Friday, July 6, 2012

Bacon II

"Bacon and some scrambled eggs, if you'll let me."


"That sounds amazing!"


Julian smiled. He asked, "What's your name again?"


"Crissy."


"Hi Crissy. Sorry I don't remember you --I was drunk, very drunk, last night. Can you hand me that pan, and turn those two red nobs, on the big chugging machine?"


"How much?"


"Til the lines are flat." Julian made a horizontal motion with the pan she'd handed him.


Crissy turned the two red nobs and the coffee machine slurp-bumped down from a roar to peaceful gurgles. A thick, rich, almost sludge of coffee began to ooze into the waiting cast iron pot. "You'll want to cut that with some water. I dont' know how it comes out so thick, but it does. There's spoons. . . somewhere around here."


"In the drawer maybe?"


"Maybe." Julian smiled. He lit the stove with a match and opened the fridge, rooting around for the margarine. "You find them?"


"The spoons?" Crissy drummed on the back of a chair, grinned with her teeth, asked, "You want a mug?"


"Yea, two spoons of sugar, two cup-cups of water, please." Julian found the margarine and stood up, spooned a glob into the pan --it started sizzling instantly, and he swished it around, coating the well loved bottom.


Crissy tapped him on the shoulder with a mug; they sipped their coffee sludge and smiled at each other. "You, ah, you going to make those eggs and bacon?" She asked him. "That margarine's going to burn your pan out if you don't do something with it."


Julian mumbled something agreeably and cracked five eggs into the pan. "Scramble those?" It was barely a question, and Crissy grabbed a spatula from the repurposed coffee can in answer.


"Scrambling come menced." She intoned, faux-robotically.


While Crissy scrambled the eggs, Julian set another pan on the stove and tip toed back to the walk in freezer, hiding as it did behind the kitchen area, to the left of Jenn's bathroom. 


The freezer was a lucky find Julian came upon while rooting around another block, looking for something to patch Jenn's roof with. He'd called in one of many favors from a man named Ellis (just Ellis) who had a forklift, and another favor from a ex-home builder whom Julian had eased a scorned lover for, just after the crash, and the three of them had reinforced the floor and carefully knocked out a corner wall and stuffed the freezer into Jenn's loft space. She had cooked them venison and roasted potatoes, with onion and chive soup as a reward. Miraculously, it ran just fine on the solar power converter, and so civilization crept back into the river front.


Quietly, Julian slipped into the walk in freezer, took the butcher blade from its hook just inside the door and addressed the smoked slab of pork. "Thank-you for the food, and the friendship you are about to nuture," He said quietly. He inhaled and held his breathe for a moment; on the exhale he chopped down fast and hard, took off a goodly thick chunk of meat, and caught it before it touched the ground.