Black Cake(23)

TV Byron tells an interviewer that most of the world’s oceans remain uncharted, that information about the depth and shape of the seafloor could be used in so many things. Tsunami forecasting. Pollution control. The mining of materials for the electronics that people use every day. Everything we need to know about our past and our future is here, Byron tells the camera, pointing at a screen showing remote-sensing images. And everything that we can learn about who we are as human beings and what we are willing to do will be tested by this kind of technology.

Robots under the sea are helping scientists to carry out a major mapping project, but Byron says having more information will be an enormous test of international good faith. With every new technological development, knowledge has to be shared. Accords must be developed and respected. Otherwise, there is a risk, he says, that human greed will be the dominant force, just as it has been on land.

“What if I had a vegetable garden at home,” he says, “and every time I wanted something like corn or tomatoes for dinner, I’d pull up all the plants by their roots or chop down an entire fruit tree just to have, say, a few apples? Well, you would say that makes no sense, right?”

Byron points now to a full-screen image of an idyllic seascape. “We need to be more careful with our underwater resources because that, out there, is the biggest garden we have on Earth. It may look infinite, but it’s not. We need to go easy on the seabed, we need to allow it to flourish.”

All the things that had initially threatened to work against Byron as a young scholar in ocean sciences have ended up turning him into a media darling. He talks about things like sonar technology, topography, and hydrothermal vents in ways that folks can understand. He looks like a fashion model for a high-end outerwear company. And, of course, he’s black.

There was a golden moment there, at about the time that Byron completed his PhD, when ethnic minorities were being encouraged more than ever to go for STEM degrees, though they didn’t always land the jobs with the best potential for professional growth. Byron had a very specific idea of what he wanted to do with his training. He kept knocking on doors and when, finally, one of those doors swung open at a newly formed foundation, wouldn’t you know it, he told Benny back then, he walked right through the reception area and into his dream job.

Byron grabbed the ball and ran with it and social media took him the rest of the way. Hashtags frequently seen alongside #ByronBennett include #ocean #science #underwater #tides #tsunami #globalwarming #environment #geohazards #oil #gas #pipeline #minerals #mining #defense #AfricanAmerican #sciencestud and #bachelors.

By tracking Byron online, Benny could pretend, at times, that it wasn’t true that they hadn’t seen each other in years, or hadn’t spoken in ages. She could allow herself to forget that she no longer had the kind of brother who would pick up the phone just to say hello, who would want to know how she was doing. Who might have gotten on a plane, banged on her front door, and pulled her into a bear hug had Benny called him in the middle of the night to say I need help.

She knows that part of this is her fault. But she’s here now, isn’t she? Still, it feels like Benny could yell at the top of her lungs and Byron, just down the hallway, wouldn’t hear her. Or he’d choose not to.





Byron





Byron and Mr. Mitch are slouched on the living room furniture, scrolling through their respective smartphones and waiting for Benny to come back into the room. Byron is pretending he hasn’t just had a huge argument with his sister, and Mr. Mitch is pretending he hasn’t just heard it.

Byron’s phone rings and he sees it’s Lynette again. This time, he answers.

“Lynette, how are you?”

“No, how are you? I’m so sorry about your mom, Byron.”

Weird, this super-polite conversation after three months of radio silence between them, after the way they left each other. No, correct that. After the way Lynette left Byron. But now that he hears her voice, he’s glad she’s made the effort. His ma really did like her. Lynette says she’ll be at the funeral service tomorrow.

“Maybe we could talk, afterward?” Lynette says. “Could we do that? Sit down somewhere together?”

“Sure, if you want,” Byron says.

“Yes,” says Lynette. “I do. Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Oh, there we go. So she does need something from him, after all.

Lynette, Lynette, Lynette.

It used to be easy to talk to her. But that was the old Lynette, before they’d fought and she walked out on him. Byron wishes he had someone like the old Lynette to talk to right now. He’d tell her about his mother’s recording, about the black cake tucked away in the freezer. The old Lynette would laugh at the cake. She would say, That’s just like your mom, Byron. And she would have Byron chuckling, too, right now, despite this cavern of loss in his rib cage.

His mother and her black cake was what had gotten Benny into baking to begin with. He didn’t see why his parents were so surprised when she started talking about wanting to go to Europe to take culinary classes. Though, sure, they were all pretty stunned when, sometime before that, Benny quit college and refused to talk about it.

“It just didn’t feel right,” was all she would say. “I need to try a different way.”