Nana’s banana bread turned my parents inside out

Mom always said that Nana was psychotic, and right after Tommy was born, Nana got really upset when my mom made some boundaries. I've never witnessed a more sour woman in my life as her face puckered up and she shook her head at the new rules. Nana said she would try to tolerate that kind of nonsense and stormed out the front door. The days after, I could hear Nana and Mom arguing over the phone about some rule that shouldn't have been stated in the first place, like how often she gets to see her grandkids, and since Tommy has been born, it's been cut from every weekend to once a month. Mom would tell Nana that her craziness was raining down on us kids, and that it was time to introduce more logic into our minds than witchcraft and stargazing. I was crafting dolls out of twigs like Nana taught me when Mom broke and made the call.

That's when Nana started coming over for any excuse to see Tommy and me, and her tricks at first always worked as Nana wiggled her way inside and into the family room where Tommy and Dad were sitting with me on the coach. Nana always brought us goodies when she came over, too. Nana always made some kind of fresh-baked pastry and brought them over with her, and the recipes I knew came from her special little book with a leather red cover that Nana keeps on the top shelf in her kitchen.

Everything Nana baked was mouthwateringly delicious, and not even my parents could deny the sweet pastries that Nana handed out, still warm from the oven. Once she brought her specially made chocolate chip cookies, with a nostalgic taste you can never quite put into words. It was like you had a memory intertwined with this particular taste, and your mind just couldn't grasp what it was. Whatever the memory was, it made everyone feel warm and loved.

Nana also made a special pie from the recipe in her secret red book that gave your brain an overload of endorphins, and the positivity that broke free from that delicious blueberry pie made everyone get in a good mood, even if you were feeling the worst in your life. It was like her baking was magic, and with spending so much time with Nana, I definitely believed in the wide stretch of imaginable wonderments, such as working spells and potions meant to kill. Nana spoke to me about everything.

Mom noticed Nana’s sporadic visits, and she began putting an end to that, for if she no longer meant every weekend, it sure didn't mean every other day at our house with baked goods and thrilling memories. Mom was always mad at Nana for showing up, but always let her in with the aromas of the pastries beckoning to her desires. This time was different, though, as I saw Mom plug her nose when she answered the door and spoke with a very strong, authoritative tone, as I heard Mom say Nana could not come to the house anymore. Nana went away, throwing a fit and causing a scene on the front lawn with mom and Nana screaming at each other in a language I didn't know.

So mom was finally putting her foot down, and Nana was not happy about it, and for a while we didn't hear from Nana. There was no knocking on the front door with a basket of bread or cupcakes, and there were no bribes of muffins and brownies. It was an odd feeling being away from Nana for so long, and I wondered why Mom felt so relieved about this. Nana was great, and she was so kind, with a warm, caring spirit. She had never wronged anyone who didn't deserve it, at least as far as I have witnessed her cast curses upon men and give poisons out to women from her shop. I also knew the people you did that to were bad and had a cursed spirit that needed to be dealt with immediately. Nana was tricky when it came to her sales, for she gave you what she thought you needed, not what the customer requested, and she did this by looking into their soul and feeling past their beating heart.

I guess those are some of the reasons why we can't see Nana and why Nana can't be a big part of Tommy’s life like she was in my own life. I didn't like being away from Nana, and I would argue with my mother about going to see her. I couldn't drive yet, and Mom wouldn't even let Nana come get me. It was an unfair situation, and I didn't like not being able to see Nana as much as I always had. I just didn't understand. Then one morning, there was a soft knock on the door, and I looked out the front window to see Nana and her baked goods. I ran to the door before my mom could, and I welcomed Nana inside.

Mom was furious until Nana handed her a pan of fresh banana bread, saying Tommy and I couldn't have it because it was too boozy for children our age, and that it was marketed specifically for my mother and father's consumption. Nana didn't stay long because she said she didn't want to cross my mom’s boundaries, which she said with a venomous spat rather than a voice of understanding. After Nana left, I saw her peel out of our driveway as I waved goodbye with tears in my eyes.

I watched the banana bread sit until the next morning, when mom and dad were eating it with their morning coffee. I watched as they ate it slice by slice until it was finished, and I was left alone with my mother in the kitchen, and my dad went upstairs to get ready for the day. When I finished breakfast, I went to the living room and sat down on the coach before looking out the window and seeing Nana parked across the street, waiting for something. I was about to tell my mom, but I heard her start to scream from the kitchen.

I bolted up and ran as I heard my father’s cry from upstairs. My mother was in the kitchen by the counter, holding her face with her hands as she cried out. When she moved her hands, I let out a scream as blood poured from every exit her head had. She fell to her knees in agony, and I ran to her, afraid and wanting to help ease her agony. I then watched as the top of her head began to peel open like a banana. I could see her skull as the flesh began to fall strip by strip from her face to her midsection. Her skin slipped off her muscles and caused a puddle of sludge beneath where my mother sat, and her lower body’s skin was curling up and as her toes twirled inward and her legs twirled into her knees.

Dad fell down the stairs as all his skin had completely slipped off his body, and he was slipping all over with warm blood on his feet. His eyes were the most shocking of all as they popped roundly out of his head like a bulbous balloon. I could hear Tommy beginning to cry in the living room, but I was crying too hard myself to comfort him at this time of true devastation. Dad slid to mom, who was curled up on the floor, and he picked her up and sat her up against his side while he held her against an agonizing burn of pure muscle against the raw elements. I watched them whisper to one another before they died in each other's arms.

That's when the front door flew open, and Nana came in to soothe my crying brother. She held him against her chest and held her hand out for me as she led me out of my home. She said we would pack up later, but right now we needed to go to her house while she called the police about this tragic event. I never stopped crying even as Tommy was soothed by his pacifier. When we got to Nana’s house, she wiped my tears and held me against her tall, bony body. She told me everything was going to be okay and that my brother and I would live with her from now on.

That’s what I wanted, wasn't it? To be with Nana all the time. I don't know how my parents died the way they did, but I always suspected the banana bread that Nana made for Mom and Dad, and how she told them it was made with extra love. I shivered as I looked at Nana and wondered if she was capable of doing such a thing. I didn't think about it anymore as I locked the thought away and ran to Nana for some warmth and comfort. Nana adopted us, and she raised us to believe in the damned and the spirit man, which you can trade with if you have something he desires.

Nana said we didn't have to worry about the bodies because the spirit man was going to clean up the mess, and somehow he did, as in the papers, the lettering read suicide homicide, and that’s all Nana told me about the paper. I couldn't figure out how that worked with how devastating my parents’ death had been, but I didn't think about it. I was just happy that we had Nana, and our Nana loved us so much.