God's Brownies

Everyone loves brownies. It’s one of those things where you can walk through a crowded room with a plate, stacked high with these fresh chocolate morsels, confident in the knowledge that not a single person will refuse you. Diet? Well, I can probably get away with just one. Just ate? Well, it’s a nice dessert, thank you. There’s no such thing as “not hungry” when brownies are involved. Some people put walnuts in their brownies, but that’s like putting a hat on a pig. Just leave the bacon alone, I say.

I’m Ben, and I like to help out in the kitchen. It’s a good set of chores all by itself, and Brother Malachi says we should always look for ways to help out around the town. Oh, and when I say “town”, I really just mean New Providence, right here in the heart of Oregon, population 50. I’ve heard about other places with more people, sure. Sister Agatha says that there are big cities outside of New Providence, with thousands of thousands of people, living in houses made of metal and plastic so high that they cut right through the clouds. I don’t think she was making it up, but she’s usually pretty honest about stuff, so I don’t see why she’d make it up, except to try and fun me.

I’ve been helping out since I was big enough to wear an apron without stepping on the bottom, and now that I’m ten I can do most of the meals myself. I need a couple of the olders to butcher the meat, but Brother Isaiah says before long my muscles will come in and I’ll be able to swing the axe like any of the rest of them.

The best part about running the kitchen is that you get to set the menu. I can’t wait til I’m old enough for that. I don’t think we’ll have spaghetti every day, but once in a while I’ll have it twice in a week just for a special surprise. Sister Laura sets the menu now, and she always gets that look on her face when I ask her to make spaghetti. I swear, she must hate Italians or something, because she puts making pasta right up there with cleaning the septic tank. But everyone else in the family asks her real nice, so she agreed to let us have spaghetti every other Wednesday. Each Wednesday that’s not spaghetti night is mac and cheese night, but it’s not the same. She just uses those boxes with the powdered cheese, and that’s gross. Not even sliced hot dogs.

Brother James had insisted we have raviolis one time, and she finally made them just to shut him up, she said. Those were great, but then he died and Sister Laura said she was too broken up over his passing to ever make ravioli again.

I think that’s a bit weird, though. He would want us to have ravioli, and maybe even think of him. At least, that’s what I think.

But maybe she’s right, after all. He did get the bad brownie. And like she says, God never gives you the wrong brownie. I don’t always agree with Sister Laura. I remember when she was called Melanie, before she was called to be Sister Laura. She likes to act like she was always Sister Laura, but I remember.

New Providence was formed in 1953, after a group of families left the west coast in search of a simpler life; one where they could be left alone to tend to their children without being told how to raise them. It’s been a while now, and that’s all we hear about them. There’s nobody here now that knew them, nobody that knows anybody that knew them, and in fact I’m pretty sure nobody’s here now that knew anyone that knew anyone that knew them. But it’s all right. Brother Thomas has a really good memory, and he remembers everything that he was taught by the old teacher before him, and he’s doing what he can to make sure we know everything we have to know. Also, everyone in New Providence does something really well, and teaches someone else to do it too. So I guess at least every two people in New Providence can do something really well, better said.

The firsts were really worried about the end of the world. There were things called wars, where lots of people got killed because of someone coveting someone else’s wife or something. Brother Thomas says that there are still wars now, in places all over the world, all because people want cheaper gasoline or don’t like the color of someone else’s skin. I can understand why the firsts were so afraid of the world ending. A lot of people outside of New Providence are filled with fear and anger, and don’t love each other. That never made sense to me.

Before I forget, though, I should add that everyone in New Providence can do two things really well. Either we cook, clean, build, sew or whatnot, whatever our main chore might be; and we also work in the greenhouses.

The greenhouses are right smack in the middle of New Providence. Wherever you go, you can see them, shiny and beautiful. Brother Thomas says it’s one of the first big things the firsts ever made here. Right in the middle of the greenhouse is a smaller greenhouse, which is supposed to be where the first plant that they ever started to grow comes from. Every other plant in the greenhouse comes from that first plant, though we’ve done some expansion over the years to add some variety. Sisters Jane and Mary work in there primarily, overseeing the whole nursery; but, it’s a lot of work and, since it’s the way New Providence gets most of our money, it just makes sense that we all help out.

“Agriculture is the foundation of a righteous culture.” Brother Benjamin teaches us that. He does our Sunday meetings, and also works as the driver when we take our crops into town each week to sell it. Even their departure each week is a kind of ritual here. He and James and John load up the back of the truck and we sing a couple of hymns as they pull away. James and John are brothers, and are the biggest people in the whole family. They’re called the Boanerges – Brother Thomas told me that means “Sons of Thunder.” I think that’s pretty cool. James is the bigger of the two. He can pick me up and throw me into the air with just one hand. He and his brother always dress funny when they make the drive into town. They comb their hair back and wear black leather jackets with dark glasses over their eyes.

I’m probably not supposed to know this, but once before they were going to leave, I begged James to pick me up and throw me into the air like he always does, and when he bent down to pick me up, I saw a silver thing inside of his jacket that looked just like a gun we saw in some of our history books. I didn’t ask him about it, but I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be a secret, so I’m only telling you. You’ll keep my secret, won’t you? Good.

They go into town every Friday morning to sell off the crop and then buy groceries, and they’re back by Friday evening. Everyone helps unload the truck and trailer into the storehouse, and we usually finish up about the time Sister Laura and the rest of the kitchen staff has dinner set out for us. My job on Fridays is checking off the inventory list while everyone puts everything away. It’s the easiest job of all of them, but what I don’t like about it is that it’s also the time Sister Laura is making the brownies. So all the while, we’re out in the storehouse, putting things away, checking things off, and all we can smell are the brownies as they bake next door in the town’s kitchen.

Every Saturday is set up the same, too. We all work very hard for the first half of the day, getting everything done that we couldn’t finish in the rest of the week, and in the middle of the afternoon (just after we’ve cleaned up from lunch), we all go to the dining hall and Sister Laura and Brother Benjamin pass out the brownies for us to eat. Then we laugh and play games until dinner time, and when we go to sleep that night, we always have the most wonderful dreams.

And then, on Sunday, we have services again. The weeks go round and round, and all year long we have a very happy town and a very peaceful life.

Every fall, we take the cars that have been left abandoned inside New Providence (except for any abandoned police cars, which go to Brother Gregory for him to disassemble and use for spare parts) and donate them to one of the nearby car dealerships. We have a couple of agreements like this with businesses in the area. They help us, we help them, and everyone is happy.

Except for April. April is always a sad month. April is when we have God’s brownies.

You see, there are only enough spaces in the dining hall for fifty people. We have five long tables, with enough place settings and chairs for forty-eight of us, plus a couple of high chairs for the newest members of the family. But since they’re not supposed to eat chocolate until they’re well on their feet, whoever the two babies are don’t have to worry about the brownies yet anyway.

It never fails, though. Every year, around February or March, we find out that someone’s with child again, which means we’ll be at fifty and one before the year’s through, and that’s against the rules.

But God has a plan. God has brownies.

So around the last week of every April, Sister Laura makes up a big batch of brownies, and she and Brother Thomas sit up all night, praying over them. And that next day, we all come into the dining hall, and there they are. One little brown square on every small plate. And we take our seats and Brother Thomas leads us in a song and a prayer. After we’ve prayed, we all eat our brownies, and then we pray again.

When we’re done, we all feel better, and we take the body whoever God chose to die out to the big hole in the ground James and John have prepared, and we say goodbye.

So, here it is, now. That time of year again. I think I’ve told you enough of the story, haven’t I? Just that I’ve never had an apprentice before, so I want to be sure I explain it all to you like how it was explained to me a few years ago. I was your age, more or less, and the girl who explained it to me was moving into a different calling, so she passed the title and this little bottle on to me, just like I’m doing to you.

Tomorrow is brownie day again, and now comes our job. After tomorrow, you’re going to be Brother Benedict, and I’m going to be Brother Lawrence. And don’t give me that look, I can have a boy’s name if I want, and you know it. From here on, you’ll do just like we’ve done tonight. You’ll wait here in the warehouse until Brother Thomas and I have finished praying over the brownies, and then you’ll sneak into the room with this eye dropper and put just one drop on whichever brownie God has chosen for you. Don’t worry about choosing the right one, you’ll know.

Just like I know this year, we have to give the special drop to Sister Laura. Don’t worry; it won’t hurt her at all. I hear it’s just like falling asleep. And, thanks to the brownies, it should feel really happy for her right before she passes.

It will be perfect, you’ll see. You get used to it. You’ll just have to do it this one time every year, on this same night before we have God’s brownies, and in five years you’ll pass it on to someone else, and then they’ll become Brother Benedict, patron of poison. You understand how that works, now? Yes? Good.

Okay, there they go now. Let’s go in.

We just need to find Sister Laura’s brownie.