The smell! That's what got him going. Yeah..something wet, sticky, and dank. His finger reached behind the wheels of the dumpster. He could feel the pebbly surface of the orange as it lay in the shadows. His fingers closed around it and one finger sunk into the mush up to a knuckle. No matter. He brought it to his face and inhaled the odor of rot. Squeezing now, some sticky juice dribbled down his arm onto his sleeve. He smeared the rest on his lips and rough beard where it hung in patches. Licking with his tongue he brought the fetid mass inside his mouth and let it lay there before he spit it across the alley. Ah, that was good. That felt like something! Yes...that's what he was after.
The smell. Again...it got him going. He found her body in the alley behind the dumpster. Her legs akimbo, panties down and shirt pushed high over her face. His fingers reached beyond her clothes and her skin was loose. It moved under his hand and a finger sunk into mush, all the way in. No matter . He brought his hand to his face and inhaled the odor of rot. Rotten blood. Again, squeezing now, blood dripping and oozing down his arm onto his clothes. He smeared more on his lips and harsh stubble where it stuck in red patches. Licking his tongue on his lips he brought them closer until he could suck her mass into his mouth. He chewed before he inhaled and he spit it with all his might through the air where it hit a wall and slowly slid to the ground. Ah. That was good. That felt like something! Yes, that was what he was after.
The light from the door glowed casting shadows into the alley as he paused before returning to work. He looked around the busy kitchen . The smell! That's what got him going. Yeah, something cooking, fresh and earthy. Something spicy and flavorful! He could hardly wait to get back. He moved to the sink where he rolled up his sleeves, his fingers wrapped around the soap and he felt the lather bubble against his skin. No matter. He brought the fluff to his nose and inhaled the ivory richness. Slicking it off his arms he drew them through the warm water on the way to the towel. He brought it to his lips and once around his face. He must remember to shave tomorrow, he thought. He leaned down and took a drink under the faucet. From the counter he lifted his hat, placed it on his head and spat into the sink. He took the big ladle and dipped it into the boiling soup. Cooling it with pursed lips, he drank. Ah, that was good. That felt like something...yes! That was what he was after.
"Chef?' His eyes met those of the sous chef, Andre. "What is it', he barked. Timidly, the young man took the folded newspaper from under his arm. "Look, Chef, the review is in! He thinks you deserve the Michelin! In fact, let me quote, ....'a redolent repast with depths I've not encountered before. This is a chef's chef, a master! Born with the innate tools now honed to perfection. A winner!" The youth glowed with excitement.
Ah...yes! That was what he was after.
"Ah. That was good. That felt like something! Yes, that was what he was after."
ReplyDeleteI think you have the beginnings of a delicious children's book.
It does have a 'three little pigs' quality to it!
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure I want to finish it. The task for me was to make this guy's baser motivations cut across the spectrum of normalcy so we might identify our selves therein and thereby give him a surprising humanity. Sucking a rotten orange...yuck. Sucking out the lady....yuck and incomprehensible. But, appreciating the soup (in exactly the same way) puts him in a position (which I would expand later) of someone looked up to , a gourmand, if you will. Twenty minutes didn't get me there. But, I'm not even sure I want to go there. I've never written anything remotely gooey like this.
ReplyDeleteOkay...so, I went there. See? He's an Everyman, just in need of appreciation and an acknowledgement of his God given talent... Sound familiar?
ReplyDeleteI have read and thought about this story three times at least since you left the last comment, and fresh again this morning, with the story gaining increasing importance to me.
ReplyDeleteI am not repulsed by this fellow. I don't find him despicable. I like him! He needs a bath and has a chilling hobby, but I find him fascinating. If he is meant to be an Everyman, a character that you easily identify with in a morality play, then you succeeded.
I liked him in the first part, that is how I approach reading. I see myself willing to grab up a story and get gooey reading it. I once spit out a John Irving story across the room! I almost considered 'losing' the library book so no one else would ever have to read it after me. If I had owned the book, I might have done what JC did once, throw the book out the door. Literally.
This chef cooks for the accolades? He strives to be a star? The ending changes my perception of him and I spend more time considering his motives and his character. We all need appreciation and recognition, none of us write in a vacuum, but now I am unsettled and wary of him, again.
I will need more thought. He and I will sit together, (and god, does he ever bathe?) and we will talk some more of the nature of art and the striving for excellence.
Oh shoot...I wrote a good response to this and didn't save it...now, it's gone and I have to recreate it. Oh, well...
ReplyDeleteUh...boy, when I've already used my best ideas it's hard to get them back....My point was the ambiguity of the last sentences could indicate he's looking at(smelling) the young man in a new light. I doubt he is after the accolades. They just come because he is by nature extra sensitive to odor and texture. He's a natural!
I think he is only driven by his baser needs, an animal. He will be lifted up, exalted maybe, by society striving for its own perfections of taste. It won't change him.
On purpose, I left out the 'felt like something' in the final use of the phrase because I wanted to convey he felt nothing because he wasn't engaged in the activity of savoring.
It would be easy to make him more approachable if he truly is after a goal of something we all strive for, but I was being facetious when I alluded to that in my response. In fact, I was speaking of myself! Needy as I am!
I do admire him because he is so base and unaffected by society. Admire? No, that's the wrong word. Recognize? Maybe...yes, I recognize him in us all but usually buried below many layers of civilization. Frankenstein's monster without a heart.
I may not have made him approachable at all. But, I hoped the adoration of the critic would mold the reader's response in that way.
Thanks for looking at it. I truly want the feedback. (and the appreciation and the accolades... geez that's disturbing!)