When the town smells like nutmeg, you better take it as a warning

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I live in a place named Tattletoe, a place full of mystery. Where death smells like cinnamon and life smells like nutmeg. Everything here is in perfect symmetry. One portion of fear and one portion of happiness fed to the ideal obedient citizen. Perfectly balanced to ensure that the people who live here will do their work for the greater good. What kind of greater good? That's something only the committee members know. It's just all a big hoax if you ask me, but let's be real here, nobody asks.
It's not simply the fact that they are afraid to die. Of course, nobody believes that they will be the ones being punished. Ignorance can work wonders. And as long as the fear doesn't override the happiness, there is no need to change anything. As I said, life here can be pretty perfect. Although it does ask of some degree of discipline to be surrounded by all these wonderful goods, while not being allowed any.
Honestly smelling the wonderful creations of Mrs. Holly each day is probably what made me doubt our ways the most. How can they ask me to be surrounded by the most delicious things in the world but forbid me to have a taste? My mouth starts drooling just thinking about it. Sometimes I even dream about her pain au chocolat made with the richest dark chocolate I've ever seen. It straight out smells like pure luck. I haven't been able to stop thinking about the lemon bars we made the other day. The way Mrs. Holly slowly spread the zest of those bright yellow lemons over the hot and luscious bars. The lemons come from one of the many lemon trees of Tattletoe. Most of the fruits are being exported to some nearby towns but a few of them are sent to the bakery to be turned into sweet treats. The gardeners here must be very talented, the citrus fruits shine even brighter than the flowers. No wonder Mrs. Holly wore gloves as she prepared them. Oh and don't even get me started on the cupcakes she made! I would die for trying just one of these marvelous goods.
Well, I would literally die if I did.
--
With a broken hand I wasn't much use to Mrs. Holly. I would mostly just bring her more flour from the shelf or turn on the ovens. Work had gotten awfully boring but I kept coming each morning before sunrise. I would put on my apron and sit on the chair waiting for Mrs. Holly to give me a new task. A lot of times we just chatted and drank tea. I couldn't believe my luck. Especially after hearing what kind of jobs some of my neighbor kids were assigned to.
Magnolia Marble started working in the doll store. A place run by an older gentleman who single-handedly creates each and every single doll which in turn is being exported to children all over the world. I don't like going in there much, the place smells like chlorine and the dolls are probably the only products that I never wanted to own or even hold in my hands. They are the creepiest thing I've ever seen and I've been around a good portion of bizarre stuff. The resemblance they have with an actual human child is uncanny. You might be wondering what Magnolia has to do in the shop if the dollmaker is the only one in charge of production. Well, she has to go around town and collect items to make the dolls as realistic as possible. One of her jobs is collecting hair or other necessary parts. If she finds some hair in the barber places she is lucky. She only has to pick them from the ground. Unfortunately the hairs often belong to adults and are too thick and splintered for a doll. So often she will knock on doors of parents, mainly the ones with many children. As you might imagine, parents are not often happy with that but if she doesn't find enough hair, the dollmaker gets angry with her. Though if you look at it from the bright side, at least Magnolia never gets tempted to take any of the products she's surrounded by.
The dollmaker uses those hairs, sometimes teeth, even nails but only the ones that are gentle and nice, and those are made into something I hope you never encounter in your life.
If you've ever come across a doll that just made the hairs on your back turn, a doll that simply seemed to be radiating pure evil, a doll that made you question your own sense of sanity. Well, chances are it was produced in Tattletoe's doll store.

--
"Did you hear the news? Mrs. Musters is gonna have her child soon. It might even be born today!" I said towards Mrs. Holly who was preparing some sort of dough.
The moment those words left my mouth, Mrs. Holly's metal whisk slipped from her hands and loudly hit the ground of the bakery. The batter was splashing everywhere. I quickly got up to pick up the whisk and clean up. Mrs. Holly didn't move, for a good moment or two she just kept staring into the distance. She looked both scared and angry at the same time. Then I remembered how she had lost all her children and felt awful mentioning somebody else becoming a mother. This must be especially painful for her. And then she has to be the one who spreads the smell of nutmeg for the newborn. I can only imagine what kind of torture that must be. Thinking about it, I wondered how that tradition with nutmeg arose. I know she tries to overshadow the smell of death when she bakes something with cinnamon but there is no reason for overshadowing the smell of new life, right? It's a celebration.
Maybe it's part of making the people happy. Nutmeg is in a lot of holiday dishes so maybe that's why they like it.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled after cleaning up.
"Oh?" Mrs. Holly shook her head like she was coming back to her senses "why are you apologizing, child" she laughed. "Those are some wonderful news. A child, how lovely." Her words were nice but the way she spoke made it sound incredibly insincere.
"Hmm, my mum thought it was wonderful as well. She repeatedly set how the Musters' keep getting gifted. Guess because they already have like a dozen kids"
"And they're planning on having even more. Some people just can't seem to get enough, can they?" Mrs. Holly said in a melodic voice.
"Well, I don't. I don't think I want any children at all if I'm honest."
She smiled at me with that sad expression she had when she broke my hand.
"You know what this means though, Deborah? We will need to get baking! Will you be a dear and go down to the market to get us nutmeg? As many seeds as you can get your hands on. Stress that they are needed for the bakery! From the looks of Mrs. Musters she might even be expecting twins. I was thinking of making some gingerbread men, how does that sound?"
"Sounds nice but it isn't Christmas, where will they be exported to?" I asked.
"We won't export them. They are for the fresh parents," she responded.
I wasn't sure if I could ask but this did sound very strange. I started furrowing my brow. Mrs. Holly caught my gaze and nervously laughed.
"I know what you're thinking. Our baked goods are not made for the citizens of Tattletoe. There is one small exception though. New parents always receive many baskets full of gifts, good nobody else can get, including something made by me."

--
I kept my purple apron on as I made my way to the market. Everything on the market was given away for free, those were the goods we were allowed to consume. However, some products were sparer than others and Mrs. Holly stressed how she needed as much nutmeg as possible. Having the apron would give me some more credibility. Everyone knew and respected Mrs. Holly's bakery after all.
The market was particularly well visited that day. Townspeople of Tattletoe were walking from stall to stall, enjoying all the new items that were being presented. The market ranged from fine drinks to delicious food, toys for children, clothes, and anything else you might need.
I didn't stop at any of the usual stalls though, I was here on a mission.
"Nutmeg or cinnamon?" the spice guy asked as I moved up to his stall. I guess he had noticed my apron.
"Nutmeg" I exclaimed.
"Thank god" he took a breath and laughed. "I'm all out of cinnamon, people have been misbehaving a lil lately" he winked at me and handed me a small paper bag with some nutmeg.
"Uhm, I don't think this will be enough," I said.
"This is more than enough, girl! Too much nutmeg can make you all woozy goozy and if you have too much... well then Mrs. Holly will need more cinnamon soon?" he jokingly said.
I shrugged.
"Mrs. Holly said I should get as much as possible. Apparently they're having twins."
The spice guy shook his head in disbelief as he packed up all the nutmeg he had.

--
Mrs. Holly was baking all day. She had stopped the production of any other bread, cookies or cakes. Only gingerbread men were coming out of the oven. The ventiltion system was spreading the fragrance all over Tattletoe. The new Musker offspring was born that afternoon.
Mrs. Holly was right. They were twins.
She packed the gingerbread in a big beautiful basket and asked me to bring it to the Muskers. On my way up to their house I met Magnolia and she asked to come along with me. She needed some hair.
"The Muskers usually let me take as much as I want. Makes me feel even worse for those children but gotta do the job, you know?" Magnolia said with a careless look on her face. Working at the doll store had toughened her up. She used to be my most optimistic friend.
"Why do you feel bad for the kids?" I asked.
"Well, I've been in their home a couple times. Always made me wanna leave right away again. They are some of those folks that collect children for the perks."
"You mean the gifts?"
"Uhu. Though I do get it. The stuff you get is so much better than anything they have at the market. Tattletoe's way of making parents produce new kids.." She had gotten a lot more skeptical as well.
"Ssht, Magnolia" I whispered. "don't get us in trouble."
"Come on, Debbie, this is like common knowledge. Nobody really wants to have children here, the ones that do are just heartless or don't know better."
I got the idea that the Musters belonged to that first group when their father opened the door for us. His eyes went right to the basket and he pushed his five-year-old son away who was reaching for the gingerbread men. He laughed it off and opened the door wider up so we could walk right inside.
"Just drop it off on that table, love. Magnolia if you need anything, Joe's losing more teeth lately"
"Just hair today, Mr. Musters. We have more than enough teeth at the moment." She shot me a disgusted look and walked upstairs.

--
It only took a few days. It hit Mr. Muster first. Nobody spoke of his death but I'm sure it was painful. Mrs. Musters followed him shortly after. I don't think their children were too sad though. From what I saw in their house that day, those kids hadn't seen happiness in a long time. Not with parents as greedy as theirs. I'm not sure if anyone is suspecting Mrs. Holly and her baked goods. I'm not even sure if the committee knows, or maybe they do but don't care. The Musters had made enough children already who would be having grandchildren, making sure the population was increasing.
It made me see Mrs. Holly in a new light though. This sweet old lady kept surprising me in new ways all the time, but at the same time she is still the most mysterious woman I know. I wondered whether she did it in spite. You could think that she did it because she lost all her children while those people had so many. But I know Mrs. Holly and that wouldn't be her style. She knows that she is tied to this town and she is coping with it in her own little way. Or at least that's my interpretation, I wouldn't dare to ask.
They tell us that there are happiness and fear and nothing in-between. In Tattletoe death smells like cinnamon and life smells like nutmeg but now I know that sometimes the fragrances get mixed.

Posted by u/likeeyedid

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