Going Bananas by Angela Maggioncalda

Sunlight lazily crept in behind the drapes of the 5^th floor apartment window. The echo of distant church bells marking the hour blended in with the urban symphony of the downtown streets below.

“Abigail!” a tall, pale man called, breaking the sleepiness of the apartment. He stepped into the apartment’s living room, his long, black, straight hair pulled back in its usual ponytail. He wore slim black pajama pants and a forest green tee shirt. Also in the room were two of the roommates. The first, an average-sized man with honey-blond hair, lounged on the couch in his usual black, graphic hoodie and white-washed jeans. The other, a fit, natural red head, worked on her laptop. Her long hair fell well past the edge of her cherry red blouse and lay on her dark jeans.

“Ok, so this is when Godfrey is annoyed but not actually really mad,” the young man commented to the woman, trying to see if he had finally cracked the code of their usually unexpressive roommate.

“Why do you do that, Brandon?” Godfrey asked, returning to his typical monotone pattern of speech.

“What?” Brandon asked, hoping whatever Godfrey was annoyed about wouldn’t mean bad news for him.

“Make commentary on my speech.” Godfrey replied, turning toward his roommates. “My life does not need a voiceover.”

“Why not? Half of our life is a sitcom either way.” The woman smirked.

“I’ll try to remember that, Abigail. Ermina!” he called, waiting for their final roommate to join them.

“Coming, Godfrey!” Ermina responded shortly after she skipped into the living room. Her orange, boy-cut hair was still a little wet and a few droplets fell onto her white T-shirt. “So what’s going on?” She asked, putting her hands into the pockets of her pink skinny jeans and smiling. Godfrey sighed slightly.

“Abigail, why didn’t you eat the bananas we got from the grocery store?” He gestured to the kitchen counter where three overly ripe black bananas sat.

“We didn’t have any peanut butter.” Abigail answered.

“Abigail, you don’t need peanut butter to eat a banana,” Godfrey replied, confused as usual at his partner’s thinking.

“Well, duh, you don’t need peanut butter to eat bananas, but if you want them to taste really good, you do! The peanut butter makes it extra sweet and adds protein and, if you get chunky, which is the best, you also get a crunch along with the creamy fruit, and why couldn’t you or Brandon eat the bananas if you realized that they were getting too ripe?”

“Abigail, I’m the one who told you all of that and now, because of it, you’ve practically forgotten what an actually banana tastes like,” Godfrey said before answering her question. “And we didn’t eat them because you said if any of us touched your food that you’d prank the entire apartment.”

“Fine. The next time we go get bananas, I’ll have them without peanut butter. And you know I don’t really mean it when I say that. We share our food just like we share where we live. So you can have the bananas.” Abigail smiled back as Godfrey shook his head.

“What can I do with over-ripe bananas?” he asked.

“You could make pancakes,” Ermina answered from the dining table where she now sat with Brandon. Godfrey raised an eyebrow as Ermina beamed. “I heard that if you take ripe bananas and add eggs you can make a healthy substitute pancake batter.”

“Bleech.” Abigail responded in disgust. “Pancakes need to be made with flour. Banana is only good for a topping.”

“Well, then that’s out of the window because those bananas are too ripe to be a topping,” Ermina said, looking at the sad fruit.

“Why not make a banana bread?” Brandon suddenly exclaimed, half tripping over himself as he stumbled off the couch.

“But I don’t know how to make banana bread.” Godfrey replied. “Well, I suppose I could simply look up a recipe on with my phone-”

“No need,” Brandon interrupted. “My mom made banana bread all the time for my sisters and me. I’ve practically got the recipe memorized,” Brandon said confidently, crossing his arms over himself.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Ermina said. “I’ve never actually had banana brea,d but I’m sure it’ll make our apartment smell great.”

“That does sound pretty good,” Abigail said with a smile.

“Okay then. I guess we can make some banana bread.” Godfrey said, walking into their kitchen.

“We?” Brandon asked, confused but slightly following.

“You normally ask us to leave you be when you work in the kitchen,” Ermina commented as Godfrey took out some measuring utensils.

“Yeah, I really don’t want a repeat of what happened when you and Abigail first tried cooking together.” Brandon confessed, looking over at Abigail.

“Normally, yes,” Godfrey admitted, taking out two bowls from the cabinet. “However, if Brandon is going to be giving me the recipe and directions, he’ll need to be in the kitchen, and it seems only fair to open it to everyone then.”

“Aww. Thank,s Godfrey!” Abigail said, embracing Godfrey from behind. “But we are actually going to spend the afternoon with our girlfriends.” She smiled as she jumped over to Ermina and linked arms with her.

“What? When did this happen?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, it’s been planned for a while,” Ermina admitted. “After her birthday party last month, Kana suggested that we should try to have a set night when we're able to relax and catch up with each other. We were even able to get Amira and Cleo to join.”

“You really need a set night to relax?” Brandon asked, suspicious.

“Aw, come on Brandon, you can’t tell me your sisters never had a special night just to spend with each other or their other girlfriends,” Abigail said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Brandon furrowed his brow in disbelief.

“We won’t be gone all night. I’m sure we’ll be back by time the bread is finished,” Ermina said as the two red heads walked toward the door. “If you get worried, we’re only a call away.”

“And if we don’t answer the first time, we might just be having too much fun to hear the phone,” Abigail added, zipping up her tall, black boots as Ermina slipped on her black sneakers.

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Godfrey replied, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

“Bye, boys!” Abigail called before closing the door behind her. Godfrey rolled his eyes slightly and Brandon joined him in the kitchen.

“Do you think they actually talk about us when they spend time with the others?” Brandon asked, lifting himself up onto the countertop.

“I feel whatever they choose to discuss in private is theirs to keep in private.” Godfrey responded, putting the basic baking ingredients out on the counter. “Now, what do we need to make banana bread?”

“Um,” Brandon thought, looking at the items before him. “Well, we definitely need the flour, sugar, and salt. Gonna need some eggs and I think baking soda. Or is it powder, or both?” Brandon paused, touching his finger to his chin.

“Are you sure you remember the recipe?” Godfrey asked, setting aside the for-sure ingredients.

“Yes. And it was both because that’s why I can never tell which is which.” The blond said with a smile. “And we’re going to need sour cream.”

“Sour cream?”

“Wait, no, it was cream cheese.” 

Godfrey rolled his eyes as he looked in the fridge. Luckily we actually have that. “Is that all?”

“Yup. That’ll do it.”

“So what do we do first?”

“Right, the first step is, to, uh, put the dry ingredients in one bowl and the wet in another.” 

Godfrey gave Brandon a cautious glance. “Okay, so how much do we put in?” he asked, taking the measuring spoons.

“We need, um...” Brandon paused, his mouth still open as he tried to remember how much to use. 

“Uh, let me call my mom,” he said as he hopped off the counter and left the kitchen area.

There were a few moments of silence as Brandon waited for an answer.

“Hey Mom!” Brandon answered, his voice tight. “I need… No, I don’t need you to send me anything… No, I’m not in the hospital… No, I didn’t get kicked out of the apartment!” He finished raising his voice. “Mom, I was wondering… I’d love to, Mom, but actually I… Hi everyone!” he said with slightly forced enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Yeah. Uh huh. Love you all, too,” he finished with a smile.

Godfrey smiled to himself as he quietly watched Brandon speak to his family. As the youngest of 10, Brandon was never without someone looking after him. That along with having only sisters meant that any news coming from him was big news for the family.

“So, mom, what I was trying to ask you was how do we make your banana bread? … No we have plenty of food. One of my roommates took a few too many bananas from the grocery store and we need to use them.… Yes we got all the ingredients.…” A much longer paused followed as Brandon listened on the other end. “Great! Thanks Mom!... Yes I’ll tell you how it turns out. … Love you too. Bye.” Brandon hung up his phone with a smile.

“So what does it call for?” Godfrey asked, his own phone ready to take notes for all the amounts.

“1 cup sugar, 2 large eggs, 1 1/2 cup flour, 1 teaspoon baking soda and baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 cup mashed bananas, and finally one stick of cream cheese,” Brandon said, stepping over to preheat the oven. “All to be baked for 30 to 40 minutes.”

“What temperature?” Godfrey asked.

“Temperature?”

“For the oven,” Godfrey explained. “What should the oven be heated to?”

“Oh, um...” Brandon thought a moment. “325.”

Godfrey finished taking notes and began to work. Brandon put on some music as Godfrey mixed the dry ingredients together.

“Here,” Godfrey said as he handed Brandon a bowl with the bananas. “Mash those.”

“Are you sure you want to mash all of them?” Brandon asked, taking the spoon from Godfrey’s other hand.

“There’s no other use for them if we don’t use them now. And if we have more than the recipe needs, we’ll just do a double batch.”

“Oh, okay.” Brandon began to unpeel the fruit when his calm demeanor shut down. “Wait! Do we even have bread tins?”

“Brandon, do you remember what I made you to send home for Mother’s Day?” Godfrey asked calmly as he cracked the eggs into the larger bowl.

“Angel food cake since it’s my mom’s favorite,” he responded.

“And what did we put it in so it would travel easier?”

“We made it…in bread tins,” Brandon finished slowly as Godfrey took out two bread tins from the cabinet. “Honestly, we could open a restaurant. I mean you insisted we buy all the materials rather than just asking our neighbors.”

“Did you really think they would appreciate us asking them for a mixer every time Abigail decided we needed to have a midnight breakfast while studying?” Godfrey asked, taking the mashed bananas from Brandon. Brandon could only laugh in reply. “I know you grew up in a small town where it takes a village is not just a saying, but we in the city mainly do not want to be bothered.”

“You make it sound like everyone here is a jerk,” Brandon replied, finding the measuring cups needed for the dry ingredients.

“Listen, there’s a reason New York is famous for its taxi drivers,” Godfrey replied.

Soon the batter had been mixed and put into one of the bread pans. Just as Godfrey finished pouring, the oven sounded, ready for the tasty treat to be baked. After he had out the first pan in the oven, Godfrey turned around to see Brandon licking his finger as he sat on the countertop.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Brandon wiped his finger through the batter on the side of the bowl.

“Licking the bowl,” Brandon replied with a grin. “My favorite part when baking with my mother was cleaning up after we were done.”

“Is that all it takes?”

Brandon looked over at Godfrey, his eyes wide. He looked back down at the bowl sitting on the counter next to him, still half full with banana mash.

“Why didn’t you mix it all together?” Brandon asked, putting the bowl in his lap down on the counter and hopping off. “When you do a double batch, you always mix it together and just cook it over a longer period of time,” Hh said, miffed, as he hastily washed his hands.

“I wasn’t sure quite how much banana we had,” Godfrey answered him, beginning to measure out more flour. “I thought if we must go off book in terms of the recipe that we might as well have one loaf turn out how it’s meant to be.”

“Well, I guess you are the baker,” Brandon responded, knowing better than to further critique Godfrey’s method of baking.

In the end, they had just enough to make one more loaf, exactly to the recipe’s requirements. As Godfrey cleaned the utensils, Brandon went back to cleaning the bowl.

“The batter is always the best part,” Brandon said, putting finger in his mouth. “You want to try some?” he offered, holding the bowl out.

“No, thank you,” Godfrey answered, drying the measuring cup. “I’d prefer not to get salmonella.”

“Well, I’d like some!” a chipper voice called from the doorway. Abigail bounced into the room and stopped just in front of Brandon with the bowl. Ermina followed.

“So, how’d it turn out?” she asked as Abigail swiped her finger through the batter.

“If looks are to be trusted, perfect,” Godfrey replied, gesturing over to the two cooling loafs on the rack atop the oven.

“You haven’t tried it yet?” she asked.

“Godfrey insisted that we clean up before we eat it.” Brandon answered, rolling his eyes. “But I think since you’re here, we should cut a slice for everyone!” he said, putting the bowl down. He paused and, using a clean finger, took some batter out of the bowl. “How about a sampling?” he asked with a wink. Ermina blushed. She took the batter off Brandon’s finger with her own and tasted it.

“Mmm,” she hummed as she took her finger from her mouth. “Tastes like banana.”

Abigail looked over at Brandon and Ermina and then to Godfrey, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Come on, Godfrey,” she commanded, taking hold of the batter bowl, “you need to try some.” She went over to the sink and held the bowl.

“Thank you for bringing the bowl, but no thank you on the tasting,” he replied, trying to take the bowl from her.

“No,” the stubborn red head said again. She took another finger and collected a sampling of the batter and held it up to his face. “You need to try it.” Godfrey stared at her, almost in slight disbelief. He sighed but smiled, and licked the batter right off Abigail’s finger. Abigail’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed as Godfrey licked his lips.

“Tasty,” he agreed, politely taking the bowl from Abigail’s loose grip.

“How about I cut a piece for you, Ermina?” Brandon asked, looking back at the still-stunned Abigail.

“That sounds lovely.” She replied, equally amused by the pair.

Once Godfrey finally finished the dishes, with a little help from Abigail, they joined Brandon and Ermina to try their newest treat.

“So, how does everyone like it?” Brandon asked nervously as everyone finished their slices.

“I hated it!” Abigail said first. “It was so bad I had to finish it until the last crumb.”

“Thanks, Abigail.” Brandon said with a tired smile. After so many times of hearing that response, he knew it was a high compliment.

“It was wonderful, Brandon, Godfrey,” Ermina affirmed, folding her napkin. “That may be my favorite snack you’ve made for us.”

“Well, it came from Brandon’s mother,” Godfrey said, gesturing to his partner in the kitchen. “Please send my thanks to her for sharing the recipe with us.”

“Yup! It was delish!” Abigail agreed with a smile.

“I will,” Brandon said, already taking his phone out. “She’ll be over the moon knowing you all enjoyed her recipe.”

“Well, I think we need to make this again some time,” Abigail said, looking at Godfrey with approval.

“Not if this means you’ll continue forgetting to eat what you bring back from the store,” Godfrey responded, causing a round of laughter to echo in their warm apartment.