A Night at Melonpan and a Grilled Cheese Lesson Plan

Polly couldn’t have asked for a better experience than the one she enjoyed at Melonpan Motel. Though it may have been a dirt cheap place to stay, the quality of the place was the furthest thing from dirt possible.

Melonpan Motel was a small establishment painted in the warm yellow of the average melonpan with an interior as warm as freshly baked bread. The travelers more than welcomed the heat for on their short walk to Melonpan Motel, they had been besieged by a sudden chill that could’ve frozen over a vat of boiling oil in an instant. Polly was obviously cooler than a vat of boiling oil by more than a few degrees, so she felt the effects of the frosty wind greatly.

Upon their entry, Polly, Wiki, SAT, and Ed were greeted by a lovely lady as sweet as cantaloupe. She didn’t ask what they were up to, looking for a room at such an atrocious hour, and simply told them how much it was to room per night. The rate was so cheap that Polly, in a rare fit of philanthropy, booked a separate room for the kiwis. There was also the fact she was in the mood for some alone time as most are at some point in their lives.

Polly had never considered living out the rest of her days from a single space before, but the Melonpan’s bed was quick to change that. The bed offered at Melonpan was less a bed and more a very, very, very large beanbag. Taking up nearly a third of the room, the plushy puff was piled with a heaping of pillows and a mountain of blankets. It was like something straight out of Polly’s wildest dreams. Her every expectation and more were met as she sank into it when she was finally ready to hit the hay.

Given how outrageously comfortable Polly was tucked in bed and how if she were at a phone she would have been at 3% battery, low power mode, it came as a surprise to no one except herself when she slept through practically the entire day. When she woke and the sky was a dusky gray rather than bright blue, she wondered for half a minute if the end of times had arrived.

“And here we thought you were never going to wake up,” cawed SAT when Polly had stopped by the kiwis’ room to see if they were still alive. The colorful bird sounded less sad about Polly never waking up than Polly had expected.

“What time did you guys wake up?”

“Not too long ago, actually. We’re nocturnal folks, didn’t you know?”

Polly who was not in the habit of studying the sleep patterns of other species, had not, in fact, known.

“Oh shoot, do you guys think that Mr. Croix has been waiting on us? I sure hope not, I’d feel mighty bad about it if he has been.”

“Well not much we can do about it now,” chirped Wiki. “I guess we’ll just have to stop by his shop and see how things go.”

x x x

By the time the quartet arrived at Croix’s place, the sky had transitioned from dusky to full on indigo. Yet Croix was there, in his run down store that had surely seen better days, as if he had not moved an inch since the four had last seen him.

“Good evening Mr. Croix, hope we haven’t kept you waiting for too long or anything,” chucked Polly, with a smile that she hoped hid her nervousness.

“Not at all fellas. I know I said today around noon, but I won’t lie, I kinda I just opened up. I’m mighty glad I’m not the only one with trouble stickin’ to a schedule.”

“Not much traffic today either, eh?”

“That’s about right,” sighed Croix. “If you couldn’t tell, hasn’t been for a while.”

“You said something about us helping you promote this place?”

“I sure did. I was hoping you outsiders would have some outsider ideas about getting me some sales. Can’t say the usual tactics have been working, I mean, if they were I wouldn’t be on this side of town.”

Polly had only ever paid attention to the salespeople who gave out free samples and the like, so she had little knowledge about other means of promotion.

“Are free samples a thing here?” Polly asked, hoping the answer would be no so that she could feel at least a little useful.

“Free samples? Can’t say it’s something I’ve heard of. Are they popular where you’re from?”

“You’d better believe it,” grinned Polly. “Folks like me love em.”

“Wait,” said Ed with a tone as grave as a place for burial marked with a mound.

Four sets of eyes turned to the bird.

“I think before you promote your goods you best ought to make sure your goods are worth promoting.”

Polly had slept so well she had completely forgotten about the atrocious creations that Croix had dared called his sandwiches. Sure there were one or two decent ones in the mix that didn’t make her want to vomit, but that didn’t excuse the fact that some of them were a crime against food.

“Is there something wrong with my sandwiches?”

If the travelers mistaking Croix’s sandwich as an attempt at food poisoning wasn’t enough proof that his cooking left more than a little to be desired, Polly didn’t know how to break it to him that yes, there absolutely was something wrong with his sandwiches. She debated beating around the bush and in very fancy language telling him that maybe, just maybe, he should take a cooking class or two before going out into the world and advertising his goods. However, before she could finish planning the message she was about to sugar coat like a powdered donut, Ed made a move.

“It breaks my heart to be the bearer of bad news,” began Ed in a tone that did not sound sad in the slightest, “but the way your grilled cheese sandwiches are now, you would have better luck trying to break into the entertainment industry without any connections than getting customers.”

“Y’all, it really wasn’t that bad,” said SAT who looked offended on Croix’s behalf.

“Were you the one who almost died after eating a sandwich with grape cheese in it? No, I do not think so, and therefore you have no right to speak on this matter.”

“I don’t suppose you fellas would have any suggestions for me then, would ya?” Croix asked, his smile now more of an upside down croissant than a rightside up one.

“Oh but I do,” crowed Ed who in all honesty had probably just been waiting for Croix to ask.

Polly’s thoughts briefly flashed back to the stack of grilled cheese sandwiches she had seen in the kiwis’ hideout that was worthy of reverence. Then she remembered how she didn’t get a chance to try them and how Croix’s sandwiches had also been a feast for the eyes.

The ponytailed pirate felt a bit bad for being suspicious of her bird friend, especially since she knew the Sea Island 4 folks were a people of chefs, but Croix’s lie of a sandwich had dealt a heavy blow to her ability to trust.

“I’d love to hear them.”

Grilled cheese sandwiches were clearly a subject Ed took seriously.

“Let’s have a seat,” stated the bird, using a wing to pull out a chair for the hunched store owner.

“Do we need to be here too?” asked Polly. She had never been able to cook and learning how to wasn’t on her to do list. Strolling the streets and finally getting to walk around more than an upper and lower deck seemed like a far better use of her time.

“Not particularly. I figured you weren’t interested in learning about the art of the grilled cheese anyways. I suppose I’ll be seeing you again in a few hours.”

“A few hours?”

Based on her extremely limited knowledge about cooking, Polly had simply assumed making a grilled cheese sandwich was a job that took mere minutes. What more was there to it besides throwing cheese on bread and then toasting it?

“Why yes a few hours, but that’s only because I’ll be giving the good Mr. Croix a sped up version of the lesson. Why I remember the day I learned how to make a grilled cheese. It was a week-long course and I’ll never forget it. It made me into the bird I am today.”

“Right-io, then don’t mind me, I’ll be sidling on out.”

“So will we,” chirped Wiki. SAT nodded as they joined the other two in their shuffle out the door.

As soon as the three were back on the streets and a few paces away from Croix’s shop, Wiki turned to Polly.

“Ed was lying. She said she’ll only take a few hours but honestly, she’ll probably take five. That kiwi can talk like she’s a member of the US Senate trying to prevent a piece of legislation from getting passed when it comes to cooking.”

“Well color me surprised, I never woulda guessed. I’ll take it you know that from experience?”

“I wish it weren’t so, but indeed that’s how it is.”

“We’ve actually used recordings of her cooking lectures to help us fall asleep,” added SAT, as if that were not at all an extremely rude thing to say about a friend.

“You guys are wrong for that, so wrong,” said Polly who, despite her words, was laughing.

“Fledge, what I don’t think you understand is that she made the offer and we just accepted.”

“Def wasn’t expecting that, nope not at all. Well, I guess if that’s how it is, that’s how it is. Where do you guys feel like heading?”

“It’s night now, so I don’t think there’ll be a lot of places open,” said Wiki.

“My good friends, I am happy to inform you that you are wrong in that regard,” Fethar said. “This island operates on a system that takes into consideration the schedule of both night owls and early birds.”

“Wow, wish Sea Island 7 could relate,” huffed Polly who suddenly remembered the many times she would settle down for bed at the crack of dawn only to wake up a few hours later for school. They weren’t her most pleasant memories.

“Oooh, that’s great,” replied Wiki. “Then let’s go check out the rest of The Capital since I think Mr. Croix did say there should be a bunch of cool stuff around there.”

“Any objections from the council?” asked Polly.

Not a hand, nor a wing, was raised. There being no objections, the now Ed-less party was on its way to have some fun.