Cameron’s Chocolateria
The New Chef
By Kevin Six
Cameron Sweet fidgeted in his seat. It
was Friday afternoon and Miss Price was droning on about geometry. But
all Cameron could think about was his exciting after-school task.
As the namesake of the town's best candy
shop, Cameron had borrowed his Uncle Antoine's surname for business purposes –
and it didn't hurt his popularity.
"Hey Cam-uh-Mr. Sweet," said former
bully Donny Twittle, as the final bell rung, "what'cha doin' after
class?" A group of kids was descending on Cameron, as they always did at
this time, to accompany him on his weekly taste test at Cameron's Chocolateria.
"Not today, guys," announced
Cameron, "we're interviewing a new chef."
It seemed that every dessert chef in a
100-mile radius had sent samples for the Sweet family to taste. The three
finalists were to be interviewed at the shop today. Uncle Antoine was busily
arranging candies in the cases when the bell over the door rung announcing
Cameron's entrance.
"Are we ready to make our most
important decision to date?" asked Uncle Antoine.
"Yes," said Cameron as his mother
entered from the kitchen.
"I'll be happy when we get a new
chef," said Darla Sweet, "I had no idea how difficult it was to
make-"
"The world's finest
chocolate!" chimed everyone.
"That's why we're hiring a new chef,
dear sister," said Antoine. "We need you in the office managing
accounts!" Though the store was closed for the afternoon, there was quite
a crowd gathering. A change this monumental was quite exciting in this small
town.
The first two interviewees looked like
dessert chefs and seemed rather boring to Cameron's mind. The third and final
chef to be interviewed was different in many ways. Firstly, she was a woman,
second, she didn't look like a chef but more like a high-fashion model -- and
third, she was considerably more attractive than any woman Cameron had ever
seen, except his mother.
The discussion continued over dinner at home.
Ms. Kinsey had what Uncle Antoine called "an almost radical approach to chocolate
making," and Cameron's mom wondered aloud if the rest of the staff would
be distracted by her. But Cameron liked her – mainly because she treated him
like a member of the management team instead of a child, so he spoke up.
"I think she's neat. She doesn't
treat kids like they're dumb and she's nowhere near as pretty as you,
mom."
"Her chocolate sample was the
best," Said Darla. Antoine noticed a growing diplomacy in his nephew,
which would be good for business as the years progressed.
"Then it's decided," he said.
The proof of Ms. Kinsey's success was in the
pudding, and the pies and of course the truffles, which were selling better
than ever in just one week on the job. She kept her recipes secret but the list
of ingredients, which Darla had some difficulty ordering, were nothing if not
strange: paprika, raw cocoa leaves, nettle and wormwood were some of the
ingredients. And the names! Ms. Kinsey suggested the strangest names,
which, after tasting seemed to fit perfectly. Names like, Avarice, Burning
Desire, Man Back, Die For, Zowee and, Cameron's favorite, Tough Stuff.
The strange names, ingredients, and higher
prices (shipping was to blame) actually increased sales. So much so that
the Sweets and a fleet of clerks, assistants and kitchen helpers just to meet
demand.
Ms. Kinsey ran the shop like boot camp but no
one seemed to mind. She was just so nice about it. Ms. Kinsey also
had an odd habit of dabbing sweat off of the worker's foreheads. "We
wouldn't want that in the mix," she'd say after surprising someone with a
swipe of her red handkerchief.
A strange thing was happening in the
neighborhood of Cameron's Chocolateria. It could be said that there were
more dates beginning, culminating and, in some cases, taking place at the
chocolate shop than ever before. And it seemed like there were just more
people going on dates. Even Mr. Miller the butcher and Miss Groaning the
librarian were dating.
Most of the marriageable bachelors, however,
were seeking ever bolder and more ingenious ways to gain the attentions of the
new chef Ms. Kinsey. There were almost daily deliveries of flowers,
perfume and ham (it was a small farming town after all), which Ms. Kinsey
always accepted graciously. But she never seemed to do anything but, cook, eat and
read cookbooks. Her evenings were spent creating ever more ingenious and
strange creations.
It had to happen and finally it did. Mr.
Abernathy, a man with a good complexion who seemed to know how to dress himself
asked Darla on a date and, after a family conference, she accepted. It
had, after all, been three years since Mr. Smith had passed on in the war and
Mrs. Sweet was the second most eligible woman in town.
Uncle Antoine agreed to accompany Darla on
her date. "But who will watch Cameron?" asked Darla.
"I'm old enough to take care of my
self!" said Cameron, who was to turn 11 next May.
"Almost but not quite," the voice
of Ms. Kinsey startled the family conference in front of the Dine, Dance, and
Delight display.
Ms. Kinsey's comments usually startled.
It was either because she was announcing some new concoction featuring
pineapple, pepper and plumeria (a best seller), or finishing someone's thought.
"Actually I need Cameron's help on a new, top secret recipe." The
silence was thick.
Finally Uncle Antoine broke it with,
"Capital idea!"
The shift changed promptly at six on Friday.
The night crew did a huge business until midnight selling sweets with names
like Naughty Neighbor, Sneak Away For a Bite and some others that Cameron
didn't understand but that Uncle Antoine always snickered at when he set them
out. At 6:05 p.m. a nervous Mr. Abernathy came to pick up Cameron's
mother. Antoine and his date Miss Price arrived a few minutes later and
all were off for a ride to the next town.
"I think you handled Mr. Abernathy quite
properly," said Ms. Kinsey back in the kitchen. They were under
orders not to be disturbed; Cameron was the first and only person allowed to
witness what Ms. Kinsey called "the creative process." It
seemed boring and even a little painful to Cameron who'd been stirring a thick
dark melange for a long time.
"What do you mean, Ms.
Kinsey?"
"I think you let Mr. Abernathy know that
you are, or soon will be, a man to be reckoned with. You were polite but
showed him that you wouldn't stand for him mistreating your mother."
"How…how'd you know that?" Cameron
was indeed feeling exactly that same feeling when he met his mother's escort,
"and how did I show him that? I just shook his hand."
"It was the way in which you shook
it. I'm sure he got the message," said Ms. Kinsey. Cameron
wondered what he'd just heard but it made him feel pretty cool so he let it
go.
"Cameron, it's almost time for the
secret ingredient. Are you ready?" Cameron was actually a
little nervous as Ms. Kinsey took a large beaker out of the refrigerator.
He was more nervous because the beaker seemed to be smoking.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Only the most important ingredient of
the most important recipe I shall ever create." If this were a movie,
thought Cameron, I'll bet the music would be a little spooky right now.
"What's in it?" he asked when he
regained his composure.
"First, wouldn't you like to know what
I'll call it?" Cameron was getting strange feelings running up and down
his spine. "It shall be called The Opposite of Fear," announced
Ms. Kinsey.
"What is the opposite of fear?"
asked Cameron.
"Don't you want to know about the secret
ingredient?" Suddenly, Cameron's interest was on the beaker, which Ms.
Kinsey was tipping into Cameron's bowl. It turned the mostly chocolate a dark,
passionate red.
"Yes." Said Cameron.
"Recognize the color?" asked Ms.
Kinsey. It was an oddly familiar color, thought Cameron.
"Can we taste it?
"No. Not until I'm gone,"
said Ms. Kinsey.
"You're leaving?" Suddenly Cameron
didn't feel so well.
"Let me tell you about the secret
ingredient. But you must swear to tell only the love of your life this secret
I'm about to impart to you."
"How will I know-"
"That you've found the love of your
life? You will know." "Now, continued Ms. Kinsey,
"Cameron, you may have noticed that I have a silly habit of wiping the
brows of the workers-"
"The red handkerchief!" Cameron
couldn't help interrupting but it was the exact color of the concoction he'd
been stirring.
"Excellent, Cameron. The secret
ingredient comes from the handkerchief." Cameron was looking a little pale
at the thought of many months' worth of sweaty brows. "Don't worry,
Cameron, I distilled it. I believe you told me you read about the distillation
process in school." Cameron nodded and his color returned.
"Distilled sweat?"
"Not everyone's sweat, Cameron.
Sometimes people don't have fun at work."
"Like cranky Mr. Jackson and unhappy
Pearl Sweeney?"
"Exactly. I never dabbed their
brows. Only those who were happiest, those who love their
jobs."
"But what-"
"What is the distillate?" finished
Ms. Kinsey. "Love, Cameron. When you produce sweat from a labor of love,
it can be brought out, magnified and used to make-"
"A love potion?" Cameron was horror
struck.
"I will leave soon and soon after that
you will change your mind about love, Cameron. Besides, no one can make a
person love someone they don't. But one can increase the love that is
there." Cameron was even more horror struck.
Cameron's Chocolateria had a record year for
sales and the whole town seemed happier and healthier, which was something
considering the amount of sweets they were ingesting. There was a grand party
to send off Ms. Kinsey, who entrusted more than one secret recipe to Cameron
Sweet. At the party, Cameron could have sworn that Jessica Cooper was looking
at him strangely. Ms. Kinsey just smiled and winked.
The days grew into weeks and months but every
so often, someone would ask Cameron about the bright red batter in the freezer
and every time Cameron would answer, "Maybe Christmas, maybe New Year,
probably Valentines Day."
