Page 73 of Beyond The Maples
When I'm done, he comes over, plopping round golden disks onto our plates. I blink at them. They remind me a little of the protein patties Willow made, and I smile at the memory, knowing these will taste infinitely better, if the smell is any indication.
My mouth waters, but I don't dig in, waiting for direction.
Chef sits down in front of me and pulls out what looks like a pill from one jar. He grabs the small dish and puts the hardened amber stone inside, and then drips a bit of water around the bottom. My eyes widen as the gem disintegrates in the liquid, turning into a thick brown goo as he stirs it.
I'm entranced. Is he about to poison me? What is that?
He pours some of the liquid goo over the disks. My head cocks as he does the same to mine.
"Eat," he demands, and my eyebrows pull together, staring down at my plate.
On the one hand, he could definitely be drugging me, but on the other, the smell is so intoxicating. Do I really care? Death by sweets is kind of alright with me, at this point.
I take a hesitant bite, and I feel like I’m free-falling. My taste buds ignite all at once at the flavour. The disks are fluffy, light, and sweet, and the goo on top is even sweeter. Its smooth, silky flavour causes an outburst from me.
"What is this?! I've never tasted anything so good in my entire life. I don’t even care if this is poisoned, I'll die happy," I mumble through a groan and another giant bite.
Chef barks out a laugh. "It's pancakes with maple syrup. No poison; I wouldn't waste such a delicacy on someone I was going to murder anyway."
I nod like that makes perfect sense, but then whathe said registers.
"Maple syrup? No way. How did you get this?" I ask, with a little awe lacing my words. The maple groves have been dead for decades.
"When the trees all started dying, some smart scientist extracted a whole bunch of it and figured out how to synthesize it. Apparently, this is not even as good as the real stuff, but still pretty delicious, if you ask me. It costs more than gold now because they don't make it anymore, but I have a sneaky private stock."
My fork flops down as I push my plate away. "And you wasted it on me?! You didn't have to do that you shouldn't have, honestly! I have no way to pay you back. I don't even know your real name!"
A little dread creeps up into me. What was I thinking, accepting such a gesture? I can't get my shit together today. Chef just chuckles and pushes the plate towards me again.
"Don't worry about it, kid. I, uhm... don't like seeing ladies cry. If I can shut them up with something good to eat, that's fine by me," he offers, and I eye him suspiciously. Chef is easy to read. He wears his emotions in his bushy, grey-riddled eyebrows. The years have weathered his face, but he still has a lot of life left in him. A spark that hasn't been extinguished just yet.
Picking up a large fork-filled bite, I say, "jokes on you, Chef. I am no lady."
He grins, shaking his head at me as we finish our food.
As we're cleaning up, I feel the need to fill the otherwise comfortable silence, still a little confused as to why he would show me such random kindness, and feeling a heavy unease.
"How long have you worked here in the kitchen?"
"Gods, almost fifteen years now," he says, drying a pan.
"Did you ever serve?" I ask curiously.
He frowns. "Why would you assume that?"
I point towards his leg. "The limp."
His eyes widen a bit, and but he nods slowly. "Yes, I did, then got hurt. But by that point I had no one left at home for me, and I'd always liked to cook, so I took this on."
"Do you have any family now?"
He sighs, "No. My sister disappeared about a decade ago. Never had the good fortune of starting a family of my own. The kitchen is my home now."
I freeze at his words.
"Your sister went missing? What happened?" I stumble over the words. It's not uncommon; people go missing often enough in New Providence. What's weird is how little people talk about it. But I feel the need to press with Chef, to ask him what his thoughts are. I can tell by his tone he clearly cared for his sibling.
"I don't have a clue. I was gone at the time. Came home, and she'd vanished. Poof. House empty, and friends and family at a loss about where she went. I searched for her for some time, but there's only so much you can do. Even as a soldier, I wasn't sanctioned to just roam the continent looking for her."
