14 Cooking Lesson

Dear I still don't know what to call you,

It has been three weeks of being forced to work with animals! First the sheep shearing, which stunk to high heaven; then I had to help muck out pig pens, horse stalls and the chicken house. I hate animals. Well, that's a lie. Bojangles and I have become friends. When I don't have time to write in this journal thing, I talk to him. At least I know he can keep a secret. I asked him what I should do about the baby since I'm kind of running out time to decide, but all he did was snort and walk to the far side of his stall where one of the cats had just had kittens. He laid down next to them and licked the mama cat. I've learned not to think anything is odd around here because EVERYTHING is.

I don't freak out at the skunk anymore, but I still do my best to avoid him which is hard because he's everywhere. I go out to gather eggs, he's there. I help feed cows, there he is. Come in for lunch, he's in the house. I swear he's Gram's familiar. Yes, I still think she's secretly a witch. Mainly because she manages to sneak up on me ALL the time. It's like she just morphs from place to place without a sound. And I have seen her with at least three different eye colors. One day she has green, then blue but mostly violet. She told me she has "mood eyes", that they change with her moods. I never even asked her about it but then she is always answering questions I don't ask! I'm just thinking about them and boom! There she is with an answer.

Oh! And that dog of hers, the German Shepherd that destroyed my stuff? What's her name? Mars or something like that. Yeah well, apparently it can open doors because it came in the bathroom the other day while I was... well looking for stuff, you know, not like anything was there but still, I thought I had the door locked but that dog just marched up in there like nothing and nosed me out of the room. You think that old woman can talk to dogs? I know she talks aloud to the cats and that skunk, and they all seem to understand her so probably.

There are so many animals here, I feel like I've locked up in a weird old west zoo. I guess this week we supposed to go down to the goat pens and "pick out dinner." God, I sure I hope I don't have see them kill something.

Today, however, she said I could sleep in because I'd be working with some chick named Melinda in the kitchen. I don't cook. Here's hoping I don't cut my fingers off. Or burn the place down. On second thought, if'n it does burn down, I could go back to Mom's and get out of this honky tonk. You know, that woman probably heard that thought as I wrote this down. Just kidding, Gram.

Guess I better get after it. It's already nine and I haven't eaten yet. Later Journiary. Yeah. I like that. Journal plus diary. Journiary. Haha. Yeah, it won't stick... It's stupid.

**

I went to the kitchen expecting to find Gram waiting for me so she could lay my orders out for the day. Refreshingly, she wasn't there. Instead, I was greeted by the Melinda chick who introduced me to her other helpers, Nyssa and Grace, who looked to be around my age. She explained that we would be prep cooking for the week so that Gram and the others wouldn't have to work as hard to get supper on the table. "Wait. Gram and the others cook? I thought you did all that."

"We all do our part around here. That's how families work."

"Families? Aren't you hired help?"

She giggled a bit at my statement. "No, not at all. Gram's my mom. Well, our mom." She said waving between herself and the other two girls. "Legally, that is."

I sat down at the small table with a plethora of vegetables in front me and looked at her with eyes as wide saucers. "Your mom? So y'all are my aunts? I feel like there's a story here."

"There is." She agreed. "But..."

"It's not yours to tell?" I guessed.

"I was going to say, not suitable for all audiences." Melinda, a small woman with short blonde hair and hazel green eyes, sat at the table and ushered her companions to do the same. Nyssa, the dark-eyed, older looking one of the two younger girls, with long dark curly hair pulled up into a messy bun, started peeling carrots as the younger looking blue-eyed, blonde began trimming celery.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say at that point. Was it me that she thought was too young or one of her sisters? I picked up a peeler and started skinning the potatoes she had set in front of me.

"But, I guess, since you're here, I could bring it down a bit to a PG level and give you the highlights." Okay, it was me. I'm the too young one. "My mother, my real mother was a prostitute who used abortion like birth control. The only reason I was born is because her pimp wanted her to have me for two reasons. First, so he'd have a way to control her and second... Well, let's just say, the younger they were, the more money he made. Thankfully, she got away from him before anything could happen to me. We moved to a city not too far from here where she worked on her own. We had a two-bedroom apartment, and she would lock me in my room while she did her business. When I was twelve, she got arrested and I was placed here through foster care. I lived here about seven or eight months and went back to live with Mom when she got out of jail. Nyssa was born shortly thereafter. She kept working while Nyssa and I were locked in the bedroom. One night, when I was fourteen, one of her regulars got tired of waiting for her to finish up with whoever she was with and kicked the door in to my room. Surprisingly enough, Nyssa was sleeping; or pretending to be asleep, so I didn't scream. I didn't want to risk waking her up and put her in danger, so I just let him do what he wanted. Mom came looking for him when she was done with the other guy and lost her mind when she found him with me. Long story short... She went to prison for his murder and we came to live here with Gram. Nine months later I had Grace."

"So, Gram is just y'all's foster mom?"

"Only until the state tried to separate us. They wanted to put Nyssa and Grace up for adoption to other families and leave me here. She and Pops hired a lawyer and fought for us. It took awhile, but they legally adopted all three of us. So legally, the three of us are her daughters, your aunts. But biologically, Nyssa is my sister and Grace is my daughter."

"You had Grace when you were only fourteen?"

"I actually had Grace on my fifteenth birthday." She smiled at the younger blonde with pure love in her eyes.

"Weren't you scared?"

"Terrified! Oh, I considered abortion but then I remembered how many my mother had and how each one tore a little more of her soul away and I just couldn't. No matter how scared I was, I just couldn't bring myself to end it. And just look at her now. How could I even think about denying the world such a treasure? Besides, why punish her for a crime she didn't commit? It's not like she got to choose who her parents were."

"And you're not angry for what happened to you?"

"Oh, yeah, I was for a long time. Forgiving her father didn't come easy for me. But honestly, I got the best end of the deal. I got Grace. She is the best of both of us, you know. He was just a lost soul; a tool in the devil's hands that was used to try to destroy me. But it didn't work. I'm still here and I am happy."

"If you could go back and change it, would you."

"Well, I didn't enjoy it, if that's what you mean. But no, I wouldn't change it. My best blessings came from that nightmare and I wouldn't trade either of these girls for anything."

I turned my attention to the young blonde. "How old are you now?" I asked.

"I'm fifteen," she said gleaming with pride. "I'll be sixteen in a few months and Uncle Jimmy will teach me to drive his truck."

I stared awestruck at these girls; these servants that turned out to be more members of my family that I knew nothing about before coming here. I didn't really know what to make of her story, because if what she told me was the PG version, she must've really been through some really, really, awful stuff. My heart broke for her and part of me could somewhat relate. Some of the terror I was facing in my pregnancy was alleviated by hearing what she had survived, which I am absolutely sure was Gram intention. I'm still not convinced having this baby is right thing to do, but I'm beginning to see things a little differently than before. I was snapped out of thoughts when Melinda rested a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think I just realized why Gram wanted me cooking with you today."

"Cooking is one of the first things Gram taught me how to do. I couldn't boil water before coming here. With her, I not only learned to cook, but discovered I had a passion for it. Now, my husband and I run a free cooking school in town. We call it Stone Soup Ministries Cooking School. We take in and teach anyone willing to learn how to cook with real and fresh food. Our students learn kitchen basics and the food they make feeds the local shut-ins and homeless. We also rent the kitchen to folks who either don't have a lot of room to cook in their house or to folks who like to batch cook. We're looking at adding on this summer because it has nearly outgrown the space we have."

"Yeah, well I can make ramen explode in the microwave. I always forget to take the fork out."

They laughed. I laughed along with them. I was going to like these girls. I think I hate Gram. Wait! Just kidding Gram, I don't really hate you. Just how sneaky you are. I know you can hear my thoughts!