A Storm in the Making

Chapte 16--Last Meal

Chapter Sixteen

Last Meal

   Once we were back on the main pathway, Julius steered us around towards the west end of the building.  The green had faded out of the sunset, leaving an ugly brown smeared across the sky.  It made the sky look tired and wore out, kind of like I felt at the moment.

   “This is the north end of the monastery, so If you get lost, get someone to point you in a northerly direction.  It is easier to get your bearings if you come outside to the pathways.  Inside the monastery, it can be quite confusing at first.”

The pathway curled out of sight around the west end of the monastery.  I glanced back over my shoulder at the people who still watched us.

   “You will get to see them tomorrow in class.”  Julius tugged me by the hand, which he still held. 

   “Class?”  I asked. 

   He shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s just easier to teach groups than individuals.  We’ve tried different methods, but classes are the most practical.”

   “Classes are the most practical for what!”  I felt my voice rising on the last word as I snatched my hand away from him like I’d been stung.

   “For preparing….you for life…on this planet,” Julius spoke hesitantly, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

   “I’m.  Not.  Staying.  Here.”  I informed him, enunciating each word separately and distinctly.

   “And just how do you propose to leave?”  Julius had a way of arching one eyebrow when he was amused.  He did that now.

   I know Julius thought I was kidding, but I wasn’t.  Off over to the northwest I could see over the tree-covered hillside to the gateway standing like an abscess on a boil.  I shuddered and turned away.  I couldn’t even bear to look at it.  Even thinking about going through that vortex again nauseated me.  But I would do it if I had to--if it was the only way off this planet.

   “Good luck with that,” Julius shrugged, unashamedly reading my mind.  He took my hand again silently.  I didn’t have much to say as he steered me towards a hidden door that seemed to be buried in the stonework on the west side of the monastery.  It was the door from which the good smells had been wafting.

   A loud cacophony of sounds and delicious smells bombarded my senses the second Julius opened the door.   The kitchen was a busy, hot, noisy, place.  The clatter of pots and pans was deafening.

    Cries of “Watch yourself.”  “Hot Stuff coming north.”  “Clovis, could you raise the temperature, please.”  “We need more rolls set to rise.”  “I need more plates.” and similar cries filled the air like a madhouse.

   Julius bent, ducked, or stepped to the side, as needed, towing me along behind him as we wove our way through that monstrous kitchen.  We had almost made it to the opposite end of the kitchen to a huge double door that I assumed was Julius’ goal when the cry of “Storm!” stopped me in my tracks. 

   Chloe and, of all people my brother, Andrew, were cleaning out large baskets of dirty dishes beside a counter near that double door.  They were scraping the scraps from the plates into wooden buckets before stacking the dishes on a long wooden counter where three girls  that I had seen on the hilltop, but hadn’t met yet were scrubbing them in pans of soapy water, rinsing them in another pan, before stacking them to dry on another part of the counter.

   “Storm, you did it!  I’m so glad that’s over for you. ”   Chloe was referring to my decontamination, obviously.  Her enthusiasm was off the chart and I had to wonder how much my brother had to do with that.