Tradition

While I was checking the money compartment on the Ceety Candy Machine in Melrose Avenue I came to a realization, I can’t do this no more, only fifty? I’m sorry pops but it’s already in the red. I hope you’ll forgive me. I quickly stuffed the dough into my pockets and put the compartment back in the machine. I continued on my route then went back to my crib and got the table set for Thanksgiving dinner.

At around eight o’ clock all of the family was here so I decided to start the festivities and announced, “Time to start!” After a couple of seconds everyone stopped conversing and looked towards me, “Everyone, it’s time to make the pie! Ain’t no one missing out either.”

They started slowly trickling into the kitchen until they were all at a cooking station.

“A’ight, is everyone here?,” I checked.

They all said,  “Yeah, we all be here.”

I ordered, “Okay, split into your regular groups and go to your group’s station.”

Everyone went to their proper groups until Dale, my younger cousin, went to the crust station instead of the pumpkin flesh gathering station. I went up to him and told him, “Dale, this is the Crust Station, not the Purée Station.”

He nonchalantly said, “I know.”

Aggravated, I responded, “This ain’t be your station though, your station is the Purée Station.”

To my displeasement, he said, “No more it ain’t, this be my station now.”

“You can’t change your station, it’s a tradition for a reason.”

“Who cares about tradition? I don’t want to purée so I won’t.”

Near shouting I told him, “Don’t take tradition lightly, it’s an amazing part of family that must be kept. A tradition is already stopping today so don’t even think of stopping any more.”

“It just dumb and you way overreacting man”

I snapped, “Just go to your proper station! Now!”

Everyone looked up from what they were doing and looked at me like I was crazy or something. Dale reluctantly walked over to the Crust Station. I went to my living room and sat down, thinking about what I was going to tell them about the family business, Ceety Candy Machines.

It felt like forever had passed when my aunt, Burnette, had called, “Is every station ready to assemble?”

Everyone responded with either a yes, definitely, or almost. I got up from my armchair and went over to the kitchen to check what was happening. To my surprise, the pie was assembled and was already being put in the oven.

I was impressed with their quick work and said, “Wow, amazing job everyone. Once that in the oven, come  to the living room.” It only took another minute for them to put the pie in the oven and then they followed me into the living room where we watched, as tradition, we started watching channel 7. Halfway through a report on an SUV that ran over 43 mailboxes in near proximity someone changed the channel. I looked around for who it was. Everyone was looking around the same as I was. I saw my uncle, Dorte, looking around like everyone else but he had an arm behind his back. Jeopardy started playing on the TV.

I went up to Dorte and asked, “Did you change the channel?”

Obviously lying he said, “No, why you think I change the channel?”

“Turn it back.”

“I ain’t getting the big deal, why not we watch Jeopardy?”

“It tradition,” I replied annoyed, “Tradition is important and we will follow it to the best of our ability.”

Dorte gave up and complied, “Fine, I’ll turn it back, Jeopardy isn’t worth this.” He switched it back to channel 7 and handed me the remote. 

Soon after, the timer for the pumpkin pie rang and we took the pumpkin pie out. As usual, the pumpkin pie was perfect. While the pie was cooling, everyone wrote cards of thanks. 

Once I finished my card, I took out all of the food that I had ordered and placed it on the table, including the pie. Everyone started trickling in after a couple of minutes after the food had been placed. 

Once they were all seated my niece, Persilla, started to poke the stuffing.

Trying to be nice I told her, “It’s not time to eat yet, Persilla.”

She looked at me and said, “But I hungry and food is here.”

“I’m sorry and you’ll eat soon, but we start eating old to young.”

“Why?”

“It’s tradition, tradition is good and fun when followed.”

She gave me puppy dog eyes and said, “But it not fun to eat last.”

Practically begging her I said, “Please, for me?”

“Fine.” She put down her fork and patiently waited until it was her turn to start eating. Once everyone had finished eating it was 10 o’ clock.

I said, “Aight’ everyone, throw your cards in the fire in a single file line.”

My younger brother, Andre, told me, “I already threw it out man.”

“You know the tradition!,” I accused, “Dig it out of the trash.”

Dale stood up for him, “No way he gonna do that! why you being all crazy with this tradition junk?”

Infuriated, I lashed out, “Tradition isn’t junk! It just as important as family!”

Dale also shouting now continued to ask, “But why you being so crazy ‘bout it now?! You never been this mad ‘bout people breakin’ it before!” 

Everyone was looking towards us now and I admitted, “I so mad about people breaking it ‘cause I’m ending the family business and I don’t want any other traditions to end.”

That shocked everyone and Andre offered, “I can take it over, I don’t have much of a job right now.”

“You don’t understand,” I argued, “It losing money, I don’t want to put you in that situation.” 

Everyone else was murmuring and then Dorte announced, “Why don’t everyone take o’er the business, “I’m speaking for everyone in this room when I say this. Why don’t everyone take o’er the business, that way if it losin’ money it don’t affect one person to much?”

“I can’t ask that of ya’ll,” I told them.

Dorte replied, “You ain’t, it our decision.”

“Well, I can’t tell you no. So, welcome aboard, I guess.”

Dorte chuckled then told me, “You ain’t gonna regret it!”