Echoes of Home

52 - Tsu'na

I have not had chocolate in a while. It is a low-level recipe. We soon learn how to make better healer food. But in Earth people apparently eat it for pleasure. Certainly the chocolate Husband brought me does not affect my piety. But I do like the taste, even if it is milder than I remember.

We made chocolate in Eorzea using kukuri beans, which grew in La Noscea. But La Noscea is a collection of islands surrounded by ocean, and the ocean here is a thousand malms away. Husband tells of places called Jamaica and Bahamas, which are even further away. If I want to make chocolate now I must find a source of kukuri beans or a substitute.

Husband had an idea for changing people's perception of us. He said that normal couples argue, so we would seem more normal if we were seen and heard arguing. We have argued before, but the things we argue about are things we do not talk about with Earth people. Husband thought we should argue about things that are stupid and not important, and only sometimes.

Husband called this developing "shtick": "a gimmick, comic routine, style of performance, etc. associated with a particular person."

We tried it with May. We went shopping at her store together, which we had not done before. Her store has sliced bread and "sub rolls", so Husband got one and I got the other and we met at the register and argued about which we should buy. "Sub rolls are better for sandwiches!" "Sliced bread is better for peanut butter!" It was certainly a stupid thing to argue about.

After we argued for a bit, we stopped, we looked at each other, we kissed, and we told May we would take both. She was chewing on her lip. I think she was trying not to laugh at us. Perhaps now I am more a woman who argues with her husband rather than a cat that does not want to be petted.

Husband called this developing "context": "the circumstances that form the setting for an event, statement, or idea, and in terms of which it can be fully understood and assessed."

There was not much of the afternoon left, so Husband went to the Pit to check the shed before dinner. I shifted to Ninja, Stealthed, and went to the diner to see what patterns I could observe.

We usually see young people at night. The people during the day were older -- adults eating alone, or in pairs, or with children. I went by the tables, listening to the conversations. Most of them were not about Husband or me, which was encouraging, yet not useful.

The one table with people talking about me appeared to be a family. I recognized the boy and girl at the table; they had come into the diner more than once during our shift. The adults were probably their parents.

"But Mom! All the kids come here at night! It's real popular! And it's safe too...it's not like we're going to parties and stuff."

"I don't know how safe it is. I heard the woman who works here has tattoos and body piercings. She could be dangerous."

"Miz Tsu'na's nice! She's just into comics and video games!"

"Still, you should be home working on your schoolwork."

"We do our studying here sometimes!"

I did not understand "body piercings". Did the woman mean my earrings? I saw several women with earrings in town. I did not understand why they were a problem.

What I did understand was a problem was that we had been worried about people who had seen me, yet this woman had never seen me and was still unhappy about me.

I could at least change her not having seen me. I went into the kitchen, switched to Earth normal, got a serving tray and set out four apple pies from inventory onto saucers. Then I turned. "Mr. Hartman? Can you help me with something?"

He was at the grill. He started and spun around. "Jesus, girl! Where'd you come from?" He looked me up and down. "You need help?"

I gestured to the pies. "How can I make these different?"

"Different how?"

"At all."

He stared at me, then looked at the pies. "They still warm?"

"Yes."

He got a brush from among the tools near the grill and brushed a small amount of butter onto each. Then he got a bowl and poured in sugar and cinnamon and stirred them together. He sprinkled the mixture across the pies, where it stuck to the melted butter.

I am a Culinarian. He is a cook.

"That what you need?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

He watched me carry the tray out of the kitchen. I went to the table with the family and addressed the girl. "Hello. I have seen you here in the evening, have I not?"

"Sure! We come here all the..." She stopped and looked at her mother. "...I mean, we did, yeah."

"I thought so. Perhaps you can help me...I am trying something new with the apple pies. Could you try them and let me know what you think?"

The man spoke up. "We didn't order these."

I smiled and set the saucers on the table. "They are free for our valued customers. Enjoy your day."

The boy and girl looked eager. The parents stared at the plates. I took the tray back to the kitchen.

Mr. Hartman was still watching as I came back in. "Advertising?"

I thought of what Husband might say. "Community-building."

"Same thing."

Later, Husband called it developing "presence".