Cooking

   Note from Owen Tucker:  Hey.  Remember what I said here last time?  If you don’t, go back and look and you’ll see that it applies here as well.

   A thought occurred to me.  I froze.
   “Wait just a second!” I yelled.  I turned back to the sweet old lady. “Would you like my phone number in case you have any trouble?”
   She looked a bit startled, standing over the kids like that with her salt and pepper shakers.
   “No,” she shook head, knocking her pointy hat askew. “Thank you very much though.”
   I smiled. “Not a problem, ma’am.  Just trying to make sure to cover every contingency.”
   She nodded with a little smile.  I nodded back before turning and continuing on my way.  I stopped dead a second later.
   “Hold on now!”  I spun around.  “Are you sure you don’t want my number?  Because if you ever want someone to babysit the little buggers, I’d be happy to oblige.  They’ve kinda grown on me y’know.”
   She had this big pot out now, probably making sure the kids weren’t hungry, which she was stirring slowly.
   “No no,” she shook her head again, but her hat didn’t go askew this time because she didn’t have it on anymore. “I’m fine, young man.  Go on, now.  I’m sure your mother is waiting for you.”
   I nodded.  What a sweet, thoughtful old lady.  I was sure now that she’d make a wonderful grandmother for the children. 
   I turned away yet again, only to remember something else very important.  When I turned back this time, she had the kids in the big pot!  That thing I had remembered popped right out of my head, replaced with the one and only thing I could say under the circumstances.
   “Low and slow with lots of salt and possibly just a dash of chili pepper.” I smiled. “That’s how my mom always does it.”
   She was looking at me with the strangest expression.  Probably realizing that I had just saved her cooking.  Being the wonderful lady she was though, she still managed a slight smile.
   “Yes yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll do that.”
   She reached into somewhere, pulled out a pinch of chili pepper, and tossed it in.
   I nodded. “Perfect.  You have fun now.  Don’t let the kids eat too much of that candy and stay up too late.”
   “Oh yes,” she returned the nod. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”
   I continued nodding with a vacate smile on my face.  I had a feeling I had forgotten something, I just couldn’t remember what.  I looked at the house, the little old lady, the kids in the pot—OH!
   “Watch out!” I screamed. “Your water is about to boil over!”
   “Oh dear.”  She took out the spoon she had been stirring the pot with and tapped it against the side. “Thank you, dearie.”
   Instead of stopping the boiling, though, that just seemed to flair it up and the water started going over the sides.  I rushed over to help, accidentally knocking against the pot in the process.  Some of the water splashed out, getting all over the lady. 
   As soon as it hit her, she threw up her hands and started screaming and running around in circles.
   I gasped. “Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry!”
   “AAAAHHHHH!” was all she said back.
   I tried to help her, but she wouldn’t stop running.  And that running was definitely not was she needed, because she kept getting smaller, and smaller, and smaller, and smaller.  Until poof!  She was completely gone.  The house was gone too, along with the big pot.  It was just me and the kids all alone in the forest again.
   I wiped a tear out of the corner of my eye.  The world was now short one wonderful grandmother.  I could only hope that I would be able to find these kids someone else half as good as her.

   To be continued…