The less you see

Ivy Mwende stared blankly at the sight before her. “what a mess!”, she thought.        

“ You don’t say, it’s pretty bad” Ola scoffed his response. She whipped her head to her left catching her partner whistle at the view. Realizing she thought out loud, she glanced back at the once little but very gorgeous bakery that stood right beside the town’s diner which fortunately did not suffer the same fate as ‘Momma’s Pan.’

“What did Mrs Royce say?” Ola shook his head in response. “ She didn’t . She’s still really shaken up about this. Her granddaughter said she may need to go get a check-up. She is in quite a fright”. Ivy sighed.  “Poor Mrs Royce”. Her former little suburban bakery which was famous for its excellent goods, classy service and homey feel, enclosed in see-through walls now was a shadow of itself. The glass walls littered the cold interlocked grounds as well as the display show glasses inside the bakery. The only side of the walls which was not made of glass, was torn down. Most of the bricks as well as the abstract portraits that formally hung on it lay shattered on the floor. The vibrant diner seats and tables were definitely a lost cause too. From each side, running to the other, they were pierced and torn with a sharp object as though someone was trying to find something hidden within the plush foams within. 

Ivy walked further into the bakery ignoring the various town civilians that were watching and sighing over the tragedy that befell their favourite bakery; Mommas pan.( their only bakery). The police were doing a good job trying to keep them away but they lingered, occasionally peering through what was left of the bakery. One good thing however, the kitchen was untouched. Ovens, pans pots and all remained oblivious to the destruction in other parts of the bakery.              

  “ Yep, definitely a robbery ”, Ivy concluded after her last stop at Mrs. Royce’s office. Like the rest of the place, the office had been combed through thoroughly. It reminded Ivy of the mess one would make when searching for something, except this was much worse. There was no saving this office. 

The strange thing however was that nothing seemed missing, destroyed beyond repair, yes. But everything remained were they were. “Hey George, you spoken to Rukki yet, anything stolen?” George shook his head responding “she said she’s been working here for the past one year. As far as she knows, nothing was stolen, George sighed “ this is weird man, just weird. Why would anyone tear this place down and not take a thing, Mrs. Royce doesn’t seem like the kind to have such enemies”. Ivy pondered the same thing as well. This couldn’t be ruled as a robbery as nothing had been reported stolen and a break in would be putting it lightly. This place was ravaged. She had many questions that she had to find the answers to. But one thing she was certain of - someone had been looking for something here. The question as to whether they found it or not still lingered.

Ivy lifted her cramped neck from the papers she’d been buried in for the past 3 hours to catch Ola stick his head into her office. “ hey! Any luck?” he asked. Ivy sighed in response “ this is something else Ola, anyway what’s up?”  

“Mrs Royce called. She insists on speaking only with you” Ivy’s attention was now very apt. She frowned slightly “ what for? This is about her bakery right.” “That’s my best bet. Maybe she has a suspect” “Right, put her through. Thanks Ola.” 

Seconds after Ola had left, her telephone rang and without missing a beat, she picked up. The shattered sound of Mrs Royce’s once soothing voice invaded her ears. “ it’s gone!” she wailed. “it’s gone! What am I supposed to do now?! It’s gone!” Mrs. Royce cried through the receiver.  Confused, Ivy answered calmly hoping to pacify the bitter old lady. “What’s gone, ma’am, tell me what’s gone.” More wailing proceeded and before the phone went dead, Ivy heard the sniffling woman mutter inaudibly “ my secret ingredient. She’s gone”.

Staring at the still phone, she thought about what just transpired. Well now she knew her most pressing question was answered. The break in hadn’t been a show of bad blood or some ill will towards the lovely Mrs. Royce. Something had been stolen and by Mrs Royce’s reaction, it wasn’t a nonstick pan or soy sauce. 

Looking up a person’s address in this little town , didn’t take up to five minutes. In two, she had found Mrs. Royce’s home address and was now driving swiftly but carefully towards her home. Ivy pulled up before a modest apartment and proceeded to the front door. After a few knocks announcing her arrival, the door shut open revealing 16 year old Yana, Mrs. Royce’s granddaughter. “ Good morning, how may I help you?” the girl asked calmly. “ Is your mama in, I need to speak with her” Yana shifted uncomfortably. “ She doesn’t wish to see anyone. Maybe you can come back later?” she made to shut the door but Ivy caught it before that happened.  “ I need to speak to your grandma, its important. ” Yana glanced back uneasily and then fixed her gaze on Ivy. “ Please don’t upset her, she’s not well”

 Ivy nodded in agreement and pushed into the small spic and span sitting room. She didn’t have time to admire the modest décor as the girl hurried her along a small hallway and into her grandmother’s room. Mrs. Royce sat in a creaking arm chair, glaring dejectedly at the wall opposite her. Whatever was stolen from her was clearly very dear to her. She didn’t flinch when her granddaughter called out to her, she didn’t move when she touched her. The girl looked briefly at me and at her grandmother and said “ Mama, Miss Mwende is here. She said she needs to talk to you.” That got Mrs. Royce out of the trance she seemed to be in and she looked sharply at her. Her cloudy eyes regarding Ivy cautiously. “ It’s gone” she repeated staring at the young woman like she knew what was gone and how apparently lethal the realization is. Gently, she rose from the creaking chair and sat on her bed ignoring her granddaughter and facing Ivy squarely. Ivy moved carefully to where she was sitting, while scanning the room for something to sit on. There was no way she was going to sit on that abomination called a rocking chair, and sitting on the bed, was definitely not an option either.  

“Sit down” murmured the old lady. When Ivy didn’t budge, she proceeded “ they got it. They finally got to her.” She went on. Her glossy eyes blinking ever so quickly. “ I thought she would be fine where I left her. Now, they have her. They have my…” she broke into a full sob. Ivy reigned in her impatience and confusion. She was beginning to think that was as far as an explanation she would get from the woman and it angered her. However, she produced a handkerchief from her purse and handed It to the crying woman. “It’s okay, Mrs. Royce. Just tell me what was taken and I promise I’ll help you get it back”. Mrs Royce turned to her and sighed “  oh child, there’s nothing that can be done. She’s gone. She’s not coming back.  What did they take?” Ivy asked firmly. Mrs Royce glanced down gingerly and ivy followed her gaze. They settled on the old woman’s foot where Ivy just noticed was missing a toe on her left leg. Mrs. Royce rose a shaky finger and pointed at the incomplete foot that Ivy now had a hard time looking at. “My ingredient, my secret ingredient.” 

Mrs Royce cautiously revealed her fascination with baking which she was never really good at. She resorted to black magic of sorts prompting her to own her very own ingredient, different from all others. No one could ever pinpoint what was so incredible about her goods. They just were. Thus her constant inflow of customers and her best baker status. A chip of her ingredient was just enough to ensure the uniqueness of a her sweets. And. They. Couldn’t. Get. Enough. No one knew her secret lay in her toe.