VI
464 Words
VITHE NEXT COUPLE OF weeks went by too quickly.
Uncle Jean gave us lessons at night after our showers, when we felt more refreshed and awake again. He taught us to pull from within ourselves to change the world around us.
One night, a gang showed up. They drove by us as we were walking, and then came back, and parked ahead of us - on the wrong side of that street. About five of them, in one car. One stood on the sidewalk ahead of us, just waiting. The others fanned out for an ambush.
But the closer we came, the more agitated they got. And sicker. If they moved off, they felt better. But the last one, the leader, tried to stay the course right in front of us. He wanted something.
Sad for him, all he got was a bad case of up-chucks, right behind his own car. Lucky he missed it.
We just kept walking.
Jean told us, after we were out of their earshot. "All that martial arts training wasn't so you could get into fights and kick butts all over town. It was to learn your own self-control. What you saw back there was just an inkling of how you can affect the environment around you. And there's only one defense against something that powerful."
We walked on for a little bit. Finally the suspense was just too much.
So I asked, "OK what is it?"
Uncle Jean just looked at me with a side-wise glance. "Hami, what's the secret to your cooking? There's some ingredient you use that only master chefs ever really learn. Usually something they can only get by cooking with their mother or grandmother..."
Chaz was hanging on this one.
I stopped walking and they both stopped with me while I figured it out. I knew that something, and knew what it was, but I never had to put it into words before. It was just “something”. Like the look on my Mom's face when I got the recipe just right. Usually with a big hug, no matter what was on the front of our aprons.
Then it hit me. "Love?"
Jean smiled. Chaz lit up like a light bulb.
"Of course. Love!" I was dumbfounded not to think about it that way before. "Chaz, those kind were the best burgers you ever served at the festivals. The ones that went to your friends and family. Tasted the best, gave you the longest lasting full stomach and never an upset one. It's not on any recipe anywhere. And I've studied lots of them."
Jean put his arms around the two of us and we started walking again. I put mine around his shoulders and Chaz put his on top of mine.
Big smiles all around.
And sleep came easy that night.
Except for one dream.
- Writer
