UnEnchanted (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale #1)(4)

The boys followed mere inches behind the tour guide while the popular girls, including Savannah, hung back shooting hateful glares towards Claire. They flipped, powdered, and glossed their lips in preparation for what could only be described as an obvious retaliation. To the girls, a challenge was issued and a battle line was drawn; this meant war. Mina felt a moment of pity for the poor tour guide; she had personally seen what it was like to be on the receiving end of jealous girls from Kennedy High.

Mina looked at Nan to see if she noticed, but Nan was preoccupied with her texting. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Nan’s sleeve and led her after the group of students into the factory; Nan texting the whole way. Mina decided to hang back to what she deemed a safe distance between the love-struck boys and the hate-filled girls.

Claire took them through fluorescent lit hallway lined with photo murals of the Babushka's baking factory’s history. She paused every few feet to explain the history. “This is our founder Larry Brimwell. In 1911 he started the bakery out of his two bedroom home and then moved it into a rented building in the international district in 1913.” A grainy black and white photo could be seen of a man with a white apron and hat, rolling small balls of chocolate on a small kitchen table. Out of focus and barely visible underneath the table was a small brown-haired boy playing with a wooden car.

The next wall mural was depicting a smiling Mr. Brimwell outside of a small vacant building with a “For Rent” sign in the dirty paned window. A severe, unsmiling, stiff blonde woman stood next to Mr. Brimwell, one hand holding a small clutch purse, the other clasped the hand of the same young boy who was looking away from the camera. It was obviously his wife, Mrs. Brimwell. Mina stopped to stare at the picture of what was supposed to be a happy family. The picture seemed odd, forced and wondered what was really going on in Mrs. Brimwell’s mind.

“It was Mrs. Brimwell who saw the potential of the turning the bakery into a full scale factory and invested all of her inheritance into the company against her father’s wishes. Soon after they purchased this current factory, Larry died of scarlet fever and his wife and son were left to take on the family business, alone.” Claire stopped speaking, her voice quavering for only a split moment, her eyes looked wet with tears, before she cleared her throat and bedazzled the group with her smile again. “Through hard work and perseverance they made it into the baking empire it is today.”

“Who runs it now?” Pricilla Rose, or Pri for short, raised her hand and asked the question before being called on.

“Why that would be Mr. Brimwell’s son.” Claire spoke offhandedly as if this information was impertinent.

“Well that would make him almost a hundred years old,” Pri commented. “He must be very agile and have full control of his faculties to run such a large business at his age.

“Silly me,” Claire chuckled. “Please forgive me, I meant to say his great grandson, B.J., who met you at the front door.” Heads bobbed in understanding but Pri didn’t seem satisfied.

More facts were mentioned and the tour kept moving. Mina grabbed a chewed up pencil out of her backpack and her blue spiral Five Star notebook and aggressively began jotting down every fact that Claire spoke. Mr. West told them they would have a paper due concerning their tour, and Mina needed an A on this paper, badly. Sometime during the lecture on the usefulness of different sugars in the chocolate process, Mr. West had become separated from the tour group and not one of the students noticed their ward’s absence.

Claire seemed to enjoy the extra attention from the boys, particularly Brody, and did nothing to discourage them otherwise. The tour went through the stock room, the drying room, and the mixing rooms. Every room looked the same, sterile and depressing; the workers even more so in their drab white coats, shower caps, and listless droning movements. The expression on every one of the workers face was the same; blank.

Mina noticed that many of the students were becoming bored and more than a few could be seen trying to stifle their yawns, so as not to upset their guide. Mina felt her eyes start to go heavy as if she hadn’t slept in days.

Slowly the atmosphere of the tour changed. Mina hardly noticed when the facts quit coming forth readily and Claire’s voice no longer echoed loudly enough to reach the back of the room. In fact, Claire had hardly spoken above a whisper for the last five minutes. The rest of the class became incidental as the tour now seemed to only consist of one V.I.P.; Brody.

Claire would lean in and gently put her hand on his shoulder to direct him if he was turning the wrong way. She would whisper a comment that only he seemed to hear. Everything about the small movements and encounters between the two seemed odd, out of place. Claire stopped walking to listen to a comment that Brody made and she turned her head coyly to the side and laughed. Now Mina wished that she wasn’t at the back of the group, so she could hear what was said. But someone obviously did overhear; Savannah moved in for the kill.

Savannah flipped her blonde hair and physically stepped between Claire and Brody and tried to turn the attention to her, unsuccessfully. Her nose turned up in challenge. “I heard that the factory is really not a factory at all but a front for illegal…” Claire’s eyes turned dark and Savannah froze unable to finish her sentence as Brody grabbed her elbow and turned on her, interrupting.

“You have GOT to be kidding Savannah? Really, you want to do this now?”

Savannah’s eyes went wide with confusion. “Do what now? Brody what are you talking about?”