Page 88 of Cloud Storm

“They’re rising,” cries Katie, who’s standing in front of one of the convection ovens.

“Thank fuck,” I mumble while making one of the frostings.

Two of the assistants are working with the caramel popcorn, another one with the cotton candy, and the last one is helping Katie with the caramel buttercream.

I’m working on the strawberry mousse for the last frosting, calculating the time we need to decorate all the cupcakes and put them on the display.

Around us there are people screaming and I’m not talking about the public. Markus, the other final runner, is barking instructions to his team.

Cameras gravitate around us taking in the slightest movement, requesting that we describe what we’re doing, stealing precious seconds.

“One of you is hitting a home run, the other is out. Thirty minutes, bakers!”

“We’re decorating, boss, don’t panic.”

“Something is burning,” I hear a girl screaming.

“Katie, what the hell is happening?”

Panicking, we run to the ovens to check our trays when we hear Markus screaming about a compote over the stove.

Holy fuck, that was close.

I can’t remember when the last time I drank water was and suddenly I’m thirsty. My brain is frying, I need hydration to keep going at this rate. Better to lose thirty seconds than to fall on the floor.

“Whoa, Ariel!” Katie calls my name and I turn around to see the carpenter approaching with my display. It looks like a ton of black and green wood pieces, and I want to die.

Where the fuck is my stadium?

The other carpenter walks in behind him with a huge piece of wood. They recreated the logo and added stairs and levels to display the cupcakes and at the very top, they place the illuminated WS logo.

Using all the pieces, my carpenter begins assembling something that resembles baseball bats.

I’m fried, yes as French fries.

“What do you think?” he asks and before I hit him on the head, I take another look. Oh well, we’re here, what have I got to lose?

Money? I’m not worried about money, to be honest.

Prestige? Well, this would help a lot, but losing isn’t the end of the world.

In no time at all, we empty our trays, loading the cupcakes on the display when we hear Jonah begin the final countdown.

“Time is up, bakers.”

Fortunately, after finishing with this marathon, they give us a little time to eat a bite and sit for five minutes.

I still, attention focused on my display. It should to be perfect, a piece of art, and watching it, I’m not that sure.

Is it a mind-blowing masterpiece?

“Ladies first,” Jonah says and I know it’s my time. “Ariel introduce us to your display.”

“I really love being around the stadium, the whole place holds so many memories for me, and this year our team is in the World Series, so I wanted to recreate that spirit in the display. There’s the stadium, but also some icons of downtown, the unfinished dome of the library, south California sun and the beach.”

I beam looking at the wonderful display my carpenter created. It’s like a small replica of the stadium and I’m so proud to be presenting it to the judges.

“What did you do with your cupcakes?” the host asks.

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