Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(7)

“Yup,” Tyler said. “What’s that thmell?”

“Apple pie baking in the oven,” I said.

“Yum!” Tyler said and raced ahead.

“I washed my hands two times!” Hunter said. “Can we have pie first?”

“It never stops. My little rule breaker,” Archie said and ruffled Hunter’s hair. “No.”

“Pie is for dessert!” I said. “If you eat your dinner, that is.” I surprised myself by saying something that sounded so parental, but when I looked at Archie’s face, he was unfazed by my words. The stress of the days since he’d lost Carin was still all over his face.

Tyler was already in the kitchen, having raced ahead, peering into the oven to confirm that there was indeed pie in his future.

“Close that oven door, young man,” Archie said and looked at me. “I’m sorry. He knows better.”

“It’s totally okay,” I said. “Now, what would y’all like to drink?”

I poured milk for the boys and iced tea for Archie and me and we sat down to eat. I caught a side glance of Archie and saw that he had double dimples in his cheeks. I loved dimples because I thought they were a sign of being good natured.

“So, boys? Are y’all having a good year in school?” I asked, thinking, That’s what a mom would ask.

They both bobbed their heads.

“Well, would you like to tell your dad and me something that’s going on? Tyler? You go first.”

Tyler, the second-grader, said, “Well, we’re learning how to carry one, you know, in math.”

“And is that easy for you?” I asked.

“It’s not hard,” he said. “I’m better at it than most of the kids.”

“Great!” I said.

“That’s good, son! Keep up the good work!”

“How about you, Hunter? What’s new in kindergarten?”

“Hmmm?” he said and looked up to the ceiling to see if the answer was there. In typical baby-of-the-family style, he decided to make it funny. “Well, last Monday our class pet, which is a snake, got loose and Miss Langbein, our teacher, almost fainted. But we found it and put it back, the boys did, that is. All the girls were standing on their chairs pretending to be scared. It was just a little old garter snake.”

He snickered.

“How about you, Archie? What’s new at the College of Charleston?” I said, feeling like I was doing pretty well as a pseudo parent.

“Oh, interesting and earthshaking things, of course!” he said.

“Like what?” Tyler asked.

Archie looked at them as though they couldn’t possibly want to know what was making the earth shake.

“Yeah, Dad, come on!” Hunter said. “Can I please have more mashed potatoes?”

With a nod, I got up and spooned out more potatoes for Hunter and then offered some to Tyler, who bobbed his head in assent. Yes, dinner was going really well.

“Thanks,” they whispered.

“Okay. So, this week I’ve introduced my World Religion 301 honors students to cargo cults.”

“What’s a cargo cult?” Tyler asked.

For whatever reason, I jumped in and said, “Well, break it down, Tyler. A cult refers to a group of people who believe something that’s a nontraditional spiritual set of beliefs.”

“Very good!” Archie said. “You get an A!”

“Thank you,” I said. “But what’s the cargo part of it?”

“In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries there were still many indigenous tribes who lived in remote areas, such as islands in the South Pacific. This phenomenon began around 1885, at the height of the British colonization period, and continued on through World War II. With World War II, the Japanese and then the United States needed airstrips to land cargo planes. So they chose a few islands and sent men there to build runways and towers. When our planes began to land there, well, this was a wondrous thing to the native people who had never left the bush. They had never even dreamed about airplanes, much less the manufactured goods the soldiers gave them. After the war, the planes left and abandoned the air bases and there were no more riches coming from the sky.”

“Wait a minute, Dad,” Tyler said. “Did these people think the guys from the planes were gods?”

“Yes! And after the war, the people felt abandoned and they began to perform rituals to bring the men from the sky back to them.”

“So, while the rest of the world was wearing clothes and driving cars made in factories,” I said, “these people lived so remotely that the planes, the soldiers, with their uniforms and weapons, seemed like aliens from another planet or gods?”

“Yes!” Archie said.

“Where exactly did this happen?” Hunter said. “I want to pin it on my map.”

Hunter and Tyler shared a large wall map of the world in the hallway between their bedrooms.

“Start with the Fiji islands,” Archie said.

“We can read more at the library, if you’d like to,” I said. “I know I’d like to learn more about them.”

By seven fifteen, there wasn’t a teaspoon of dinner left in a pot or pan. Tyler and Hunter ate like starving animals, as young boys do, and even Archie had seconds of everything. They insisted on doing the dishes over my objections and order was quickly restored.