Alexander Mccall Smith

by The Perfect Hamburger;Other Delicious Stories

  "I'm sorry," said Katie. "They're all sold out."

  "But we've come all this way and we expected doughnuts," said a disappointed voice. "You can't let us down."

  "But they're all gone," explained Katie. "They were so good that everybody bought more than one."

  "Yes," said Jim, coming to Katie's defense. "It's not our fault."

  "Yes, it is," one shopper called out angrily. "You should have had enough doughnuts to go around."

  "I'm going to complain to the principal," somebody in the back said. "You just wasted everybody's time."

  Jim looked around helplessly. He thought it was unfair that they were being blamed for the fact that the doughnuts sold out. And if somebody complained to Mrs. Craddock, then they probably would not be allowed to have the sale again.

  And it soon looked as if he was right.

  That Monday morning, Mrs. Craddock called him into her office. She looked angry, and Jim's heart sank at the thought of what she might say.

  "There's been a complaint," she began. "In fact, there have been two complaints—from very angry people."

  Jim hung his head.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "All the doughnuts sold out so quickly. We had no idea it would only take fifteen minutes."

  Mrs. Craddock nodded.

  "I understand that, Jim," she said. "I know it wasn't your fault. But the problem is that if you don't have enough doughnuts, then you're going to have disappointed people. And you know how people are—they'll blame the school for something like that, even though it's nobody's fault."

  Jim realized that what she said was right. But he was very unwilling to give up his idea.

  "Give us another chance," he pleaded. "We'll get more doughnuts for next Saturday. Please."

  "But how are you going to do that?" asked Mrs. Craddock. "Surely the three of you won't have the time to make that many?"

  Jim racked his brain for a solution. Once again, one of his brilliant ideas seemed to float into his head.

  "We'll get other people to make some too," he said. "We'll have enough. I promise."

  Mrs. Craddock thought for a minute. Then she said, "One more chance, then. We'll see how things go next Saturday morning."

  Jim thanked her and went off to tell the good news to Katie and Mark.

  "That's nice," said Katie. "But who's going to make more doughnuts? You tell me that!"

  Of course Jim had no answer. He thought about it all that day, and he thought about it the next morning too. He asked some of his other friends if they would make doughnuts for him, but they shook their heads and said no. It wasn't that they didn't want to help Mr. Pride, it's just that making doughnuts was difficult, and something they thought they probably couldn't do.

  As he walked home that afternoon, Jim thought that he would probably have to go to Mrs. Craddock and tell her that they would cancel the next sale. He had promised her that there would be enough doughnuts, but he now thought that it was very unlikely that he would be able to keep his promise.

  Then, he stopped in his tracks. He had had another brilliant idea! This time, it was even more brilliant than his other ideas.

  "Yes," he said to himself. "What a marvelous idea!"

  Turning around, he raced over to Katie's house.

  Katie had not been expecting him. She set aside her homework and listened to Jim as he explained his idea to her.

  "An e-mail chain?" she said. "What's that?"

  "Well," said Jim. "I've never actually started one, but what people do is write to somebody else and ask them to write to another person. And then these people each write to more people, and so it goes. Eventually hundreds and hundreds of people end up writing e-mails."

  "It sounds kind of silly," said Katie. "I don't see the point. And anyway, what does it have to do with doughnuts?"

  Jim grinned. Then, his voice lowered, he explained more of his idea.

  "We each send an e-mail to one other person and ask them to send us a few doughnuts. That won't be hard. And they won't mind doing it if they know it's for a good cause. Then they each write an e-mail to another person and they ask them to send some doughnuts. And so it goes. Eventually we should have enough doughnuts."

  Katie listened to him, her mouth wide open. She had heard Jim come up with some extraordinary ideas before, but this one was surely the most extraordinary.

  "But " she said. "But . . ."

  "Please," said Jim. "Please, let's try. It can't hurt."

  Katie was not convinced. She wasn't sure e-mail chains were a good idea.

  "Well," she said, after a while, "we could try, I guess."

  "Good," said Jim. "Now, where's your computer? We should get these e-mails sent right away."

  Waiting for the Mail

  It did not take long to write the e-mails. Katie had an aunt who was a very good cook; she wrote to her. Jim wrote to a friend of his mother's, who lived on the other side of town, and then he wrote to his older cousin as well. He wasn't sure whether the cousin would help, but there was always a chance.

  Our school janitor's car has been stolen, the e-mails said. We are trying to raise money to help him buy another one, and so we are having a doughnut sale every Saturday. Please could you help us by making some doughnuts and bringing them to us as soon as you can? If you can't bring them, you can send them through the mail. Then, could you write to another person who you think might help and ask them to do the same?

  "I hope it works!" Jim said to himself as he sent off the e-mails.

  The e-mails were sent on Tuesday. It was too early for anything to happen on Wednesday, but by Thursday morning Jim was already beginning to worry. When he came home from school that day, he asked his mother whether anything had been delivered for him, but she shook her head.

  "What are you expecting?" she asked inquisitively.

  "Oh, just a few doughnuts," Jim replied.

  Then he told her about the plan. She looked very doubtful.

  "It won't work," she said. "Chain e-mails never work. People never pay attention to them."

  "I know that," said Jim. "But this one is for a very good cause."

  "We'll see," said his mother. "In the meantime, we had better make some doughnuts for Saturday. You can't rely on any doughnuts appearing out of thin air!"

  So Jim and his mother made the same amount of doughnuts that they had all made the previous week. The doughnuts looked and smelled every bit as delicious as the previous ones had, but Jim knew that there would never be enough to satisfy everybody who turned up at the sale.

  Friday morning came, and Jim anxiously awaited the arrival of the mailman.

  "Any packages for me?" he inquired as the mailman brought the mail to the front door.

  "Sorry," said the mailman, looking at a list. "Nothing here for you. What are you waiting for?"

  "Doughnuts," said Jim sadly. "Lots and lots of doughnuts."

  The mailman laughed. "Just the sort of package I like to deliver," he joked. "Well, I hope they arrive soon!"

  At school that day, Jim told Katie and Mark the bad news. The other two had not expected to receive anything, since the e-mails had all given Jim's address. They were both very disappointed.

  "Tomorrow will be the last sale," said Mark. "There'll be the same kind of trouble and Mrs. Craddock will be furious."

  "I know," said Jim dejectedly.

  "There's always tomorrow," said Katie. "Remember that people haven't had much time."

  Jim would have liked to agree, but he now had no hope that any doughnuts would arrive before it was time to start the sale.

  "Maybe we should cancel it now," Mark suggested. "We could put up a sign at the front of the school. That might be the best thing to do."

  Both Jim and Katie thought that this was not a good idea. They would go ahead, they said, even if it involved facing more disappointed customers. At least some people would get the doughnuts they wanted, which, after all, was better than nothing.

  The next morning, Jim did not even
think about the mailman. So he was very surprised when the doorbell rang and his mother answered the door.

  "Jim!" she called from the hall. "Package for you. Or should I say, packages!"

  Jim rushed out of his room to see the mailman standing in the doorway with two large boxes in his arms.

  "These are the most delicious-smelling packages I've delivered for a very long time," he said, smiling widely. "Doughnuts, I'd guess!"

  Jim took the boxes gratefully and rushed with them to the kitchen. He gently unwrapped them and took out the plastic bags that were inside. Within the bags, carefully wrapped in greaseproof paper, were doughnuts—dozens of them.

  He laid the doughnuts on a tray. They were marvelous. Some had jelly in them, some had almond custard. Some were plain. But they all—every single one of them— looked delicious!

  When Katie and Mark arrived at Jim's house, expecting to have to carry only those doughnuts that Jim and his mother had made, they were astonished to see the array that was set out on the kitchen table.

  "But there are hundreds," said Katie. "Look at all of them!"

  "Yes," said Jim. "Half of them were made by your aunt, and half by my mother's friend."

  "There will definitely be enough for everyone now," said Mark, who was itching to try one of the doughnuts himself. "In fact, there'll be too many."

  He reached out to pick up a particularly mouthwatering doughnut, but Jim caught him by the wrist before he could touch it.

  "No," he said. "We asked people to make them for Mr. Pride, not for us."

  "If there are any left over, you can eat those," said Jim's mother. "Nobody would mind then."

  But there weren't any left over. Again, the sale was well-attended, and there was a large crowd gathered in front of the school, but the number of doughnuts on sale was exactly right, and at the end of the sale there was not a single one left.

  Jim glowed with pride as he told his mother about how well the sale had gone and how none of the customers had gone away empty-handed.

  "I'm very glad to hear it," she said. "Because while you were away, something arrived for you. It's in the kitchen."

  Jim was curious to see what it was. He went straight to the kitchen and looked inside. There, on the table, was a large box. Just by sniffing, Jim was able to tell what it contained.

  Doughnuts!

  The Doughnut Deluge

  The doughnuts had come from Jim's older cousin, who had dropped them at the house himself. On top of the box was a note.

  Dear Jim, it read. I'm very happy to help you with your doughnut sale. Here are some that I have baked myself. I also wrote to two friends, who I am sure will help you. Good luck!

  Jim was delighted. These doughnuts could be put in the fridge and kept until next Saturday's sale. Together with the next batch that he and his mother would make, there would be enough for that week. With his mother's help, he stored all the doughnuts away, taking only the tiniest crumb of one to taste for himself. It was superb!

  That afternoon, there was a knock on the door. Jim answered it to find a delivery man standing outside, holding a box.

  "Is your name Jim Hargreaves?" he asked in a businesslike voice.

  "Yes," said Jim, eyeing the box. He had a good idea what it contained.

  "Delivery for you," said the man. "Please sign here."

  Jim signed the receipt and took the box into the kitchen. This time the doughnuts were from somebody he did not know at all. It was one of the people to whom Katie's aunt had written, and it contained three dozen large doughnuts, all dripping with red jelly.

  Jim sighed. It was good to get more doughnuts, of course, but the fridge was full. These would have to be put in the freezer, and then unfrozen in time for the next sale. So he and his mother popped them all into bags and put them in the freezer.

  "I think we'll have some left over next week," said Jim. "Maybe I can give them to people in my class to share with their friends."

  "Well, let's hope no more arrive," said Jim's mother, licking the jelly off her fingers. "We'll have to start putting them in the basement if they do."

  No more doughnuts arrived that day, or on the following day, which was Sunday. But on Monday, when Jim returned from school, he knew that something was wrong the second he walked in the door.

  "I've had enough of these doughnuts!" his mother called out in an exasperated voice. "Another six batches arrived today. Sixl This is really going to have to stop."

  Jim made his way down to the basement to see the new doughnuts. They had come from all kinds of people—some delivered by hand, and others through the mail. Everybody had written a note, saying how they had not broken the chain and had written to more of their friends to ask them to join in. They were all sure that the friends would be happy to help.

  Jim did not know what to do. When he had started the e-mail chain, he had no idea that it would be so effective. But now that he thought about it, he realized that an enormous number of doughnuts could result if everybody got other people to make a batch. It was like a picture of a tree, with roots spreading out below, more numerous and widespread the further away one got from the top. And what would the end be? A thousand doughnuts? Several thousand? Even more?

  Jim swallowed hard. Where would he even begin to put a million doughnuts? He had no idea.

  By the time Saturday arrived, you could smell the doughnuts all through the house. Katie and Mark had helped make more posters, which they hoped would attract more people to the sale, but even if many more people came this week, could they possibly hope to sell all the doughnuts that had arrived, and were still arriving?

  On Saturday morning, they started to take the doughnuts to the sale very early. They put out extra tables, but even with these, there was not enough room to display them all. And when people came to buy, they were given not only the number they asked for, but six free ones as well. Everybody was delighted with this, and some people even had the nerve to ask whether they could get their six free ones without buying any doughnuts in the first place.

  At the end of the morning, when they had served their last customer, the exhausted three looked into the last of the boxes to see what was left. There, inside, sticking to the bottom of the box, were three large and succulent-looking doughnuts. They each took one and ate it hungrily. Then, when everything was cleaned up, they all went home.

  "I don't want to see another doughnut for at least a week," Mark said. "I'm sick of them."

  "So am I," said Katie. "I'll probably dream about them tonight."

  Jim said nothing. He was worried about what he might see when he got home.

  And he had good reason to worry. Because there, in front of the house, were the morning's deliveries.

  More doughnuts!

  Katie Has an Idea

  Jim's mother was sitting in the kitchen with her head in her hands.

  "We're going to have to do something about all these doughnuts," she said. "We can't take any more. I knew this e-mail chain would get out of hand. You're going to have to write to people and ask them not to send any more."

  Jim scratched his head.

  "I wish I could," he said. "But I don't know who to write to. The e-mails have been sent all over the place by now. I could never find out where they went."

  "But we just can't take more doughnuts," wailed his mother. "Where are we going to put them? I had to put ten boxes in the basement this morning. There are doughnuts in my bedroom and doughnuts under your bed. And that's just from today's deliveries. What on earth is going to happen when more arrive next week?"

  Jim could not answer this question. "I will have to have another brilliant idea," he told himself. But the trouble with his brilliant ideas was that they did not always come when they were needed.

  On Monday, when the mailman brought more doughnuts to the front door, Jim asked him to take them back.

  "I can't do that," the mailman said, shaking his head. "That's against our policy. Once a package is sent to you, you have
to take it."

  Reluctantly, Jim took the packages and stacked them in the kitchen. As he stood over them, wondering what to do, a brilliant idea came into his head. He would give the doughnuts away! All he had to do was put a sign outside the house saying FREE DOUGHNUTS! INQUIRE WITHIN! All the neighbors could help themselves.

  So the sign went up, and the neighbors did take advantage of the offer. Some brought large bags and took away dozens at a time. Others were less greedy but still took a few.

  At the end of the day, hundreds of doughnuts had been given away. The following day, though, fewer people came by for their free doughnuts. Everybody had enough to last them for some time. Unfortunately, on that very day there were twenty more deliveries of doughnuts as the e-mail chain was sent to more and more people. This meant that even after giving away so many doughnuts, they were left with as many as they had in the first place. There seemed to be no escape!

  Jim discussed the problem with Katie and Mark.

  "We bit off more than we can chew here," he said. "Our house is full of doughnuts, and they keep coming."

  Katie and Mark were silent. They could think of nothing to say, and although they were sorry for Jim, they were both secretly relieved that the doughnuts were going to his house and not to theirs.

  Then Katie came up with an idea. "If we can't sell these doughnuts," she said, "then maybe somebody else could."

  Jim looked at her blankly. "But we tried giving them away," he said. "We have too many, even to do that. There's nobody left in this town who wants any more doughnuts."

  "There might be somebody," said Katie. "Can you think of who it could be?"

  Jim frowned. Who could possibly want to take thousands of doughnuts? Then it dawned on him.

  "Do you mean Mr. Windram?" he burst out.

  "Yes," said Katie, smiling. "Mr. Wallace Win-dram, the supermarket king. If anybody can take the doughnuts off our hands, it'll be him."

  Katie's idea was certainly a promising one. Mr. Wallace Windram was the most well-known and richest person for miles around. He lived in a large house at the edge of town, and from there he managed the great business that he had built up single-handedly. Throughout the country you could see his supermarkets-massive, barnlike buildings, filled to the brim with tasty food.