The Recipe of Life

Smoke rose above the trees from a little cottage. The sign on the door said ‘Keep out! Life making in progress’. Storks flew there and back, at least once a week. Everyone thought the little stout woman who lived there was just a crazy woman. Inside, you probably wouldn’t think differently. The little old lady would hum and mutter to herself while she poured glowing liquids into a cauldron with an air of certainty.  She wasn't crazy, though. She worked for a secret organization that... never mind. You'll find out soon enough. Long story short, it was supposed to stay secret.

One time a man decided to see what was going on. He had gotten married a year ago. His wife was expecting soon, so her sister was visiting, and he had decided to give them some time to talk. The man was hungry for adventure and set out to interview the old lady.

Inside the house, the woman was brewing a new pot. “Hmm, who should I make this time?” she muttered to herself. The door slammed shut. “Just the wind,” she said without turning around.

The man had gotten into the house, but when the door slammed shut behind him, he thought he was done for. A little intimidated, he felt afraid to interview her. Instead, he just listened as he crouched under a desk in a cluttered corner.

“What to do, what to do,” the old lady whispered to herself. “Come on, Olga, what should I do?” 

“A girl, I think. Yes, yes. What family? Ah, I know! They’re expecting quite soon. Black hair, for sure. That’s her father’s hair color,” Olga laughed as she poured a teaspoon of brown syrup into the mixture. At least, that’s what it looked like.  “What for blue eyes, a cup of melted blue sapphire. Maybe it should be pale blue. Yes, yes. Let us add some white.”

While the witch, Olga, stirred the pot after adding a ‘gentle smile’, the man’s back was getting sore. As he moved a little to stretch, his head bumped a book that was teetering on the edge of the desk. He grabbed it before it hit the floor. It fell open to a page that looked like this:

Steps

First, you must pick a gender

Second, you must pick hair color, eye color, eye shape, and smile

Third, you start on the personality

Fourth, you add a disadvantage  

Lastly, make what will happen in the child’s life

Then you send the vial on its way

Note to self: send to a family where the child’s personality mixes well with the genes

He found the print slightly unnerving, and realized the handwriting was Olga’s. He flipped to the next page.

She finished stirring. The ingredients had merged together to make a light shade of purple. “Next I’ll add some ducky felt, and maybe a touch of oak wood. Enough with that, now. Personality, hmm. How about smart, but shy,” Olga said with an air of thoughtfulness. 

The man was flicking through pages until he found one with his name on it. Curiosity surged through him like a wave.  As he read, his eyes grew wide with shock. This was a perfect description of him. 

Name: Jacob Gratworth

Born to: Maria and John Gratworth

Birth date: April 2, 1991

Job: Banker

Gender: Male

Coal (black hair)

Green sapphire (green eyes)

Pine wood (pine wood cradle)

Bumblebee felt (blanket brought home from hospital in)

Broken twig (broken leg, age 8. Did not heal properly)

Mini China doll (little sister)

Piece of pasta (first date at an Italian restaurant)

Mini stuffed hokie (goes to college at Virginia Rech)

Small diamond (proposes to Eliana Tregibbin, age 31)

Piece of silk (married to Eliana Tregibben, age 32)

Mini baby doll (first daughter at 33)

For some reason, even though some events had happened recently, they were all faded the same amount. It almost looked like the person who wrote this, Olga, must have known what was going to happen before it happened. Jacob was a banker at Capital One, and his wife’s maiden name was Tregibben. He had green eyes and coal black hair. He went to VT.  He remembered breaking his leg at eight, it had never properly healed. His parents’ names were Maria and John. There was more writing, but for some reason he didn’t want to get a preview on his life. It was enough to generate multiple questions, but one question surfaced much more quickly than the others. What was going on here? The man, Jacob, flipped to the next page, hoping for an explanation.

“Probably should check the book for the facts. Can’t trust this old brain, ya know” Olga chuckled. She began to walk toward the desk in the corner.

Jacob was so engrossed in the book, he didn’t notice her silence or her scuffling feet until they were a few feet away. Thankfully, he was able to replace the book and scramble back to his hiding space before she could spot him. She must have really bad eyesight, Jacob thought.

Olga picked up the book and flipped to the first page. “I’ll have to retrace these steps again, "She flipped to Jacob’s page, then Eliana’s. Eliana used to be a gymnast. A quite good one, too. When she married, she gave up her course as a pro gymnast and became a lawyer. Olga rushed back to her cauldron and emptied a vial with the title 'Athletic' into the cauldron. Soon she was done and produced a small vial with lazy lavender liquid. She bundled it up in a blanket and let a stork pick it up to deliver it to the family. She retrieved the book and began to write down the girl’s recipe.

Name: Lauren

Born to: Jacob and Eliana Gratworth

Birth date: June 13, 2024

Job: College professor

Gender: female

Coal (black hair)

White and blue sapphire (pale blue eyes)

Small hollow rock (shy)

apple (smart)

White oak (first cradle)

Ducky felt (brought home in ducky blanket)

Pebble boiled for 1 minute (first step on first birthday)

Cookie crumbs (first word is cookie)

Brain squishy (diagnosed with migraines, age 7)

Glasses lens (glasses at 13)

Spring roll (first date at Chinese food restaurant)

Toy truck (learned to drive in a truck)

Piece of wood from the bars in the gymnasium (Olympian gymnast)

Miniature diamond (engaged at 28)

Silk veil (married at 30 to Bill Gediton)

Twin baby dolls (twin daughters)

Piece of gray hair (grandmother at 73)

Miniature gravestone ( died at 92)

Olga then turned back to her cauldron to work on her next ‘life’.  She returned her book to the dusty desk. Wait, were there handprints? She was pretty sure she didn’t touch the desk. Oh,well. Old woman’s memory playing tricks on her again. And she never thought about it again. She didn't seem worried that someone might have found out her secret. She didn’t seem to think that anyone would be crazy enough to enter her cottage. For such a wise little lady, you would guess that she would be a little more suspicious. Yet she never knew that a young man named Jacob Gratworth knew her secret. He also watched her make a ‘life’. Maybe that life was closer to his own then he knew.  Olga made a big mistake. Thankfully Jacob would never tell… right?

Jacob scrunched into a smaller ball underneath the desk. Handprints made of ash were stained on to his pants. There was only one logical explanation. He checked his own hands and stifled a gasp. They were covered in dust. He must have left handprints on the desk while he groped around to put the book back. He looked up as much as he dared to find Olga inspecting the handprints. He shuddered and pushed closer to the wall on the other side of the desk.

As Olga began the fire underneath her cauldron once more, he snaked his hand from underneath the desk and snatched the book. If he was going to be here all night, he may as well try to figure out what this was all about. He flipped through the pages until he found a page with new ink on it. He began to read with a curious look on his face. Soon enough, curiosity was replaced with a more guarded look as he read the names of the parents. He read it again and again until he had it memorized. By then he was bleary-eyed and checked once more on the little old witch. She was asleep, and so he replaced the book and snuck out of the cottage. As he trudged home, he decided to ask his wife what she thought about this. Eliana would have a logical explanation for this he told himself. When he got halfway home, though, a stork flew overhead, carrying an empty blanket. I must be imagining things. It was entirely possible in his awake asleep state. 

As he got home, a sound like a baby crying made his head snap up. He sprinted the rest of the way home, tiredness forgotten. As he burst into the room, Eliana spun around and held a finger to her lips. A small baby rested in a white oak cradle covered with a blanket covered in little ducks.  “We just got home today!” Eliana whispered. She was frowning. "Your daughter was born yesterday, and you weren't there!" she said. Then, "Why are you covered in dust and why weren't you here when we got home?” With a start, Jacob realized he had been gone for two days.

His wife scooped up the young girl and said “Meet Lauren. Lauren, this is your daddy.” Jacob’s eyes lit with pride as they fell across his daughter. As she put Lauren back into her cradle, she said “She was born on June 13”.

It struck Jacob all at once. White oak, ducky felt, Lauren, June 13. So, it was true. “I think I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted,” That wasn’t a lie. So he went to bed after whispering goodnight to his wife and newborn daughter. 

As he watched his daughter grow, he remembered that page in Olga’s book and wondered what life recipe she was making now. He never did tell his wife about the strange old lady that lived in the cottage, although it sprang to the tip of his tongue more than once. It seemed that he would be the last one to know about Olga and her cottage. He was a little sad to see that the secret would die with him, but he didn’t know who else to tell, or who else would believe him. 

Jacob’s second child, William, was born with the same hunger for adventure. He, too, made the journey to the cottage. But William didn’t hold his tongue as well, and when authorities arrived at the scene to investigate, the cottage was deserted. And now, because William came to the conclusion that he had imagined it, no one knew the whereabouts or even if there was an old witch named Olga who had the power to make lives with recipes like the ones you use to make your dinner.