“I have to go," I say, "I am baking a cake.”

“You can keep your willpower, Frog. I am going home to bake a cake.”

“His father is out cutting wood, so he goes to his mother.'Mother, I must away and see the world, or I shall go mad.'Says his mother, 'If you must go, go you must, and God go with you! I will bake you a cake. Will you have a little cake with my blessing, or a big cake with my cursing?'Says Jack, 'Make me a big cake, mother. It will last longer.'His mother makes him a big cake, and he sets out. And she is standing on the roof of the house, calling curses after him as far as she can see him.”

“What about you?""Not a clue. I keep wishing I could bake a cake or something.”

“Uriah drops his tray next to me. It is loaded with beef stew and chocolate cake. I stare at the cake pile.“There was cake?” I say, looking at my own plate, which is more sensibly stocked than Uriah’s.“Yeah, someone just brought it out. Found a couple boxes of the mix in the back and baked it,” he says. “You can have a few bites of mine.”“A few bites? So you’re planning on eating that mountain of cake by yourself?”“Yes.” He looks confused. “Why?”“Never mind.”

“I just baked a cake in the shape of a door. Somebody’s knocking now, so let me get that.”