Hearing My plea

9

That night I was helping in the kitchen, arranging pizzas on the counter for everyone, washing plates and making juice. The cooks didn't say much except to tell me what I needed to do, and I didn't complain. The hot water felt good on my skin from washing the dishes, and it was the first time in a long time I had felt warm.   

At eight the cooks left, leaving me with instruction to wash the next fifty or so dishes and to put the cookies in the oven to serve as desert to everyone after dinner, and also that someone would be in soon to help out. I nodded and waved, saying goodnight before deflating against the kitchen counter and relaxing.  

The cookies were in the oven, and I sill had an entire sink the size of my bathtub at home full of dishes to do. In order to stay awake, I put on some good old Stevie Ray Vaughan. His deep voice kept me awake as I washed all the dishes, the bubbles ending up in my hair, but it was nice, feeling like a kid playing with the suds in the tub. I wish life was that easy.   

Just then someone came in behind me through the door to the dinning hall, whistling the tune to the Stevie song playing. They walked up next to me, grabbed the towel and began drying the dishes.   

I jumped nearly a foot in the air when I realized it was Aspen.   

"You like Vaughan?" he asked, not looking up from the dish he was drying.  

I didn't even bother to answer his question. "What are you doing here?"  

He chuckled and put the dish on the counter where he continued to dry and stack. "I help in here sometimes. Usually in the mornings, but I heard you got sent here as punishment, and, well, I wanted to make sure you didn't burn the cookies," he joked, bumping his arm into mine.   

"Okay," I said, unsure. When all the dishes were done, I leaned against the counter, listening to Stevie, and Aspen began gathering the foods needed for tomorrows breakfast so that the cooks could spare some time.   

"Is this cheddar, or colby jack?" he asked, holding out a plate of orange cheese. I walked over and took a slice, tasting it for myself. I could always distinguish cheeses, I loved cheese.  

"Cheddar," I said, taking another slice and popping it in my mouth. Aspen rose an eyebrow.  

"Oh? And how are you so sure?"  

"I could name every cheese you could think of," I boasted. "Cheese is my love."  

"Your love, huh?" he asked, laughing under his breath. "I guess I'll just have to trust you, then?"  

I nodded, going over to the oven to check the cookies. "You should. I know my cheeses." The timer on the oven dinged just as I opened it up. "Cookies are done!"   

Aspen set the frosting and knives on the counter as I set the cookie tray on the island counter. After they cooled, we began to spread blue, green, yellow and red frosting on the sugar cookies shaped like angels, stars, and Christmas trees, since they were the only cookie cutters the cooks and I could find, to Stevie's "Life by the drop".  

Aspen and I quietly sang along. "That's how it happens living life by the drop."  

I was going to set the finished cookies on the counter where the pizza used to be for people to take, when Aspen came up from behind me and spread blue frosting all along my face. I gasped and turned on him, running around the counter before he could attack again.  

He grinned at me evilly, scooping up some fresh red and making his way around the island. I moved the other way, scooping up some green frosting of my own and ducking under the table, quietly making my way around two of the sides.