by Tyla Walker
“I’m not eating those vegetables, so you can take them off my plate,” says my son who loves to challenge me in front of others. Juan tries to defuse the situation by bending down and showing Nathan his bicep muscles.
“See. If you eat your vegetables you can look like this someday. Maybe I’ll let you work out with me later if you listen to your mom.”
Before he can respond, I whisk him and his plate of food out the kitchen door, and hustle him back to his table. His schoolbag is still unpacked but there is a Batman comic book that is sitting out on the table. I replace the comic book with the plate of food.
“You’ll get this back when you finish your homework,” I tell him.
“You’re mean,” he repeats as he starts to pick at his food. The room is starting to fill up and I make the rounds, joking with some of the regulars, and making sure that everyone is happy with their orders. Ashley seems to have settled down and a routine has prevailed, at least for the moment.
Just then the front door opens and a tall rugged cowboy strolls in. He surveys the room confidently as though he is looking for a friend.
I walk over to greet him, fixing my hair almost without thinking.
“Would you like a table for one or will you be waiting on someone to join you? I ask sweetly. He smiles back with just a slight twinkle in his eye.
“I’m the new pit chef. Hank’s the name.” He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I realize I’m still holding the Batman comic book. I switch it to my left hand.
“I’m Cindy, I’ll be your boss,” I say as I hold onto his hand a little too long. He steals a sly look at the comic book I’m trying to stash behind my back.
“I like Batman too. I think we’ll get along just fine”.
Three
Hank
Dark brown eyes. A tumble of chocolate curls frame the gentle edges of her face. A warm glow radiates off of her skin, and a large lump forms in my throat.
“This is my new boss?”
I swallow but everything in my throat is suddenly dry. The midday sun catches the edges of her dark hair and a halo forms around her, everything is brown and reddish gold and I feel a twist somewhere in the center of my body. My heart is thumping in my chest, and I look towards the wall, hoping to find something to ground me.
“I see you’ve met the lady in charge.” Heavy footsteps approach and I tear my gaze away from the woman with the comic book to see James looking at me with a laugh lurking around the corners of his mouth. “This one’s mine, Cindy.” James winks at the woman and pats my back.
I manage to smile at her, and turn towards James, blood rushing up my neck all the way to my ear lobes.
“Where’s the kitchen?” I ask, struggling to breathe.
“Right this way, boy.” James takes me by the shoulders and leads me back into the depths of the building. “So you met my niece. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, any questions about front of house you ask her. That one’s my grandnephew.”
James gestures towards a small boy sitting at a table, he is all elbows and knees, staring at a large textbook with a furrowed brow. Slowly, the familiar smell of smoke begins to envelop me, and I push the woman’s face out of my mind.
Cindy. Her name was Cindy.
The kitchen is a large expanse filled with row upon row of smoker. About twenty all told, their round bellies smoldering with orange logs of hickory wood.
“So, this is where it happens,” James says and he slaps one of the grills. The smoker is empty, and it makes a long resonant sound that fills the room. “Prep counter is over that way, but most of the magic happens here.” I can see why he needs help, there are only a few people in the room; two men in their forties an older woman mincing garlic while she hums a little song to herself. Only about half of the smokers are fired up, the rest are cold and dormant.
“This is a big kitchen, sir. Where is the rest of the staff?”
“I, uh…” James pats the back of his head, looking for the right words. “I got some trouble finding the right folks for the job. It’s just me, Sarah and the guys back here these days. I guess you could say I have a hard time with ‘mediocre’. Been through a lot of cooks.” The woman chopping garlic lifts up her head to give James a quick guffaw, and then ducks back down to her work.
I’ve seen chefs like him before. Can’t stand folks who don’t have talent, can’t stand folks who do. Puts them in a tough spot when they end up needing help.
“How about you show me the prep list, sir. James. Chef.” James’s eyes twinkle and his mustache twitches a bit.
“This way kid.”
I love cooking, every step of the way. The preparation, tending the fire, watching over the meat as it roasts, sometimes it takes 18 hours to get something perfect. I get lost in it, the physical labor and the intensity of focus.
The entire restaurant is short staffed and I dive right in, flipping over sausages and stirring pots of thick sauce. We hand the food off to the waiters through an open window that looks out onto the interior of the restaurant.
Cindy is a whirlwind. There are only two waiters and a busboy, and the restaurant is in a busy swing as lunch crowd lopes through. Cindy is everywhere, popping up at the window to run plates of food outside, greeting guests as they enter the building, tiding up their tables when they leave. Each time she gets a moment to herself, she sits beside her son, ruffles his hair, and listens attentively to his questions about the homework he’s buried in.
A spark leaps off one of the grills and lands in the hair at the top of my chest, and I drag my eyes away from Cindy.
“You alright there Hank?” The other cook, Sarah, is looking at me with a little smile on her face. I nod vigorously and fixate on the fire. She chuckles to herself and walks away.
“Shit,” I silently curse. “Is it that obvious?”
James is an incredible chef. I can tell he’s had the restaurant a long time, everything fits around him like a comfortable shoe. Every so often an old friend will pop their head in the window and James doesn’t miss a beat, yelling out jokes and jovial insults over the open flames of the smokers.
Burnet High Smokehouse has a golden reputation, people used to travel from all over the state to try their brisket and pork ribs. In recent years there’s been a shift in food trends with more focus on advertisement and social media. The most successful businesses market their food to a younger generation of consumers who value atmosphere more than the food on their plate.
Though the restaurant is relatively busy, it’s clear that its heyday is long gone. I doubt the restaurant is very popular with the internet crowd.
I swing into the rhythm of the kitchen without breaking a sweat. Sarah takes care of the turkeys, and the two other cooks rotate between prep work and grill. The three of them dance around each other with out a second thought. They’ve all been working together a while, and it shows.
“Out of my way, cowboy.” Ernesto, one of the kitchen guys has come up behind me, carrying an armful of wood. He drops it next to my station and the logs make a loud sound as they clutter onto the floor. “You’re gonna need that.” He says, and then returns to the other side of the kitchen.
“Thanks.” I bend down to tidy up the pile of logs and the door to the kitchen swings open.
“Hi, chef.” I look up and she’s there. Cindy. My heartbeat shifts and I can feel the rate of my pulse rise.
“I’m not chef,” I stand, kicking the logs under my smoker. “Just Hank. Hank is good.”
“Okay, Hank,” Cindy gently laughs. “I got it. How you liking Burnet?”
“Other than the deer, I like it alright.”
“Oh I heard all about that!” Cindy leans against the wall and moves her weight from one foot to the other in a comfortable way. “My uncle says he ate some brisket off the bed of your truck.” I nod in reply, hoping that the smoke coming up off the grill distracts from the blush that is moving up my neck. “He said it wasn’t bad.”
I don’t know
whether I want to keep her talking to me or if I want to run away. It’s been a long time since I felt this strongly about someone, and I don’t know if it’s ever come on so quickly. There’s just something about the way her lips curve, and the way her gaze rests so deeply on the things she looks at.
“Here,” I say, not meeting her eyes. “This one should be better.” I tear off a small piece of the brisket I’m grilling. I look around for a plate, my fingers smoldering from the heat, but before I can find one she’s plucked the meat out of my hands. There’s a little jolt of electricity when our fingers brush, and I clench my jaw trying to keep my heart rate down.
Cindy chews on the meat, and then licks each finger. She looks up at me, still leaning on the wall, her big brown eyes impossible to read.
“Damn, new guy.” She stares at me for a moment longer, nods to herself, and then pops up off the wall. She makes it almost all the way to the front door of the restaurant, and then calls back to me, her voice bouncing off the walls of the building. “Hey new guy! I’m glad you’re here.”
There is a large crack as a huge drop of fat drops off the brisket and into the fire below. Everything is hot and smoky, and I feel something that I haven’t felt in a long time. That I am exactly where I need to be.
Four
Cindy
I rush out the front door to check on my customers outside and almost knock over Gene. Gene Harland owns the gas station down the street from us and is one of the regulars here. We have a loyal bunch of folks and they keep us in business. I’m sure it’s the food that keeps them coming back but it’s the personal touch that seals the deal.
“Whoa, young lady. Where are you headed so fast?” Gene stumbles back and grabs onto the rail. He’s still smiling so I’m not sure if he is embellishing his fall or he is seriously off balance.
“I’m sorry Gene. I got a little distracted and I wasn’t paying attention.” I dust him off playfully as though he actually fell in the dirt. He seems to like the extra attention. I straighten his cowboy hat for him and put it at a jaunty angle.
“Must be because of that new chef who just moseyed into your kitchen. I hear he’s a real stud in many ways.” Gene says, as he straightens his hat back on his head.
“Damn, does everybody know my business before I do?” This is what happens when you live in a small town. You either learn to live with it, or you move. Or you get so fucked up it don’t matter what happens, or what anybody thinks of you. Luckily, I’ve chosen the first route.
“I thought YOU were the only stud in town, Gene?” I say, as I rush off to check on the outside tables. Everything seems to be in order, although we have a table of six cowboys who already seem to be feeling their suds and are getting a little loud. I’m gonna have to keep an eye on that. Never did understand how people can get wasted at noon on a Monday.
“Hey new guy! I’m glad you’re here.” What the hell was I thinking? Maybe I came across as a little too excited. I mean, I do have to be his boss. Maybe he’ll think I’m a pushover and then what? But damn, that brisket tasted good. I taste it again as I lick my fingers. I try to put this out of my mind because I have too much work to do.
“I better check on Nathan before he starts wandering away again.” When I reach him I see he is finishing up and putting his books away. Only some of his food is eaten but I can see that he is done dealing with it.
“Can I see your homework before you put it away?” I ask, as he keeps stuffing his bag.
“No. We only had math and it’s all finished. I want to go over Ronnie’s house.” This has become a new problem this year. He refuses to let me check his work and it’s become a battle every night. I dread the day when I won’t even know how to do the math he is bringing home.
“Why don’t you let me check your work, and if it’s perfect I’ll let you meet the new guy. You can even help him in the kitchen.” This seems to get his attention and he quickly starts unpacking his bag. I look over his assignment sheet first, and can’t help but notice how sloppy his handwriting has gotten. My friend Tonia, who is a therapist, says that it’s all part of him acting out. I think he still blames me for his father leaving.
“Well, I see you’re pretty good with your fractions. There are only two wrong but the rest look good. Why don’t you fix those two and you can meet me in the kitchen?” I figure I better go warn the new guy that I have volunteered him, before Nathan attacks him.
“How are you with kids?” I ask Hank. He seems a bit startled, as he maneuvers a large slab of brisket in the smoker. “My son wants to meet you and I told him he can help you cook. Just don’t let him go near the fire. I don’t trust him yet.”
“I love kids. You just have to break them like you do a wild pony.” He’s smiling so I’m gonna take it that he is pulling my leg. Nathan comes in and hands me his homework sheet.
‘See, all finished,” he tells me. I nod as I check over his work. Hank and Nathan just stare at each other.
“Okay, good work. Hank this is Nathan. Nathan this is our new chef, Hank.”
“Nate,” he says. “Only my mom calls me Nathan. And some of my teachers. What’s your real name?”
“My real name is Henry, but I’ve been Hank ever since I can remember.”
“I had a pet frog named Henry but he died. My mom says I can work with you but I only want to work the smoker. Are you gonna live here forever, or are you just visiting? Can I see what the brisket looks like while it cooks?” Nathan rattles off his questions like there’s a time limit on his visit.
“Slow down partner, we ain’t opening that smoker just yet. You know what they say?” Kid just looks at him. “If you’re lookin’, you ain’t cookin’. So you gotta learn to be patient.” Hank lifts him up on the counter behind him and says, “Why don’t I teach you how to make my special barbecue sauce?’
“Cool,” my son says as I sneak away. I haven’t checked in with Ashley for a while, and I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her. I find her over by the waitress station keeping an eye on her tables. She sees me coming, and I can see she is dying to talk.
“Oh my god, are you freaking out?” She grabs my hand and pulls me closer to her and whispers in my ear. “Did you know he was going to be so hot?” I give her my best professional look and move away.
“He’s just on probation and we’ll see how he does.” I try looking around the room instead of at her.
“Right. And what kind of a test are you going to give him?” She ask with that wicked grin that she has. I know Ashley like a book, and it doesn’t take much for the conversation to turn smutty.
“His name is Hank, and he comes highly recommended. And just because he is good looking doesn’t mean he will fit in here.”
‘Oh, I’m sure he will fit in real nice… If you know what I mean.” That one just made me giggle like a schoolgirl again. It’s impossible to keep a straight face when Ashley gets on a roll. I have to end this right here before it gets out of hand.
“Look, my life is so hectic now I can’t even think about another person to deal with. Yes, he is handsome but that’s not what I need right now.” Ashley gives me that skeptical look and I know she isn’t buying it.
“I need to go back to the kitchen and see how he is making out. I left him with Nathan, and I’m not sure if he is ready for that.”
“Okay, say hello to Hunk. I mean Hank when you see him.” Ashley doesn’t know when to quit. I just shake my head and keep on moving. As I enter the kitchen I catch sight of Nathan and Hank are mixing up a big batch of barbecue sauce. It looks like they are making a bloody mess and laughing about something.
“What are in those jars of spices that you just put in?” I hear my son ask.
“Well, those are my super duper secret ingredients that I carry with me wherever I go. If I told you what they were, I would have to kill you.” Nathan is nonplussed and keeps on badgering him.
“You never killed anyone. I’ll bet you don’t even have a gun,” Nathan says, challe
nging his new buddy. I figure it's time to move in and join the party before it gets too awkward.
“Hey, do I get to taste this special sauce that you boys are cooking up,” I say as I dip a spoon in the savory mix. “Yum. You two should bottle this and start your own business.”
“Mom, Hank says that he has an old smoker at his mom’s house that I can have. And, he can come over and teach me how to use it if I want. Isn’t that great? How about if he comes over on Sunday?” I haven’t seen Nathan this excited in a long time.
“Now listen, we’ll talk about all of that later. How about we let Hank get back to work. You don’t want to get him in trouble with the boss already do you? It’s his first day. We don’t want to overwhelm him.” I can see that Nathan is disappointed. “Why don’t you ask Ashley to fix you up a plate of ice cream and you can read your comic book while I talk to Hank.”
Nathan tears out of the kitchen, and Hank and I share a quiet moment.
“That’s a great kid you got there. I can see he’s got his mom’s fire.”
“Thank you” I say, trying to find the right words. “ I don’t… It hasn’t been easy, and it’s just nice to see him have such a positive response to a male figure.” He gives me such a warm smile that I have to bite my lip.
“Glad to be of service.”
Five
Hank
“Looks like Nate found a new friend.” One of the cooks sidles up to us and flips the brisket I was working on. “Now you’re stuck with this one.” He says, winking at Cindy and giving me a little nudge with his elbow.
“Thank you for your input Juan, but Hank is on probation.” Cindy says, breaking eye contact with me and straightening her posture. She grins at me, raising her eyebrows. “Watch out new guy, Juan will know your life story before you can blink.” Cindy gives him a playful flick and Juan cackles as she whirls out of the kitchen, back to the restaurant.
