Authors: Robin Brande
And then my mind wandered over to my conversation with Mr. Fizer this afternoon, and then to some of the conversations we've had in the past about what was and wasn't working with my project.
And then strangely, Jordan and Mr. Fizer morphed together.
--you're a bright young woman--
--not something you can control--
--your body just takes over--
--astonishing amount of chemical adulteration in our food supply--
--leave that to you to research more fully--
--impressed by your analysis of whether early hominins used fire--
--your body automatically goes weak--
Stop. There.
My hand halted mid-scrub. A sort of buzzing went through me, like a low level of electrical shock. I felt alive and awake as my brain quickly worked through the formula.
What if--
What if the human anatomy reacts to stimuli in the environment, whether it's positive or negative--
What if
Homo erectus
reacted to a positive stimulus--the existence of fire--by undergoing a radical change in anatomy, improving and streamlining the body--
But what if--
The same thing is happening right now. Only in reverse. Modern humans are reacting to negative stimuli--bad food, junk food, chemically tainted food--by undergoing a new radical change. But this time instead of improving and streamlining, we're growing bodies that are fat and riddled with disease--
And what if--
My original premise was right, and we can fix ourselves by returning to the simple habits of our ancestors, back before ice cream and potato chips and microwave hot dogs--
I mean, what if this is much bigger than I thought? It's not just about me at all. It's about reversing a dangerous, destructive trend in human physiology before our species ends up worse than it is.
Oh my gosh.
It'll be like convincing people to stop throwing garbage into the sea.
Only I'm going to convince them to stop throwing it into themselves.
46
"H
UGE crisis,"
Amanda announced.
She burst into my room before the ten p.m. cutoff my parents have set for all visiting friends, crisis or not. And even though I was right in the middle of my research, saving our species would have to wait.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Amanda dove face-first onto my bed and groaned into the pillows.
"What's wrong?" I asked again. Amanda might be dramatic at times, but usually she has a good reason.
She rolled over onto her back. "Darlene just called me."
"Darlene ... from the Karmic Cafe?"
"Yes. She thinks she has to shut it down."
"Why?"
"No one comes in there, she's not making the rent--"
"That's because her food is awful," I said. "I'm sure the only time people go there is for Poetry Night."
"I know. And she said this Saturday's Poetry Night is probably going to be the last. Can you believe it? What are we going to do?"
"What do you mean--what
can
we do?"
Amanda sat up and hugged one of my pillows to her chest. "You should have heard her--it was so sad. She was crying and blowing her nose and I could barely understand her half the time. She's really such a sweet woman. But I have no idea why she thought she could run a restaurant."
"It's been there awhile, hasn't it?"
"Almost two years, Darlene said. But her lease is up next month, and she doesn't think she can renew. She's been borrowing all this money from her elderly parents, and now they're having trouble--I got the whole story."
"Why did she call you?" I asked. "I mean, it's not like you're friends with her."
"No, but she knows how much Poetry Night means to me, and she wanted to let me know this was the last one, in case I wanted to write something special." Amanda buried her face in the pillow. I heard through the stuffing, "This sucks."
Then she sat up and took a breath. "We have to save it somehow. We can't just let her close it down."
"How? We don't have any money."
"Yeah, but we have friends, don't we? We could make Jordan start bringing the whole swim team there, we could put flyers all over school--"
"Nobody's going to come more than once," I said. "You know that. Darlene can't cook."
And then Amanda's eyes narrowed. She looked at me like I was dinner.
"You can cook," she said.
"No--"
"Yes you can. You can cook." Amanda was getting revved up. "And then you can teach Darlene to cook. And people will come there. And they will love it. And then more people will come, and you will save the cafe. You, Chef Cat, can come to her rescue."
"No--"
"And I'll go work for her. I'll be her hostess, or a waitress, or whatever she needs. And I'll redecorate the place. And make sure people actually know how to serve there--none of this attitude like some of those waitresses give us. I'll teach them how to be nice to the customers, and how to dress right, and what to say to keep people ordering more--"
Heaven help us when Amanda is on a roll.
"That's what I'll do," she said. "I'll quit my job at Olympus and get someone to cover this weekend's shifts so my boss won't hate me. Then I'll go work for Darlene right away. I won't even charge her for a month--I'll just work off of tips. And you, Kitty Cat, need to start cooking right away. Like tomorrow. Start figuring out some new recipes so we can bring in new customers by the weekend--"
"Can I please say something here?" I interrupted. "NO."
"Why?" Amanda said. "You know you'd love it! It would be like having our own cafe again, but this time for
real
. I'm sure Darlene would let us come in there and do whatever we want. You should have heard her tonight--she's desperate. Plus you and I can run that place a thousand times better than she can."
"No. I can't. I'm serious." It all sounded like a dream. But I had to be realistic. "Amanda, I have so much work to do. I already have a job, remember?"
"So quit it--"
"I'm not quitting. I like it there."
"So you could work at the cafe on the weekends," Amanda said.
"Except I have homework. And I have to cook for my own family, remember? I just don't have any more time."
"But this is
important,"
Amanda said. "And I know you're very organized. You can figure out a way, can't you?"
This time when she stared me down, it was so much more pathetic. She wasn't demanding, she was pleading.
And I felt myself starting to give in.
"I don't know how to cook vegetarian," I tried.
"Of course you do. You cook it all the time--all those vegetable dishes, those soups, those fabulous zucchini muffins--come on, Kit Cat, don't you think the world deserves your muffins?"
If Amanda were a puppy at the animal shelter, she'd be adopted in a flash. There's no way anyone could resist that pitiful face.
"Besides," Amanda said, "I can guarantee that everyone would rather eat your absolute worst vegetarian meal than any of Darlene's best. You
know
that's true."
I closed my eyes and heaved out a sigh. And Amanda knew she had won.
She jumped off my bed and hugged me. "Thank you! Thank you! You won't regret it--I mean it. We can really do something good here. We can save Darlene from ruin and still make a home for poetry. It's the most noble thing you've ever done."
"You're a very sinister person," I told her.
"I know. I love you, too."
She left me to go back to my homework, as if I could concentrate on that anymore. Instead I immediately started looking up vegetarian recipes. If I'm really going to do this, I don't want to embarrass myself.
Am I really going to do this?
47
Day 71, Thursday, October 30
My audition at the Karmic Cafe.
It's absolutely amazing what Amanda can accomplish in just three short days.
When I walked into the Karmic Cafe tonight, it was like I'd never seen the place before. There were actual living plants in there, and clean tablecloths, and enough new lighting that everyone didn't look like they had hepatitis anymore.
And just like in the days of our own cafe, Amanda had decorated the walls with pictures and signs and handmade artwork.
And there was music.
"What do you think?" Amanda asked. As if my dropped jaw wasn't answer enough.
"Un. Believable."
Amanda grinned. "You think?"
"This is ... gorgeous."
Amanda squeezed my arm. "Thank you!"
She took me on a tour. "I made all the tablecloths out of sheets I found on sale--I was up cutting and hemming until about midnight last night. I went through Darlene's house and brought in everything that I thought looked cool--like those jelly jars over there I'm using for vases."
A little of this, a little of that--that's Amanda's decorating style. Nothing ever needs to match--matching is boring. Somehow no matter how odd the combinations are, they always end up looking perfect together.
She drew my attention to the lists she'd posted on the walls.
Famous Vegetarian Poets. Famous Vegetarian Artists
. And singers, and actors, and writers, and athletes--
And
Famous Vegetarian Scientists
.
Amanda followed while I headed in that direction. "Thought you might be interested."
I stood in front of the list and read.
"No way--Albert Einstein was a vegetarian?"
"Yep. I even put his quote on the menu--I'll show it to you in a minute."
I continued scanning the list. "Leonardo da Vinci?"
"Yeah, he earned the double--he's over on the artists' wall, too."
Charles Darwin, Thomas Edison, Jane Goodall--
And then I saw the name that really made my heart flutter.
"Brian Greene? The physicist? The guy behind string theory?"
"That's the one. Didn't you tell me you have a little crush on him? I can understand why--I saw his picture and he is
cute."
It's true, I do have a crush. A
big
one. Ever since I watched Dr.
Greene's series on PBS about string theory and quantum physics and alternate universes, he's pretty much been at the top of my list of men I would love to marry one day. He's funny, brilliant, and
very
good-looking.
"I read an interview he did," Amanda told me, "and he said he's been a vegetarian since he was nine. Obviously it hasn't hurt his brainpower any."
"Uh, no."
"Hold on," Amanda said. "Let me go grab a menu."
While she was gone, I continued reading her list: Sir Isaac Newton, Pythagoras, the inventor Nikola Tesla--
"Here," Amanda said. "Take a look."
The menu was beautiful. Of course. It wasn't handmade like in our junior high days, but it definitely had Amanda's touch: bright colors, interesting graphics, fun fonts.
"Did you do this yourself?" I asked.
"Yeah, another midnight job. I kept a lot of Darlene's dishes on there, just because I didn't know what else to put, but as soon as you tell me what you'll be making, I'll whip out some new menus." Amanda pointed to one of the sections. "I thought I'd cover some of it now, though, with 'Soup of the Day,' 'Dessert of the Day'--that sort of thing."
I glanced up from the menu. "Amanda, this is all absolutely amazing. You're just so ... talented."
She bounced onto the tips of her toes. "Thank you!" Then she flipped the menu over and pointed to the bottom of the page. "Now check it out. There's your boy."
"Nothing will benefit human health and increase chances of survival for life on earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet."--Albert Einstein
.
Amanda elbowed me in the ribs. "Pretty good, huh?"
"Seriously?" I asked. "I've never heard about Einstein being vegetarian before." Of course, until I met Mr. Fizer, Albert Einstein wasn't exactly a big part of my life. These past few months I feel like he's always in my head.
"Come on," Amanda said. "Let me introduce you to Dave."
Dave is the part-time cook Amanda talked Darlene into hiring. She freaked out about the money, of course, but Amanda convinced her it was a temporary investment in what will turn out to be a long-term solution. "That way," Amanda told Darlene, "you can be out in front greeting the customers and making them feel welcome. You can handle more of the business side."
A very diplomatic way of not saying, "Your cooking is killing your crowd."
Amanda was obviously right about Darlene basically letting her take over. Right now Darlene was out on some errands Amanda had suggested, picking up a few more items to decorate the place for Halloween tomorrow.
"Dave, this is Cat."
"All right--the famous Cat." Dave smiled and shook my hand. "I hear you've come to save the day."
"Oh. I don't know about that--"
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Don't bother acting modest--there's no time. I'm going to leave you guys here. I have to get back to work. Dave, please do whatever she says."
"No, really," I said as soon as she was gone. "I'm just learning."
"Don't worry about it," Dave said. "I'm just going to be here a few hours a week. I don't want to be in charge. I've got enough stress with school."
He's a junior in environmental engineering at the university. He said he and his girlfriend come to the cafe for lunch a few times a week, and when he saw the Help Wanted sign yesterday he decided to apply.
Dave looked around to make sure we were still alone. "I couldn't do any worse than the food already is, right?" I nodded.
He said he learned to cook vegetarian from his girlfriend. "She told me she wouldn't go out with me unless I gave up meat."
"Wow," I said. "Harsh."
"But worth it," he said. "You should see her. And you?"
"What," I said, "vegetarian? No."
"That's okay--as long as you can cook it."
"I think I can," I said.