Wilcox

      “Wilcox!”

           Andy’s name screeched through the wall intercom in the dining room, her back stiffened at the thought of yet another confrontation with Mrs. O’Connor, Montgomery’s cook and in a show of defiance, she ignored the voice as she walked silently along the hallway toward the staff entrance of the kitchen. The swing door opened as she pushed her way through backward, with a quick turn Andy took short baby-like steps toward the counter where she lowered her cumbersome load of cups and saucers that teetered on the brink of toppling off, thankful that she hadn’t lost any on this trip.

           “It’s about time you got back here. I’ve got things to do and you’re not helping, snapped the short rotund woman. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned back to the pot that was boiling on the stove and gave its contents a vigorous stir.

           “I tried to get things cleaned up quicker, Mrs. O’Connor, but Mr. Montgomery was in no hurry to finish reading his morning paper or coffee. What did you want me to do? Pull things out from underneath him?

           “You mind your tongue young lady, or it will get you into trouble, and you’ve got to be quicker, get in and clear things off. There are plenty of local girls here that would love to have your job. I honestly don’t know why they brought you in.” Clicking her tongue she tuttered, turned, and began rolling out pastry on the well-worn wooden table.

Andy bent over the garbage pail scraped then stacked the dishes for washing. Anger welled up inside her.

           “Stop doing that! The Mistress will be coming along soon, with changes to the menu, I’m sure. Go check on the dough that’s raising in the summer kitchen to make the buns that she enjoys so much.

. You do know how to do that don’t you? Make sure that cool air doesn’t hit them or it will fall. While you’re there go into the walk-in refrigerator and bring me two chickens and don’t leave the door open this time.

Andy straightened her back and gritted her teeth.

           “Yes Mrs. O’Connor. I’ll be careful.”

           As Andy left the kitchen she headed down the back hallway toward the summer kitchen where she knew Mrs. ‘O’s dough would be enjoying the heat and raising nicely. The heat of the day had swollen the door shut and as Andy leaned on it and gave it a forceful push the door flung open and her with it. Startled, she had come eye-to-eye with a blonde-haired boy, who was equally surprised as they stared at each other mouths open. Only he was slopping parts of the chocolate cake that they’d made earlier in the day.

           “What, what are you doing here, and who are you? Andy asked when she finally gathered her wits about her.

           The boy continued to stare at her. He sat frozen to the spot, he hadn’t even blinked

           “Well? What have you got to say for yourself? She demanded. “Who are you and what are you doing in here? Andy asked again as she straightened her uniform.

The boy took his time as he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. It looked dirty too, from where Andy stood.

           “Look you’d better get out of here; you’re going to get me into trouble. How can I explain this and you to Mrs. O’Connor?” Andy asked more to herself than the boy.

           As she looked around the room she took in its disheveled appearance. Chunks were missing from the pies, and blobs of the potato salad had begun to ooze over the table’s edge and landed like flattened snowballs on the wooden floorboards with bits of green paint in it. The bone-in ham that sat in the pan had bite marks in it. What kind of animal had been in here Andy wondered. Then her eyes were cast back on the boy, who was now looking a little sick.

           “You did this? You ate all this? She asked in disbelief.

           The boy was slow to respond, as he cupped his hand over his stomach.

           “I, I feel sick.” He finally garbled.

           “Stand up and get over here to the pail then. I’m not going to be cleaning up after you. Wait till Mrs. O’Connor hears about this. I’ll be blamed for sure. How did you get in here? Andy was asking more to herself than the boy. As he slowly began to get to his feet, Andy reached down to help him he turned away that’s when she saw the glint of the knife protruding from his pants pocket. She backed away. He continued to hold his stomach when she heard the rumbling noise from deep within his gut. She grabbed the closest thing it was the bowl with dough raising in it. The smell put his contents over the top and they spewed into the bowl and beyond.

           “There serves you right. You little pig.” Andy said as she thrust her chin forward. She watched him as he tried to stand, but this time didn’t offer a hand.

           “I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here, but I’m going to finish doing what I came in to do, and by the time I’ve finished, you’d better be gone.” She said as she stepped past him and pulled open the walk-in refrigerator door and went in. When she emerged with the two chickens that hung limply by their necks, she peered around the kitchen to make sure he was gone. Satisfied she shut the door, plopped the chickens in a stewing pot, and tossed the ruined dough into the slop pail. As she gathered the chickens up once again she headed back to the main kitchen where she would be confronted by Mrs. O’Connor.

           “Ah, there you are girl, bout time too. Did you get everything done that I’d asked of you? I’ve been waiting here for those chickens. What took you so long? Phew what’s that smell on you? Smells right ripe, can’t be from the dough. What did you this time girl? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

           “I had a bit of an accident Mrs. O’Connor, and I had to clean it up you see. I’m sorry but your dough isn’t raising anymore, it well it, ah, got sick on?”

           “What, what’s that mean?” Don’t tell me you ruined it, here I’ve been waitin’ all this time for you. Girl what am I going to do with you?”

           “I’m so sorry Mrs. O’Connor, what can I do to help?”

           “Help, girl you’re no help, just go over there and wait until I tell you to do something. Do you think you can do that?”

           “Oh yes Mrs. O’Connor, I’ll wait until the day’s over if that’s what you want me to do.”

           “Good, now girl get outta me way I’m expecting Mrs. Montgonery any time now.” Wringing her hands as she moved around the kitchen, wiping the already spotless wooden table, she made several quick looks over her shoulder toward the door.

           “Girl, go and get me the fixin’s to start me buns again. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you in the summer kitchen. I’m a feared of what I’m gonna see. You will have to go for the milk and eggs and make it snappy. I don’t want ya lollygagging in here after Mrs. Montgomery arrives.”

Andy scurried to the summer kitchen and raced back just in time to see Mrs. Montgomery enter from the west wing. Mrs. O’Connor bobbed and greeted her as she took the menu from Mrs. Montgomery’s outstretched hand, she gave it a quick glance, looked up and smiled and said: “Thank you, Ma’am.” As Mrs. Montgomery exited the kitchen, Mrs. O’Connor breathed a sigh of relief, as she muttered under her breath.

           “Well that went better than I expected. Now you young lady, sizing Andy up and down, we’ll have to talk about that accident.”