The Recipe

The Recipe: Elizabeth

I am standing beside the school, looking out at a campus of trees and blue sky with the building an oblong shadow on my left. I'm waiting for them, breathing in the fresh air, absorbing the warm rays of sun on my face, drinking in the beauty of the day. I've been in class for hours, and it's nice to get out. The weight resting on my shoulders is not only school supplies in the backpack, but also something strange - a shoulder of pork, ready to be cooked. To make room for this I've had to shuffle some of my books out of the bag and now I carry them in my arms.

I don't have to wait long. I see the two of them walking toward me, smiles on their faces. It's my boyfriend Dante, and on his left, our friend Kace. Kace is just like this mewing, bumbling kitten with light blue, forget-me-not eyes that you just can't ignore and you can't help but grudgingly let in. Her slightly unruly hair hangs like a cloud around her face, puffing out near apples of her cheeks and then thinning again near her chin. They have a few classes together in the counselling/psychology vein. We let her into our friend group not because of this but because we all have something in common.

And right on cue, The Witches walk by. They are dark of hair and attitude and we think they're up to something. These are the mean girls, the snobby girls, the ones who would do anything for popularity. Kace was taunted by a couple of them when she was younger, and another one used to be my best friend before she betrayed me. And now, because it's a small town, we're all freshmen in the next biggest town's college together, trying to figure this whole thing out.

When they get close, Dante grabs both of my arms just below the shoulder, swings the hair out of his eyes, and kisses me. I feel the warm energy surging through my body.

"Have you got it?" He asks in a throaty whisper.

"Yes, let's get going," I reply, swinging my straight brown hair as I turn down the path. We talk about school as we walk.

At the main road we turn to exit the campus, walk a few blocks and then take a shortcut through the cemetery to the green belt behind it. A trail through the trees leads to my uncle's old trailer. He left it in a small piece of property just off the green belt but when he moved to Alberta he gave it to my dad who had no use for it. It's been our clubhouse ever since.

We settle in the cabin, where there is everything we need for hanging out for hours. Dante sits on the cushioned bench and Kace has taken a seat at the table. There's a silence while I put oil into the pan but it's not awkward. Then I pull a diet coke out of the fridge, and take a seat beside him.

"Kace, did you ask your Aunt?" I probe.

"Yeah, I talked to her and she said tomorrow after school Dante can take a look at the books."

Dante shifts nervously, and shakes the hair out of his eyes. "You guys know I'm taking a risk doing this, right?"

"Yeah, but if you see anything that looks off, then we have proof."

"Not that we could ever use it without getting fried ourselves," he says.

"But we would know," points out Kace, "And then we could keep looking until we do find something we can use."

"C'mon. It's for a good cause. And you know they're up to something," I say definitively.

"Yeah, I know. Just don't know what." He scratches his head and I lean over to kiss him on the cheek. He is the only person I've ever seen with olive skin and freckles. He is half Japanese, with straight dark hair and green eyes, tall and lanky, emotive and intelligent. He is going in for a Psychology degree, doing free counselling at the student center.