Piece Of Cake

• Sierra Zanin, Grade 6, Oxley Primary School
• Short Story
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

She stood there, her piercing, blue eyes squinting in the sun, her wispy, dark hair lashing ferociously in her face. Her expression is triumphant.
She is a lion; brave, bold, fierce. She is a monkey; cheeky, daring, mischievous.
She is my best friend, Cleo Veratee. She isn’t afraid of anyone or anything. All she says when the boys dare her to shimmy up the flagpole and transfer to the classroom roof, is, ‘Piece of Cake!’ That’s where she is right now actually, glaring down at the boys.
“Told you!” she teases.
“Cleo,” I moan, “please hop down.”
“I never get caught, Lauren!” she retorts. She shimmies down anyway, just as the bell rings.
Those were the times. Before it happened.
*
It rattled. It shook. It tore up the ground. It turned our world upside-down. Not literally, but that’s how it felt. A slippery road, a truck driver, a koala in the way, that’s all it took.
Cleo’s Mum and Gran were dead and there was nothing I could do. Cleo was shocked with grief, far deeper than I could handle.
*
Cleo was away from school ‘till next term. When Cleo came back she wasn’t Cleo anymore. She never smiled, or laughed or talked.
Anything was possible for Cleo. ‘Piece of Cake!’ she used to say. But how could it be easy when her piece of cake had gone all rotten and mouldy and the icing was all mushy?
It was as if someone had chucked gallons of water on Cleo’s fire like spirit and extinguished it once and for all.
It was awful watching Cleo like this. What could I possibly do? A thought suddenly struck me. I could remind Cleo of all the good times she’d had with her Mum and Gran. I’ll teach her to forget. No, to remember and cherish the happy times. First stop, the park!
*
I went and fetched Cleo and gently led her to the park.
“Remember when your Mum took us for a picnic here once, and you spilt sauce on your pretty, green dress and couldn’t have a care in the world? Meanwhile, your Mum was chasing after you, scolding?” I spoke softly. Cleo smiled. It was weak, slight and strained but it was a start.
“Remember this,” I queried. I sprinted up the slide and shouted at the top of my lungs,
“I’M THE QUEEN OF THE CASTLE AND YOU’RE THE DIRTY RASCAL!!!!” Cleo let out a little giggle and ran up to join me.
I knew it would take time, but I would help put the spark back in Cleo Veratee.
And together we discovered that even the yuckiest pieces of cake could be tasty with some sprinkles on top!!