|
"The Finals" (Forest Village) A few days ago the news of a cooking contest spread throughout the Forest Village. Mrs. Penelope Pritchford was locked in her room, singing happily at the maximum volume her voice could reach. At the same moment, a young woman named Wakaba was proving her worth as a chef in another part of the village to the scout for the National Cooking Bonanza. Cecilia stood outside her mother’s room, watching the expensive glassware sitting on the shelf shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. She was pulling on her blond braids in frustration. Exasperated, she walked down the hall and entered her older brother’s room. “CONNELL!” she screamed, desperately trying to be heard over the racket her mother was making. “Do something about Mommy! She’s destroying everything!!” Connell sat on his bed, lost in thought. Cecilia waved her arms frantically, jumping up and down, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately, he was so focused on the melody that had formed in his mind that he was completely oblivious to the madness surrounding him. His eyes looked vacantly off into the distance. He smiled as he heard another dramatic ripple of chords. Cecilia jumped onto the bed and slapped Connell lightly across the face, stirring him out of his trance. He frowned as the tune vanished into oblivion. Seeing his sister seated beside him, he blinked at her in confusion. “Ceely, what-“ “Mommy’s scaring me again! She’s practicing her opera!” Cecilia bounced on the bed. “She is?” Connell asked. He listened for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, now what’s wrong? She has to practice.” Cecilia gave him a meaningful look. “She’s breaking more glasses.” Connell sighed. His younger sister always overreacted to their mother’s singing. Yes, the woman had a powerful voice, but it was a beautiful one. For some reason, Ceely didn’t understand that. Connell loved listening to his mother since she was really inspirational. He didn’t want to interrupt her at work since, although she would not be upset, it would be unfortunate to make her stop singing. But he didn’t want to offend his sister. “All right. Let’s go talk to her together.” The two children got off the bed and walked down the hall to their mother’s room. Connell tried the door, but it was locked. His mother had a bizarre tendency to lock herself in while she was rehearsing and misplace the key. It had become such a problem that another key had been made and given to Cecilia to keep hold of. “It’s locked. I need your key, Ceely.” The girl handed the small key to her brother. He inserted in the door, turned it, and after hearing the loud click of the lock releasing, pushed the door open. Cecilia shoved past him, hands cupped over her ears, yelling. “Mommy, stop! Please!!” The singing stopped, at the climax of a phrase. Connell involuntarily flinched. A phrase left hanging was as bothersome to him as nails scratching down a chalkboard was to most people. He personally found that the scratching nails made a fascinating sound. “What is it, sweetie?” Penelope asked her daughter. She smiled down at the little girl. “Um… I thought it would be nice if the three of us went out now.” Cecilia
looked hopefully at her mother. Connell stared at his sister, confused.
Why was she lying? Lying was bad. He would have to set her straight later
on that matter. It was his duty as the older child to help his sister
“Okay,” Penelope took Cecilia’s hand and they walked towards the door. Connell grinned as his mother approached, and fell into step beside her. “Your singing was lovely today, Mom, but Ceely thought you were brea-“ Connell started to tell his mother the truth of the interruption, but Cecilia suddenly interjected. “I just thought you weren’t getting out enough! That’s all!” she said heatedly. “Now, don’t argue, you two,” Penelope started, laughing. Her laugh was cut off almost instantly as she noticed the shattered remains of her treasured glasses. “What? What happened to my glasses?” she shrieked. “I… Well, I accidentally broke them. I’m sorry, Mommy…” Cecilia looked down at the ground, dragging her foot slowly in a circle. She looked so apologetic that if Connell hadn’t known she was lying, he would have been completely convinced of her guilt. “Oh, Ceely… I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just a bit upsetting. Your father and I brought those back from our last trip.” She suddenly snapped her fingers. “I just remembered! We’re going to be leaving again in a few days. We’ll probably be gone for a few months.” To anyone other children, this would have been devastating news, but
Connell and Cecilia were used to it. As sad as it made them, they had grown
accustomed to their parents’ erratic traveling habits. Both parents were
entertainers and often journeyed to distant lands to perform. Sometimes
they
“A few days?” Cecilia asked, a hint of anger in her young voice. “When were you going to tell us? How are we supposed to have time to prepare? Last time we almost starved!” Penelope blushed, ashamed that her daughter was reprimanding her. Connell spoke up in defense of his mother, not liking the way his sister was acting. “Ceely! We’ll be fine! If it’s food you’re worried about… Well, I know how to cook!” He gave his sister what he thought was a stern look. She rolled her eyes. “Fine! I apologize, Mommy. I’m sorry. Let’s go.” She stalked out of the house. Connell looked at his mother. She seemed worried, but still managed a weak smile for him. “I don’t think your sister understands how important it is to your father and I to do our work. Otherwise, we’ll never have enough money to move out into the big city!” She sighed. “You’ll take good care of her, won’t you, Connell?” Connell nodded vigorously. “Of course!” With that, the two left the house. Outside, a man was yelling, advertising some sort of Cooking Bonanza. Cecilia was skipping around, very excited by the man’s words. She ran back over to the doorstep. “Guess what? There’s this contest, and if we win, we won’t have to worry about starving for a year!” Connell’s eyes, though already large, widened. “Really? How? What kind of contest?” “A cooking contest!” Cecilia jabbed a finger towards her older brother, who involuntarily drew back. “And you’re going to enter it! Since you say you can cook!” “I… Uh, well I guess I could. But what would I make?” he asked, slightly confused. Sometimes Ceely got the weirdest ideas. “Oh, you just leave that to me! Now, go over there and sign up!” She ran behind him and pushed him over to the platform, where the ridiculously dressed man was still bellowing. “Hey there, mister!” She yelled to him. “This is my brother and he wants to enter!” The man looked at the two blond-haired children. “Really? And what is it that you can cook, little boy? Nice hat, kid.” He chuckled, and the crowd joined in. Connell wondered what they thought was so funny. “My brother makes really good muffins! You want to try one?” Cecilia asked the man defensively. Into Connell’s ear she whispered, “Let’s show this guy! He shouldn’t be allowed to laugh at you.” “Sure kid, why don’t you bring me one?” The man laughed again. “You shouldn’t laugh at me,” Connell said innocently. “I promise you’ll think that they’re really good.” This only made the people giggle more. As promised, the man had enjoyed the cranberry muffin thoroughly and had announced to all the spectators that they had found their eighth and final contestant. Connell had still been in a daze, but Cecilia seemed pleased. Since then, Connell had defeated his two opponents easily, an elderly woman and an energetic middle-aged man, and advanced to the final round. Both he had beaten by at least 10 points. Cecilia was right about his aptitude for cooking. Of course, she had helped him with every match. Now, the day of the finals had come. Connell had woken up early and dressed quietly, humming a lively tune
to himself. He was nervous, but not because he didn’t think he could win
today’s contest. Honestly, he didn’t care. But Ceely was gung-ho about
winning it and he really didn’t want to disappoint her. She was his younger
He straightened his hat in the mirror. Once satisfied with his appearance, he woke the rest of his family and they headed down to the designated location for the contest.
"Huh? Oh crap!! Its late!!" The sun was bright, and the sky wasn't the normal hazy purple it was in the morning. "Crap, crap, crap!!!" Wakaba threw on her food stained gi from yesterday, and dashed out the door.
Quite a crowd had gathered around the contest setup. Cecilia and Connell stood beside their ingredients and cooking supplies, waiting. Connell was calm and almost bored, thinking of all the melodies he could be composing instead of waiting for his opponent. Ceely was pacing anxiously. As soon as the announcer arrived, Cecilia jumped at him. “Who’s up today?” The man grimaced at her enthusiasm. “Wakaba Syung Kyung. She’s from around here and she’s done very well. You may find that she’ll actually be some competition.” “I’m sure Connell will win! He’s my big brother and he’s amazing!” The man seemed about to make a rude comment, but Connell smiled winningly at him, trying to keep the peace. “Ceely, I’m sure she’s very good. Let’s set up.” He hoped Cecilia wouldn’t continue attacking the poor announcer. The time for the competition to begin came and went. Ten minutes passed. Cecilia nervously walked back and forth along the platform. Another ten minutes passed.
"It looks like if Wakaba does not show up, she will be disqualified and Connell will be the winner." "Wait!! Wait!!!" Wakaba ran faster than she ever had before. She leapt up onto the cooking platform. "The Cooking Battle between Wakaba and Connell will begin now. The limit for this match is two hours." Wakaba went straight to work once more. "Hmm. The appetizer. Hmm. Sausage. Blackened sausage patties with syrup. Next the main course, uhh. How about pancakes, with maple syrup and lots and lots of butter. And dessert. Uhh. Dessert with breakfast? Hmm. Vanilla ice cream. I say what the hell." Wakaba turned into a cooking tornado. Batter was flying everywhere as she made the pancakes, and the sausage blackened to a nice, fine crisp. Then the ice cream was made and two of the judges seemed to enjoy the sight of it.
Connell and Cecilia, having already discussed their plans, didn’t hesitate for a moment. The two of them, while not being the quickest workers, were very meticulous. While Wakaba tossed ingredients around like a madwoman, the brother/sister team kept their area tidy. A few of the judges were very impressed. Cecilia handed ingredients to Connell as he called for them and offered
encouragement. Connell could tell that based on the enthusiasm of his opponent
that he wouldn’t win this match as easily as the others. He wished he knew
what she was making so that he could be sure that his choices were
"Alright. The scoring will begin now." It was decided that Connell would be scored first. "My appetizer is blueberry muffins, baked with butter inside the mix." The judges took a few bites, and seemed pleased. "5." "4." "3." "2." "Very good scores for Connell." Wakaba was determined to win. No little boy was going to stop her. She then placed her appetizer in front of the judges. "Blackened sausage patties, with syrup generously poured on them." The judges began eating and once more seemed very pleased. "5." "4." "3." "2." "Amazing ladies and gentleman!! The same score!!!" Connell smirked smugly. "Finally, a challenge," he said quietly to himself. "My next dish is a plate of Belgian Waffles, smothered in syrup." Gobble... Snarf... Snap... "4." "4." "3." "3." "Very good scores ladies and gentleman. How is Wakaba going to stand to that???" Wakaba looked a little worried. "Umm. My next dish is pancakes, uhh, with butter, and mmm, syrup." Gobble... Snarf... Snap... "4." "4." "3." "3." "Hmm. Very good scores. Huh? The same scores!!" "This is a stunning match ladies and gentlemen. The current situation is... both Wakaba and Connell have the same scores at 28!!! It is all tied up and the winner will soon be decided!!!”
Everyone held their breath as the final dishes were brought out. The announcer looked at them and gasped. Both contestants looked strangely at him before proceeding. “For dessert, I made chocolate ice cream.” “What?!?” Wakaba shrieked. The judges sampled it. “1.” “4.” “0.” “5.” “Well, those certainly are some mixed scores!” The announcer giggled nervously. “And now, for the final course by Wakaba!” “MY dessert is VANILLA ice cream,” Wakaba said with a glare towards Connell. “Whaaat?” Connell said, confused. Cecilia crossed her arms and glared back. The judges, after exchanging amused glances, tried the other ice cream. “5.” “0.” “4.” “2.” There was a moment of silence as everyone calculated the results. “Wow! What an exciting competition! The winner, by a score of 39 to 38, is Wakaba!” The announcer exhaled deeply, glad that the competition was finally over. “Congratulations to the new Champion of the National Cooking Bonanza! Thank you for your interest, ladies and gentlemen, and we’ll see you next year.” “NOOOO!” Cecilia cried out. “Now we’re going to starve!” She fell to the ground and began to sob pitifully. Connell tried comforting her but she kept telling him it was his fault. “Why couldn’t you be a better cook?” Connell didn’t know what to say so he stood there awkwardly, looking apologetic. Finally, he took his hat off and sat down beside her, stroking her blond braids and telling her that it would be okay. Wakaba watched the two siblings, not sure how to react. Were they really going to starve? The girl looked disappointed and the boy looked distressed. Wakaba didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. “As a reminder, all contestants will receive a year’s worth of free food from the Fuchsia Dragon! This event was sponsored by the Fuchsia Dragon, the best variety in town! Goodbye now!” The announcer and his crew packed up and left in a few short moments. Cecilia had stopped crying at this statement. She, Connell, and Wakaba all looked at the announcer in bewilderment. “So what does the winner get?” Wakaba asked. The announcer grinned at her. “The knowledge that you are the best chef in this village, as decreed by the National League of Cooking! Isn’t that marvelous?” The three of them continued to stare at him. He kept grinning. “What a stupid contest!” Cecilia finally exclaimed. She gave Connell a huge hug. “I’m so sorry I was mean to you! You’re the best brother I could ever have. Now we can eat!” Connell was perplexed. What had the point of that contest been anyway? Had he really spent three days cooking when he could have been studying a beautiful composition? Such a waste. He shook his head. “Oh well,” Wakaba said. “At least I get the free food.” Thus ended the magnificent National Cooking Bonanza.
| ||||
