gives us something to share with other people. People don't think about that enough—so if you're a kid watching this, get out some pans and start practicing and see what food can do. And if you're an adult, don't stay stuck in the same old stuff you know, get out there with some fresh herbs and just go for it. And I don't want any letters about how you can't because your life is such and such a mess. I don't want to hear about that. I baked cupcakes once for an escaped convict, and they probably saved my life. I'm not making this up. I'll be telling you about that in the next show, but for now you just go for it and let your full self out. That's it until next time.”

I waited for a minute as my heart pounded hard. “Feel better, Sonny! We're on this road together.”

“Wave,” Macon whispered.

I waved with my wooden spoon in my hand. I might use that move next time.

“Was that okay?” I asked him.

He lowered his camera. “More than okay.”

Macon put the movie on the Internet, and we sent a letter to Sonny telling him it was there. Every day I wondered if I'd hear something. Mama was waiting, too. A man who had heard her sing wanted her to give a concert in Charleston.

Macon said you just have to keep going, no matter what, and he marched up to the Culpepper Prison and took his stand. He brought a stand, too. He put his camera phone on it, turned it on, and stood there seriously.

“I'm Macon Dillard and this is my town. It used to be different before this prison got built. There were promises made and broken and I've come to the Culpepper Prison to ask people
why
.” He lowered his voice. “But no one will talk to me.”

“Move it out of the way, kid,” said the guard.

“See what I mean?” Macon said. “I know a prisoner behind these gray walls. His name is Duke.”

“Thirty seconds, kid.”

Macon glared at the guard. “I'm not giving up! I will get the truth and tell the people! I'll be back!”

The guard sneered. “Hey, whatever.”

“Don't give up,” I told him.

“You either.”

We headed home past the Church of God FOR SALE. Perseverance Wilson was taking down the FOR SALE sign, smiling. The church door was open.

I was glad to see she was dealing with the loss.

“They're not going to sell it,” she said.

“You mean the church?”

Garland walked out. “The deal fell through.”

“What happened?”

“Taco Terrific backed out.” She clapped her hands and raised them high.

“Why?”

She looked up to heaven. “No one's quite sure, but we're just going to be thankful.”

THE LETTER WAS on the kitchen counter when I got home. It had my name on it, and the other name in the upper left of the envelope said FOOD NETWORK. It looked just like it did on TV.

I held the envelope and then opened it so carefully. A photo of Sonny Kroll fell out; then I looked at the letter. My mind started to close up, and all the things that said I can't read came rushing back. They were sitting on my shoulder and whispering in my ear,
Don't even try.

But I had a reading diploma with honors.

And, God knows, I had heart.

I sat down at the table, opened the letter, and unfolded it. It was from Sonny. At least I could tell someone had signed an
S
and then a squiggle.

I concentrated hard. My mind was not going to close up!

 

I took the next words apart . . .

 

I tried to sound out
tough
.
Too? Tow?
It didn't make sense. I kept going.

The next sentence was long, but it mostly had easy words.

 

It took me some time to get that, but when I did, I laughed.

 

I was grinning huge now. When I came to another long sentence, I just said each word slowly out loud.

 

“I hear you.”

 

I sat there holding the letter.
You don't know what you've given me, Sonny. You taught me to cook, and now you helped me read.

I read it again. I read it out loud.

“Well now,” Mama said. “Look what you're doing.”

“I have to take it slow, but I can do it! You want to hear the letter, Mama?”

She sat down and nodded.

“How do you say t-o-u-g-h?”

“Tough.”

I know about that!

I'll tell you something about tough things. They just about kill you, but if you decide to keep working at them, you'll find the way through. On the Food Network they have these shows where cooks have to put a meal together with all these weird ingredients. That's a lot like my life—dealing with things you wouldn't think could ever go together. But a good cook can make the best meal out of the craziest combinations.

When I get my own show, I'm going to talk about that.

But for now, I'm going to make the world a better place, one cupcake at a time.