A chef's nightmare

Chapter 2: making ends meet

Many are born with a silver spoon, some would say that they were given a wooden spoon but I can not remember having any spoon at all. Things were really difficult back then, we were homeless for while coupled with the fact that my dad was nowhere to be found.

My mom was a very talented cook, she could turn stone into bread but she was homeless and dirty. No one would want to employ someone like that, they would rather step on her ego, telling her to work for free with the incentive that they would provide her with free food and a place to stay. She had no choice since she was an illegal immigrant without any papers, she dare not report to the authorities or else she would be deported back to her country. If that happened, I would have been sent to Foster care since I was born in America, which made me a citizen.

She worked a few months in the restaurant before they put her on their payroll. Although her salary was much more than the minimum wage, it was something for a woman who had nowhere to go or anyone to turn to. I was barely eight years, but I could still remember a thing or two.

Back then my mom saved up a lot of her salary, just to make sure I go to school but after elementary school and middle school, she could no longer afford the fees. She had me withdraw, I began helping her in the makeshift restaurant she made in our flat.

Her food was nice and affordable in the neighborhood and it attracted a lot of people. With time she began making more money from her makeshift restaurant at home than where she worked, so she just went ahead to leave the job. Moreover, she seemed happier and more at peace working from home.

It all started as something I did just to reduce the stress on her, at a very early age I was already cooking little by little and even sooner I fell in love with making dishes. By the time I was fifteen years old I was very good at cooking and together with my mom, we grew the business even more. Everything was going so well until tragedy struck once again, nature would not leave us alone. My dad had left us and the only family I had in my life was just stolen from me.

She was involved in a fatal motor accident that had been kept unconscious for a few days just before she finally gave up the ghost, it was such an unbelievable event and at that moment I began to question every single thing I knew. I felt all alone in the world and for the next few weeks I decided to leave the restaurant, but Luther did not approve of such a thing.

I was on the verge of ending my life but Luther never let me wander away in the oblivion of depression, a place of no return. Luther became the brother I never had, a family that I began to look up to. He was always supportive and stood with me throughout all my worst moments, I would be forever indebted to him.

I never really got over my mom’s death, but somehow Luther had made me convert the depression I had about my mom’s death into a drive to make her proud wherever she was. He helped me with my problems at the expense of his place, perhaps the saying that a friend can only be called a true friend when they stand by you in the face of trouble was true.

Most surprising was the fact that Luther refused any form of gift or anything from me, no matter what it was. According to him, he did not see the reason to accept any of the items that I had offered to him because he felt like he would be taking advantage of my situation.

It had been years since my mom died, but I had never really gotten over it and that singular incident had made me develop the phobia of vehicles. I could not get myself to purchase a car of my own, I preferred using the subway as a means of transport. No one would blame me for my actions because I was traumatized, and it could have been anyone that passed through such an ordeal.

Sixteen hours to visit the White House...

I had arrived at Washington DC before the day, and Luther had volunteered to come along. The hotels at Washington cost like a million dollars, but we just had to get a place to stay.

Less than a day to become the executive chef of the president, and just when I was having breakfast I received a call from an unknown number. It was the secret service of the White House, they were inviting me for a personal evaluation before I would be stepping a foot into the White House. The secret service always performed certain investigations on anyone that was about to gain any kind of access into the premises of the White House, it was a kind of security measure to prevent any kind of threats.

They had invited me personally, just to brief me on the protocols that would be followed within the white House. They told me that I was not meant to bring in any external edible material, even if it was a spice. I was to provide them with the cooking schedule for the next day some hours prior so that all the ingredients that were to be used would be provided by the secret service.

Well the rules they had given to me were a bit weird, but what did I expect from the security personnel of the President of the United States of America.

“but did you guys ever imagine that I would be blindly preparing a cooking schedule without Mr walker or his family being involved in it,” I said to them.

“it is president Walker,” they said, trying to correct a mistake that they felt I made, although I felt the correction was a bit unnecessary.

“oh God! Was that necessary, anyway I would probably get used to it sooner or later,” I uttered, it seemed like they were trying to control all that I did and said, “that is by the way, I would have to agree with them first, or don’t you think so?” I asked, how in the world would I be able to have an idea of what they would want.

“that us a good point there, maybe you would have to discuss with them,” one of the secret service agents replied to me, “we could set up a meeting in a few hours for you with the president’s daughter,” they told her.

The meeting was just what I needed because I did not want to add something that the president or his daughter would not like, but at least I would have an idea of what dishes I would be preparing.