SUMMER COOK OUT 2022

Wanda finds that it is kind of fun to go out and about on her own. She is so used to being stuck at home, working on her latest projects, that she rarely ventures out beyond Woolhope unless she is going with someone specifically. Last time, it was Pepper, but Pepper adamantly did not want to go to the Hidden Garden during the summer.

Wanda thought to ask why, but knowing what she knows about Pepper so far, it’s best to let her approach instead of being too inquisitive. Wanda does not fear Pepper’s darkness, but Wanda also is not foolish enough to know that the darkness is capable of distinguishing who is and is not a threat to it. Wanda accepts that anger and hatred, but does not want to be unraveled by it.

It’s odd when she thinks about it. The image of the overwhelming rhododendron bush that eclipses the sun is not the only thing she sees when she ruminates on her new friend. There is an other there as well. An other that she cannot parse. It’s too confusing to her for right now, and she knows better than to pry where she need not pry.

For now, she wants to contribute to the cookout taking place in one of the Hidden Garden’s many open areas. This one looks well worn. There’s many picnic tables and grills available for use. Supposedly, there is going to be a big feast later on in the day to welcome Dipsi, the sea god, and Fleur, the spring god into the Hidden Garden for the time they will be here.

Wanda is immediately overwhelmed with all the fanfare. Not just the smells and sounds, but the visions that come from this place. She sees a world vastly different than this. A world crafted of shells, and repetitive motions that barely change. She sees the threads that made the unknowable foxes and it is hard to tell what is supposed to be real and what is supposed to be…symbolic.

“Hey, pay attention!”

Wanda is at the grills. She wanted to try her hand at making burgers and hotdogs since that seemed the easiest to make compared to huge roasts and fancy cakes, but she is undoubtedly distracted. The assistant fox that is with her is sort of rude, but has experienced quite the overwhelming set of expectations. This is supposed to be perfect because dealing with the gods is supposed to be a big deal.

She issues a short apology and reties her hair up. It’s fallen out of the bun so many times that she is close to giving up, but she should be doing her due diligence.

She is the one who came out here to help anyway.

Wanda ties her hair again and grabs a spatula to tend to the burgers this time. The grill is large and flat and there’s hamburger buns and slices of cheese and lettuce and onions and pickles everywhere. It starts off nicely.

After a while, the assistant fox from earlier apologizes to her for yelling so much and she forgives them because she was being a little bit spacey. It comes with the territory but she doesn’t feel like explaining why her mind wanders so much. While the foxes in Woolhope have grown comfortable around her and witchcraft, others outside of the small hamlet are not always as open to skill sets that are unexplainable.

She usually just answers with intuition when pushed, but it is what it is.

The, uh, quality of the burgers is not very good for very long. As orders come in and foxes are eagerly constructing their own sandwiches as the patties are flying off the grill, it gets to be a bit hectic. Wanda flips them too often so they become meaty pucks that are inedible to all but the most stubborn of Blobbys. Too fast and the ground meats are barely held together with a pathetic sear that looks cartoonish in its color and presentation. Poison if they had been living and breathing creatures.

Some of the meat pucks are taken without too much inspection, along with the floppy meat “patties” that barely hold their shape. The assistant is getting more and more worked up as everything is devolving into chaos.

“Keep them on the grill longer!”

There’s the yelling again and Wanda obliges. She is watching to make sure they are cooked. She sees that the life of the place is cloaked in so much mystery. In some of her visions, she sees tumultuous and chaotic fear. Corn and skewers, food that makes one return to their hollow repetitions. There is running, holes opening up in the ground. The god’s wrath under a different name. Hands and dolls.

It’s sunny always and it bakes the world. Crabbots by the ocean loads. So many shells. It’s horrible. Hilarious. Ten words for a number, she imagines. The funniest one of them all.

More yelling. Wanda is watching the patties! She is. They are clearly not cooked all the way through. She is adamant about doing a good job. And if she gets a little lost along the way, it’s not as big of a deal, is it?

When she flips them, it’s like turning over a piece of charcoal. This is, without a doubt, cooked through and through. The only reason it probably was not on fire was because it had burned so thoroughly that a fire couldn’t take hold. Can’t burn something that can’t give the fire fuel.

And it keeps happening like this. She cooks every single burger to charcoaled perfection. Cooked all the way through, delicious if this is your sort of burger. There are, however, absolutely zero compliments. Nothing to the chef, the assistant, to god. Eventually, the lines thin out. When the big feast is about to be underway, Wanda doesn’t stick around, mainly because it is kind of her fault for dreaming when she was supposed to be cooking.

To be quite fair, the sign only said they needed someone willing to flip burgers. It had said nothing about how good they had to be.