Love In The Time Of Pandemic

Chapter 6

Stepping into the food tent, I noticed everyone in the tent perk up at my presence. They had been mumbling under their breath about something until then.

"What's going on, ladies and gentlemen? Something you want to speak to me about?" Cellie wasn't in the tent right now, and I felt like her presence had disturbed the auras of the other food workers. There were six ladies and two gentlemen, all of whom had worked in fancy restaurants back in the day. They were chefs of a certain rigour and I'm sure sending someone like Cellie to help them would have irked the hell out of them. But there was nothing else I could do with that. I'm not in charge of staffing at the camp, thankfully. That was Sharon's job, and if she said, someone was going to work somewhere, no one complained about it to her. They all came to me.

"Ah, Gordon, good thing you are here, my boy. There's something we all need to speak to you about. Something that has been bothering us, but you know how we all are here in the food tent - we just slave away all day long, creating delicious foods for all of you, never complaining, never taking a day off. We deserve a raise to be honest, but as money doesn't really exist anymore, I think the least you can do is listen to our complaints and be there for us when we want to vent." That was a long speech considering the chefs at camp were quiet folks, who liked the simple life of cooking and more cooking.

I was surprised. But I kept the expression on my face neutral and open. I needed to listen to them no matter what they complained about. That was my duty as a leader, but also as a placate-r of all of these broken souls. It can't be pleasant for anyone to go from cooking for five-star gourmet restaurants to some hodgepodge souls in a rebel camp.

"Yes, of course, Nathan. I'm here for all of you. Please tell me what ails you."

"Ails you? Why did I just say that?" I thought, worried that they were going to take it as a mocking of their situation. But they were too busy in their heads and in their complaint mode to even listen to what I had said.

"Yes, good. That's what I like about you. You are a good leader. A fine leader. The only thing that I think you are a little lax about is letting people into this camp willy-nilly. I just don't understand why you can't be a little bit more discerning in that regard. I hear from the grapevine that Celeste's mother might be someone dangerous and that it could put the entire camp into danger holding her here. Why would you do something like that? In fact, why not just send Celeste back to her mother and let them do their thing together. It would be better for everyone involved. Instead, you foist her upon us, a complete imbecile at cooking, I don't know what we are supposed to do with her in the food tent. We don't have time to train someone else. We are busy enough as it is."

Uh, what is this rumour about Cellie's mother being a dangerous person? Most of running a camp like this is about allaying false rumours and making sure that everyone who believes stupid rumours like this, is placated, consoled, and corrected. Not a part of my job that I enjoy one bit!

"Yes, okay. Well, firstly, you were the one who kept on bugging me telling me that you are overworked, and understaffed. I don't have any sous chefs that willingly walk into camp looking for jobs, so I have to give you the folks that are actually interested in spending hours and hours in a hot tent, cooking over a wood-fire. Secondly, if I knew that Cellie or her connections would put any of you into danger, I would absolutely not have allowed her entry into this camp. In fact, the opposite is true. You have probably wondered why we haven't had any opposing rebels coming into camp and trying to blast us into space. It's because Cellie's mother has put an order to protect our camp, since her daughter is in here. She is using her power to protect us, not to harm us, and that can only be a positive."