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Hollis went home alone. Annie had band practice, and Yulia was in study club.

He swung by the market to pick up some baking powder and allspice for Yulia’s bread.

Everyone had a patch of land to work here and people were generous to their neighbors if the soil yielded. The previous year Hollis planted sweet potatoes, onions, garlic, peanuts, carrots, turnips, and ginger. In the summer he did zucchini, tomatoes, basil, and cucumbers. Stuff that was easy to plant and had a high yield. They dried the garlic, onions, basil, peanuts, and potatoes. Pickled the cucumbers and turnips; canned the zucchini, tomatoes, and ginger.

His pa dug out an underground cellar a while ago to keep everything. It would be a year before the family went hungry. Hollis wasn’t the main cook, his ma was, but it was the only skill he’d been able to pick up easily. He spent most of his time with her anyway.

Hollis made the batter extra sweet for Yulia, sprinkled it with a little of their precious stock of pecans, but left the one for him and his ma plain. She wouldn’t mind.

He wrapped it in wax paper, walked it over to the nicer part of town, and stuffed it in Yulia’s mailbox so the crows couldn’t get to it.