The next morning, Loyala and Violet went downstairs to the kitchen.
“There
is nothing to EEEAT!” was the distressed cry that welcomed them as they entered
and saw a small woman bustling around the room, furiously opening and closing
cupboards.
“Um,
Cook? This is- I want you to meet my friend, Violet,” Loyala said timidly.
The
cook looked up quickly and made eye contact with Violet, then intensely held
her gaze for a long moment. “I know who you are,” she finally said in a solemn
tone.
Loyala
and Violet were so startled, they looked at each other in wonder at the cook’s
perceptiveness. “Really?” they said in unison.
“Yes,”
she said. Then she bent over and reached into a cupboard, and pulled out, of
all things, a giant eggplant and set it stoutly on her cutting board. “You are
just the girl to cut up this eggplant for me! Loyala dear, see what sort of
cheese we have. And Violet dear, take care with this knife.” And in no time at
all, the cook had enlisted the help of both ladies in creating what appeared to
be a very new and exploratory recipe. By the time the dish was done and sent to
the banquet hall to be served, all three of them were exhausted and reeked of
garlic, but felt quite happy.
“You
seem to have a gift for cooking, m’girl!” the cook commented to Violet and
patted her on the knee. “If you like, you can come down and help me again.”
“Thank
you, I think I will!”
And she did, the
very next day. While blanching asparagus, the cook said, “Violet dear, I can
see you are a high-class lady of noble blood. I am glad for your company, but I
must ask, why did you come down here?”
Violet stopped
slicing almonds for a moment and looked at the cook. “I’m trying to find out
who I am.”
Again, the cook
held her gaze for a long time, and it felt to Violet as though the cook was
reading her very soul. “And you think you’ll find yourself down here? M’girl, you need to go outside!
Change the world! Find adventure and chase it! You can- you can- you can start
by going out to the garden and picking me some tomatoes.”
And with that,
Cook handed Violet a basket and directed her to the back door of the kitchen,
which led to a large and healthy bed of vegetables. As she walked along the
rows and picked tomatoes, Violet was enchanted by the colors and the smells of
the plants. She reached down and sifted a handful of the rich, damp soil
through her fingers.
“Hi there, miss!
What’re ya doin’ here? State your business!” Violet jumped at the harsh sound
of a man’s voice behind her. She turned around and saw a man with salt and
pepper hair, dressed in old clothes covered in dirt, with a trowel in one hand
and a sack in the other.
“Oh, I beg your
pardon!” Violet said, “Cook asked me to bring her some tomatoes, so I am, but I
just wanted to see the garden a little bit before I went inside.”
“Oh, she did,
did she?” he snapped grumpily. “And ya did, did ya? Well, whatdya think, eh?”
“I think it is
wonderful, and I wish I could learn to make things grow like this!”
The old man
studied the lady, and his eyes crinkled in the corners and his lips tightened,
as though he was trying not to smile. “Well, miss,” he said, “you’ve only seen
a piece o’ the gardens. If ya wanta see more, ya gotta take part in it. Come
out here early tomorrow mornin’ an’ I’ll give ya some work ta do.”
“Really? You
mean that?” Violet was so excited she nearly dropped her basket full of
tomatoes.
“Yes, I am,” he
said and chuckled in spite of himself. “Wear a hat and some old clothes,” he
added as Violet ran inside to tell Cook and Loyala.
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