Evertaster

by Adam Glendon Sidwell

  At least an Evertaster would care, thought Guster.

  “The strangest part is this: Archedentus passed the One Recipe on to his apprentice, without ever making it even once.”

  “He couldn’t gather all the ingredients in one place,” said Mariah.

  “Doubtful. A genius like Archedentus would have found a way, even with the limited technology of the age. There must have been another reason he didn’t make it.”

  Guster tried to comprehend what she was saying. The thing they were searching for — and they didn’t even know what it was — had never been made. No one had ever tasted it. “Then why didn’t he make it?” Guster demanded.

  “Ah! Nobody knows! Maybe he didn’t want anyone else to have it. In the end, he just wandered away one day, never to be seen again.”

  Guster felt panic seize hold of him. What she was saying was preposterous. “Then he couldn’t know how it would turn out!” he cried. It just didn’t make sense, having something at your fingertips, then letting it go. How did they even know it was real?

  Felicity shook her head, “I think he did know. It’s like a composer who composes a symphony on paper, before he ever hears it. He knows how it will sound.”

  “Like Beethoven,” said Mariah under her breath. “He was deaf near the end of his life, and he never heard some of his greatest works.” That made a little bit of sense — just the egg, the butter and the Sweet Black Tears together were certain to be delicious indeed. Guster didn’t have to taste the combination to know that. Still, it was like hunting for a treasure chest that may or may not be full of real gold.

  “And Leonardo da Vinci drew plans for a helicopter hundreds of years before the Wright brothers ever actually made an airplane,” said Mariah.

  “It was the master blueprint. Archedentus knew it would redefine eating forever,” Felicity said.

  That made Guster feel a little better, but still — it was all such a gamble!

  “Before he left, Archedentus told his apprentice that he would be a guardian and a messenger, and that the apprentice would be the one to bring the Gastronomy of Peace to the world.

  “The chefs of Paris were infuriated. They couldn’t tolerate some bungling fool holding the most promising recipe of all time. It’s only because the apprentice smuggled the chef’s diary out of the palace that he was able to keep it for himself.

  “Other gourmets around Paris, the ones who trusted Archedentus, began calling the assistant the Harbinger of Peace; they began waiting for him to bring the One Recipe to light.”

  The Harbinger of Peace, Guster thought. It sounded so royal.

  “And they’re still waiting,” said Mariah.

  Felicity nodded. “Before the first Harbinger of Peace died, he secretly passed the diary on to his trusted assistant, who in turn passed it on again. About a hundred years ago, one of the Harbingers built the eggbeater and carved the symbols into it as an added measure of security.”

  “Each Harbinger of Peace has had to take special care to conceal himself and the One Recipe from the Cult of Gastronimatii. It’s been an epic game of hide and seek ever since Archedentus disappeared.

  “So Renoir was the last Harbinger of Peace,” said Guster.

  “Possible,” said Felicity. She fixed a lock of her hair that was already in place, as if deep in thought, then settled her eyes on Guster. “And he would have been, but he passed on the recipe, just as they’ve always done.” Suddenly, everyone, Mariah, Zeke and all the mercenaries were staring at Guster.

  “That’s right, Mr. Guster Johnsonville,” said Felicity. “When Renoir gave you the eggbeater, he dubbed you the new Harbinger of Peace.”

  ***

  Harbinger of Peace. What did that even mean? Two seconds ago he was just Guster Johnsonville, and now Felicity Casa, Celebrity Homemaker, all her mercenaries, his brothers and sister were staring at him like he’d just come back from the dead. All his life he’d been a kid. No one had ever given him a briefcase full of cash or the keys to a car. He didn’t even get his own room. And now he was in charge of a recipe that was supposed to bring peace to mankind?

  “Renoir believed in you as an Evertaster,” said Felicity. “Which is why I think he gave you the eggbeater.”

  “It makes sense that Guster should do it,” said Mariah. “He’s the one who unlocked the carvings in the first place.” Whoever he was, Guster couldn’t get mad about being called ‘Evertaster’ anymore. He knew it was true. Harbinger or not, he’d already decided that he would see this through to the end. He would see that the One Recipe got made. He could not expect anyone else do that for him now.

  “The Harbinger of Peace has managed, for the most part, to keep his identity concealed from the Gastronimatii, but they have always been searching for him, getting closer. They got so close to Renoir, they poisoned him. That is why things are so critical now. They’ve stolen the eggbeater from you,” said Felicity.

  A familiar pang of guilt stabbed him. He’d lost the very thing Renoir entrusted to him. No wonder Felicity doubted him. “We have the egg and the butter,” he said. He could take some hope in that.

  Felicity pressed a button on the wall and a cabinet opened, revealing a rack of spices and bottles of liquid. “Now let’s see what we can do about your mother,” she said. She opened the lids of a few bottles and mixed and stirred their contents together until a peculiar ammonia smell filled the chopper. She dashed a few more drops into the mixture, until it finally smelled a little like a cough drop, then waved it under Mom’s nose.

  Mom yawned a yawn the size of a saber tooth tiger, scrunched up her eyes, then opened them. “You!” she cried, looking straight into Felicity’s face. She kicked at her shins. Felicity dodged just in time.

  “Mom!” cried Guster.

  She looked frantically around. “Where am I?” she said.

  “On a helicopter, heading toward the mainland,” said Guster. Suddenly, she was back in his life. His future with Mom came rushing back to him, and he realized how much he needed that.

  “Did they hurt you?” she asked, looking for a way out of her harness as she tried to inspect her children.

  Zeke nodded, holding up his arm. “Rope burn,” he said. Relief washed across Mom’s face.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” said Guster.

  She looked at him kindly. “It wasn’t your fault, Guster.”

  “No Mom, it was. I got us into this,” he said. “We’re here because of me.” He had to tell her. He had to say it out loud.

  “We chose to come with you,” she said. If she really meant it, if he didn’t have to do this all alone — then that made all the difference.

  Mom turned to Felicity. “Are we guests, or are we captives?” she asked, fire in her eyes.

  Felicity motioned to her mercenaries who unlocked Guster’s, Mariah’s, Mom’s and Zeke’s straps. Guster jumped up and stretched his back, finally able to move. Mom rushed to Henry Junior and took him from the mercenary who held him awkwardly. He buried his face in her neck.

  “Do you really want to try to make the One Recipe on your own?” Felicity asked.

  She was right. They needed her resources. Mom stared back at Felicity, but didn’t answer.

  “We have something in common, Mrs. Johnsonville. You want the Gastronomy of Peace, and so do I. The difference is that it has been my life’s quest to make it. Every homemade birdfeeder, every hand-antiqued flower pot — they were all stepping stones — vehicles to build an empire. Every good thing was intended to lead to something better, and now it’s right in front of us — the best thing of all!

  “It’s the culmination of the Felicity Casa Homemaking Empire. This chopper, these men, the endless informants tapped into every nook and cranny of the gourmet world. They won’t allow me to miss a single sentence, not a single word spoken anywhere about the One Recipe.

  “I suspected all along that Renoir had the eggbeater in New Orleans, though no one knew for sure. He kept it secret. The Gastronimatii must h
ave been suspicious though, just like I was. They must have been watching him — waiting for a chance to snatch it away.”

  Whatever Felicity’s motives for finding the Gastronomy of Peace, they needed her to get back to the mainland. They needed her for her knowledge. They needed her to be the one to make it. “If you know so much, then you’ll be able to tell us where to find the Mighty Apes Diamonds,” said Guster. He couldn’t let on how helpless they were without her.

  “I have my theories,” said Felicity. “The carvings indicated pyramids. The only place we’ll find those is in Egypt.”

  “But there were also apes, and those live in the jungles of Africa,” said Mariah. “The details showed a river that flowed from a lake. I’m willing to bet my Atlas that river is the Nile, and we’ll find the diamonds at its source.”

  Felicity pursed her lips. Guster could tell she wasn’t used to being challenged. “Very well. Let the Harbinger decide,” she said.

  Guster scanned the faces in the chopper. Him? They were going to leave the decision to him? He didn’t feel qualified to make that choice. Now that Mom was back, shouldn’t she do it? He looked to her for help.

  Mom closed her lips tight. Apparently, she wasn’t going to tell him what to do.

  “The Gastronimatii have a head start. We can’t afford to make a mistake,” said Felicity.

  There was a sudden pressure inside the chopper that felt very real. The deserts of Egypt or the jungles of Africa? Pyramids or Gorillas? Guster thought. Both seemed likely, and without the eggbeater, it was impossible to look for more clues in the carving. Felicity was the Celebrity Homemaker. But Mariah was Mariah. He would have to go with his gut. And his gut told him to go after those apes.

  “Africa,” he finally said. “Find us the source of the Nile.”

  Chapter 17 — Felicity’s Quest

  The Johnsonvilles and Felicity’s crew landed in Tromso, Norway a few hours later, where they boarded one of Felicity’s private cargo planes to Africa.

  The flight was comfortable, but all they had were a couple of reheated, Casa Brand instant dinners. Guster was dying. Besides the butter, it had been days since he’d eaten something he could tolerate. If they didn’t make the Gastronomy of Peace soon, he didn’t know how much longer he could last.

  Zeke, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice anything wrong as sauce dripped all over his shirt.

  Mom still seemed a little groggy; she grew more alert as the flight took them further south. Guster had never seen her look so rested. Mariah explained in detail everything that had happened since Bear Island. When she got to the part about Renoir dubbing Guster the Harbinger of Peace, Mom smiled. “Then it is up to you now,” she said to Guster. That was a lot of pressure. Suddenly, he felt older than Zeke.

  “As full of herself as she is,” said Mom, looking at Guster thoughtfully, “I could never do the One Recipe justice like Felicity could.”

  Maybe Mom was right, but something about Felicity’s involvement bothered Guster. She seemed irritated by their presence. So why didn’t she just take the ingredients and go? She hadn’t explained what he was supposed to do as Harbinger of Peace, especially since he’d already lost the eggbeater. Was there something she wasn’t telling them? How much could they actually trust her? For now, they would just have to play along.

  And then there was Africa. They had no time to spare in the race against the Gastronimatii. Guster had made the decision; he couldn’t afford to be wrong.

  ***

  After what seemed like a whole day, Felicity’s thick-necked, dark-browed Lieutenant with the aviator sunglasses brought the plane to a landing on the runway at the Kilimanjaro Airport in the middle of Africa. Guster was the first to climb down the huge ramp that came out of the tail and into the sweltering heat. He had watched plenty of nature shows about Africa with Zeke, and now they were actually there — - the home of hippos, crocodiles and lions.

  A crowd had gathered on the other side of the chain link fence outside the airport to watch the landing. An African man in a pair of green rain pants and a dirty pink T-shirt ran up to Guster. “Can I interest you in some authentic African jewelry?” he said, shouting every third syllable. He held up a board with dozens of carved wooden necklaces and bracelets hanging from pegs.

  Guster shook his head. “We’d like to do some sightseeing,” he said.

  “Excellent choice! This country is beautiful! My name is Riziki and I want to welcome you here! Would you like a safari? Or to climb the mountain?”

  “We’d like to see gorillas,” he said.

  “Oh,” said Riziki. He hesitated, “And you came here for this, of all places?”

  “Yes. We would like to see the ones on the shores of Lake Victoria, please,” said Guster.

  “Lake Victoria?” Riziki asked. He looked confused for a minute, as if considering. Then he smiled. “Oh yes! I can show you the most wonderful gorillas there — and it will be for a very good price! How many of you will be coming?”

  Mom, the rest of the kids, and several armed mercenaries marched out of the plane. “All of us,” Mom said.

  Felicity was right behind them. “Lieutenant, bring the jeeps,” she called back into the cargo bay of the plane. She’d changed her earrings to a pair of miniature elephant tusks, and wore a bandoleer strapped across her slender hips.

  A moment later, the Lieutenant drove the first jeep down the ramp and onto the runway. Three more followed.

  “Guster, you’ll ride with me,” said Felicity.

  “With my permission of course,” said Mom curtly.

  Felicity gave her a look. “It’s okay Mom,” said Guster. Ever since Felicity’s helicopter had picked them up, he’d been turning the list of ingredients over and over in his head. He’d been too preoccupied with other clues to remember where he had heard the name Arrivederci before. The man with the pencil-thin tie on the newscast about Felicity’s arrest was the connection. That meant the Dark Milk Bricks from Arrivederci’s Bean could only be one thing, and he was going to call Felicity out on it.

  “Go ahead then, honey,” Mom said. Maybe his role as Harbinger meant something to Mom. She’d already left the decision between Egypt and Africa up to him, and now she was letting him out of her sight, just because he asked. It was like his opinions were worth something — like they mattered. He climbed into the back seat of the jeep right behind the thick-necked Lieutenant.

  “What about him?” asked the Lieutenant pointing to Riziki.

  “Guster wants him along, so bring him,” said Felicity.

  Riziki loaded his peg board of jewelry into the back of the jeep then hopped in. “Thank you so much, madam. I promise you, you will not be disappointed!” he said. “I can guarantee you the best in touring services, without any of the funny business that comes with other guides. For you, I will give a very good price!”

  Mom and the rest of the kids got in the other three jeeps and the entire convoy rolled across the runway, through a gate, and out onto a street.

  The Lieutenant sped up, and soon they were zipping along, the wind whistling in Guster’s ears. The road leading away from the airport was long and straight, cutting right through a wide plain covered in short, brown grass. Tall, skinny Tanzanians with extra-long earlobes walked along the side of the road. Some of them wore bright red or blue blankets over their shoulders and sandals made from old rubber tires. Bicyclists pedaled alongside the road, with dozens of large, empty yellow water jugs strapped to their bike frames so awkwardly, it looked like they’d fall over at any moment. Guster wondered how often people from America visited there, if ever.

  “We must travel all day to get to the shore of Lake Victoria,” said Riziki. “It is many, many miles in the west.”

  “Lieutenant, follow this man’s instructions,” said Felicity. “When we get near the lake, we’ll camp for the night. In the morning, he’ll show us how to find the gorillas.”

  “Roger, Ms. Casa,” said the Lieutenant.

  Guster
let them ride in silence for a minute before he took the chance. “You know what the Dark Milk Bricks from Arrivederci’s Bean are, don’t you?” he said.

  Felicity turned in her seat, anger in her eyes. “All too well,” she said. He thought that might strike a chord. He never guessed it would be that bad.

  “Why do you think I was in prison?” she asked clutching the seat. That confirmed it: she’d been arrested for stealing the famous Arrivederci Chocolate — Dark Milk Bricks that came from Arrivederci’s cocoa bean.

  “Why’d you do it?” he asked.

  “Would you believe me if I told you I was innocent?”

  Guster paused. He didn’t know what he could believe anymore.

  “That’s what I thought,” said Felicity settling into her seat again. “Luckily, there are members of the Casa Homemaking Empire who I can still count on to get me out of any scrape,” she smiled over at the Lieutenant.

  “Always, ma’am,” he said, his face still pointed straight ahead, his jaw square. He allowed himself a grin. “There’s nothing like fast-acting bread dough rising, prison walls crumbling, and the sound of heavy shrapnel exploding as you airlift an innocent prisoner out of Maximum Security Prison under heavy gunfire… Not that I would know anything about that, though,” he said.

  So that’s how she’d escaped. She had baked her way out.

  “What’s so special about the Arrivederci’s chocolate?” Guster asked. He had to know every detail.

  “They’ve been making it for centuries,” said Felicity. “The Arrivederci’s are the greatest chocolate makers in the world.”

  So that was it. The chocolate was so old, Archedentus could’ve known about it back in his time. What was even more important — and this was the good part — if chocolate was one of the ingredients, the Gastronomy of Peace was likely to be a dessert. Now that was good news. Guster watched a lone tree in the middle of the dusty plane pass by. He wondered just how much Felicity knew.

  Felicity turned in her seat to face Guster again. “I hope you are sufficiently afraid, Guster Johnsonville,” she said seriously.