Chapter 5 -
06/11/2017
“Call me Mrs. Lethan. And him Mr. Lethan,” the one with the chef hat finally stopped her ridiculous cackling.
I nodded with a noncommittal smile.
“Now we are not strangers to you,” said the egg with the mittens. “Let’s get to know each other over the meal.”
I hesitated and turned to Bulkee. He gave me a shrug and crossed to the table, where treats of all kinds were on a full display.
“The Condensed Pouch,” Mr. Lethan said, as he picked up a big and puffy square. “They are yeast-based pastries. A bite into it brings out the most delicious flavors. Each one is a mystery with stuffing of either blueberry cream, or rosemary, or poppy seed, or cream cheese. Oh, you name it,” he beamed.
He nodded at another plate filled with round and thin pieces of something that resembled flat bread.
“This one is called Flatty Out,” he said. “Do you see a hole in the middle?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “That’s where you poke your head through. After that you just leave it around your neck,” he explained, while prodding his forehead at the Flatty Out.
I watched with wariness heeding his amusement. He wiggled till the giant piece wrapped around his neck like a large sheet of scarf. “Now you can bite into it! The dough has enough elasticity that it’d just be hanging round your neck!”
I was intrigued by the strange demonstration. I glanced over at a plate in front of me. On it there were more than a dozen of galette-like bakeries with folded crusty edges.
“Jojos,” Mr. Lethan twisted and turned inside the Flatty Out as he gestured for us to give it a try.
Bullkee and I each took a Jojo out of the plate. I studied the one in my hand. The pastry curved upward in the shape of a cup, a mustard-colored stuffing filled the crater. When I bit into it, a mixture sweet and sour spread in my mouth, the taste reminding me of strawberries dipped in cheese fondue. Gosh, this is good. I chomped down the whole thing and joined Bulkee in sampling the rest.
While we busied ourselves, Mrs. Lethan brought out four petty cups. She carried them on her chef hat, she flew up to the giant teapot.
There was a shiny plate attached to the spout by four beaded strings. Mrs. Lethan set the tea cuts down on the plate and set it at an angle.
I could see a small silvery ball mounted in the center with matching hooks along the rim of the plate. My eyes trained on Mrs. Lethan, as she secured each cup with one silver hook. A sense of unease crept up my chest because I couldn’t figure out what she was up to.
Leveling right next to the kettle, Mrs. Lethan grabbed the spout and pulled on it in a swift. From the nozzle a milky substance gushed out at once, splashing onto the silver ball. “Milk tea,” she announced, just as the stream bounced off the ball and split into four strands.
The volleys landed precisely onto the four cups that fastened to the hooks. When Mrs. Lethan let go of the spout, the spurts disappeared and steams rose from the cups. A luscious aura filled the room.
“Ah ha! Freshly brewed and ready to be served!” Mr. Lethan beamed. He tapped the kitchen table and jumped onto it. “Climb up!” he called out.
There was a tightness around my jaw. The overly-excited manner of the eggs caused me jitters. And I didn’t trust what was in the kettle. But then again, I didn’t want to be left out when I saw Bulkee join them.
When I clambered onto the table, Mrs. Lethan was coming down from the kettle carrying a small silver stick.
She moved directly below one of the miniature tea cups, she asked us to do the same, each choosing a cup to stand beneath. I took a spot and noticed the shiny plate just inches above my head.
Mrs. Lethan lifted up the silver stick and poked the plate right in the middle. “Drink now!” She hailed.
With the knock, the center of the plate bent upward, flipping the cups and dispensing the refreshment. The speed in which the drink had poured into my parted lips caught me off guard. But I was pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was, like nothing I had ever tasted before.
“Absolutely the most delightful tea I've ever had!” Mr. Lethan declared as if he, too, was having it for the first time.
“Certainly,” Bulkee nodded, blotting his mouth with the corner of a napkin. “Now will you tell us what’s happening?” He brought up the question again.
I thought about the pile of the golden biscuits on my left and decided against grabbing one. I reminded myself that I wasn’t here to hang out. I had to get to the Floating Palace before the Prince won his battle with the Ashendrons, before he could reset everything.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and tried to look unfazed as I waited for their reply.
“Oh. That’s really just routine here,” Mr. Lethan shrugged.
“Yes. Just routine,” Mrs. Lethan carried on the explanation. “At the start of every Cycle we prepare the dough and make bread. The baking is done, when the sun reaches its climax. Then we disperse the loaves through the chimney.” She rose up to the teapot again.
“And that explains the explosion,” Bulkee nodded.
“Right. You two were caught right in it.”
I recalled the downpour of the bread loaves that I had mistaken for rock. I was puzzled by what Mrs. Lethan didn’t mention. “Distribute them to whom?” I asked.
“To the entire Pocket of Origination!” Mr. Lethan flashed a toothless smile of pride.
“Why?” My second question quickly followed.
Now it was the Lethans who had a puzzled look, like they didn’t understand my question. “It’s just customary that we, the sole supplier of bread loaves, provide for all the residents,” Mrs. Lethan waved a mitten dismissively.
“It’s just customary,” Mr. Lethan repeated, gesturing for us to get ready.
When Mrs. Lethan drew on the spout and filled up the cups, everyone’s lips parted. She descended and hit the silver plate with the rod. “Drink now!”
I caught a mouthful. A new flavor with a touch of vanilla. My shoulders dropped and the strain in my muscles began to ease.
“You’re probably exhausted from traveling,” Mrs. Lethan reached the kettle once more.
“And you came from a faraway place. A forest or something?” Mr. Lethan inquired, placing another Flatty Out around his neck.
“Yes. The honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest,” Bulkee cleared his throat. “And I am Bulkee, the great guard of the honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest.”
Before I could jump in to offer my story, Mrs. Lethan poked the plate again. “Now.”
Everyone gulped. Another sweet flavor filled my mouth. I could feel the tension in my body transition into a deep relaxation. I did like the drink. And whatever it was, I needed it.
“So where exactly are you headed?” Mr. Lethan asked with a mouthful.
“To the Floating Palace,” Bulkee replied with a flourish. “I have a request for the Prince and the soon-to-be King of AhohoA.”
“Me too,” I said, fast enough before the stick prodded the plate again.
“And how do the two of you possibly go – ” Mrs. Lethan suddenly lowered her voice as if uttering a taboo.
Not quite sure what she was getting at, I looked to Bulkee. But he met me with silence.
“Go from one Pocket to another?” Mr. Lethan whispered. “You know. The Pockets are isolated for a reason!”
“True. But I’m well equipped to travel,” Bulkee replied at last. “As AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened, I’m endowed with an important Imajigo Trade. It’s called Bionic. And with that I’m free to visit the Pockets.”
“Wait. The legendary AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened?” The eggs asked. “The legendary Imajio Trades?”
Yeah. There went the imaginary nonsense again. My eyes rolled in my head, as I recalled the Red Tiger that Bulkee tricked me into believing, and my utter annoyance when it was nowhere to be found.
I watched the Lethans gaze at Bulkee with admiration as if seeing him for the first time. I decided against sneering, when Bulkee swept his hands and accepted the veneration.
“Drink!” Mrs. Lethan yelled out.
We all swigged, redirecting our attention to the indulgence.
Another pleasant flavor swirled in my mouth, satiating my taste buds. I sat down on the table leaning on my bent elbows. I liked how laidback I felt after the drinks. I no longer felt the need to freeze my expression to mask my nervousness. I could just be as easygoing as everybody else.
“Wonderful!” Mr. Lethan said
“Indeed.” Bulkee concurred.
I nodded agreeably. The tea, the pastries and the intermittent chatting had transcended to a casualness that was very soothing. I grew comfortable, lazy, not wanting to do anything else, even though a faint voice in my head urged me to flee.
I nodded with a noncommittal smile.
“Now we are not strangers to you,” said the egg with the mittens. “Let’s get to know each other over the meal.”
I hesitated and turned to Bulkee. He gave me a shrug and crossed to the table, where treats of all kinds were on a full display.
“The Condensed Pouch,” Mr. Lethan said, as he picked up a big and puffy square. “They are yeast-based pastries. A bite into it brings out the most delicious flavors. Each one is a mystery with stuffing of either blueberry cream, or rosemary, or poppy seed, or cream cheese. Oh, you name it,” he beamed.
He nodded at another plate filled with round and thin pieces of something that resembled flat bread.
“This one is called Flatty Out,” he said. “Do you see a hole in the middle?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “That’s where you poke your head through. After that you just leave it around your neck,” he explained, while prodding his forehead at the Flatty Out.
I watched with wariness heeding his amusement. He wiggled till the giant piece wrapped around his neck like a large sheet of scarf. “Now you can bite into it! The dough has enough elasticity that it’d just be hanging round your neck!”
I was intrigued by the strange demonstration. I glanced over at a plate in front of me. On it there were more than a dozen of galette-like bakeries with folded crusty edges.
“Jojos,” Mr. Lethan twisted and turned inside the Flatty Out as he gestured for us to give it a try.
Bullkee and I each took a Jojo out of the plate. I studied the one in my hand. The pastry curved upward in the shape of a cup, a mustard-colored stuffing filled the crater. When I bit into it, a mixture sweet and sour spread in my mouth, the taste reminding me of strawberries dipped in cheese fondue. Gosh, this is good. I chomped down the whole thing and joined Bulkee in sampling the rest.
While we busied ourselves, Mrs. Lethan brought out four petty cups. She carried them on her chef hat, she flew up to the giant teapot.
There was a shiny plate attached to the spout by four beaded strings. Mrs. Lethan set the tea cuts down on the plate and set it at an angle.
I could see a small silvery ball mounted in the center with matching hooks along the rim of the plate. My eyes trained on Mrs. Lethan, as she secured each cup with one silver hook. A sense of unease crept up my chest because I couldn’t figure out what she was up to.
Leveling right next to the kettle, Mrs. Lethan grabbed the spout and pulled on it in a swift. From the nozzle a milky substance gushed out at once, splashing onto the silver ball. “Milk tea,” she announced, just as the stream bounced off the ball and split into four strands.
The volleys landed precisely onto the four cups that fastened to the hooks. When Mrs. Lethan let go of the spout, the spurts disappeared and steams rose from the cups. A luscious aura filled the room.
“Ah ha! Freshly brewed and ready to be served!” Mr. Lethan beamed. He tapped the kitchen table and jumped onto it. “Climb up!” he called out.
There was a tightness around my jaw. The overly-excited manner of the eggs caused me jitters. And I didn’t trust what was in the kettle. But then again, I didn’t want to be left out when I saw Bulkee join them.
When I clambered onto the table, Mrs. Lethan was coming down from the kettle carrying a small silver stick.
She moved directly below one of the miniature tea cups, she asked us to do the same, each choosing a cup to stand beneath. I took a spot and noticed the shiny plate just inches above my head.
Mrs. Lethan lifted up the silver stick and poked the plate right in the middle. “Drink now!” She hailed.
With the knock, the center of the plate bent upward, flipping the cups and dispensing the refreshment. The speed in which the drink had poured into my parted lips caught me off guard. But I was pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was, like nothing I had ever tasted before.
“Absolutely the most delightful tea I've ever had!” Mr. Lethan declared as if he, too, was having it for the first time.
“Certainly,” Bulkee nodded, blotting his mouth with the corner of a napkin. “Now will you tell us what’s happening?” He brought up the question again.
I thought about the pile of the golden biscuits on my left and decided against grabbing one. I reminded myself that I wasn’t here to hang out. I had to get to the Floating Palace before the Prince won his battle with the Ashendrons, before he could reset everything.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and tried to look unfazed as I waited for their reply.
“Oh. That’s really just routine here,” Mr. Lethan shrugged.
“Yes. Just routine,” Mrs. Lethan carried on the explanation. “At the start of every Cycle we prepare the dough and make bread. The baking is done, when the sun reaches its climax. Then we disperse the loaves through the chimney.” She rose up to the teapot again.
“And that explains the explosion,” Bulkee nodded.
“Right. You two were caught right in it.”
I recalled the downpour of the bread loaves that I had mistaken for rock. I was puzzled by what Mrs. Lethan didn’t mention. “Distribute them to whom?” I asked.
“To the entire Pocket of Origination!” Mr. Lethan flashed a toothless smile of pride.
“Why?” My second question quickly followed.
Now it was the Lethans who had a puzzled look, like they didn’t understand my question. “It’s just customary that we, the sole supplier of bread loaves, provide for all the residents,” Mrs. Lethan waved a mitten dismissively.
“It’s just customary,” Mr. Lethan repeated, gesturing for us to get ready.
When Mrs. Lethan drew on the spout and filled up the cups, everyone’s lips parted. She descended and hit the silver plate with the rod. “Drink now!”
I caught a mouthful. A new flavor with a touch of vanilla. My shoulders dropped and the strain in my muscles began to ease.
“You’re probably exhausted from traveling,” Mrs. Lethan reached the kettle once more.
“And you came from a faraway place. A forest or something?” Mr. Lethan inquired, placing another Flatty Out around his neck.
“Yes. The honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest,” Bulkee cleared his throat. “And I am Bulkee, the great guard of the honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest.”
Before I could jump in to offer my story, Mrs. Lethan poked the plate again. “Now.”
Everyone gulped. Another sweet flavor filled my mouth. I could feel the tension in my body transition into a deep relaxation. I did like the drink. And whatever it was, I needed it.
“So where exactly are you headed?” Mr. Lethan asked with a mouthful.
“To the Floating Palace,” Bulkee replied with a flourish. “I have a request for the Prince and the soon-to-be King of AhohoA.”
“Me too,” I said, fast enough before the stick prodded the plate again.
“And how do the two of you possibly go – ” Mrs. Lethan suddenly lowered her voice as if uttering a taboo.
Not quite sure what she was getting at, I looked to Bulkee. But he met me with silence.
“Go from one Pocket to another?” Mr. Lethan whispered. “You know. The Pockets are isolated for a reason!”
“True. But I’m well equipped to travel,” Bulkee replied at last. “As AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened, I’m endowed with an important Imajigo Trade. It’s called Bionic. And with that I’m free to visit the Pockets.”
“Wait. The legendary AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened?” The eggs asked. “The legendary Imajio Trades?”
Yeah. There went the imaginary nonsense again. My eyes rolled in my head, as I recalled the Red Tiger that Bulkee tricked me into believing, and my utter annoyance when it was nowhere to be found.
I watched the Lethans gaze at Bulkee with admiration as if seeing him for the first time. I decided against sneering, when Bulkee swept his hands and accepted the veneration.
“Drink!” Mrs. Lethan yelled out.
We all swigged, redirecting our attention to the indulgence.
Another pleasant flavor swirled in my mouth, satiating my taste buds. I sat down on the table leaning on my bent elbows. I liked how laidback I felt after the drinks. I no longer felt the need to freeze my expression to mask my nervousness. I could just be as easygoing as everybody else.
“Wonderful!” Mr. Lethan said
“Indeed.” Bulkee concurred.
I nodded agreeably. The tea, the pastries and the intermittent chatting had transcended to a casualness that was very soothing. I grew comfortable, lazy, not wanting to do anything else, even though a faint voice in my head urged me to flee.
