Until Next Time

The room was white, empty, featureless, minus the five doors that encircled her. Stark. Stark was a good word. She’d use it more if she had more occasion for it, but she didn’t really. Not until now.

Kay drew her arms around herself fighting the shiver that ran through her spine. What was this place? Why was she here?

As though to answer her question, one of the doors opened to her right. A woman stood in its frame, her skin milky white and smooth, her lips a pink stain on an unblemished face. She was dressed in a white, seamless dress that reminded Kay of that high fashion magazine she’d once seen laying on the counter.

“Ah,” the woman said, surprise rising to her face, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet you.”

Kay didn’t know what to say to that. She was wholly at a loss as to who this woman was, but that feeling didn’t seem to be mutual.

The woman offered out her hand.

“Galatea. Nice to meet you. You’re--”

“They call me Kay,” Kay interrupted.

“Ah,” the woman said again, “I’m sure they do. This is your first time here then?”

Kay nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

“No need to worry,” Galatea said with a cat-like smile that did everything but ease Kay's worry.

Suddenly another door opened, but this time, a man entered. His appearance couldn’t have been more different from the elegant woman beside him. He was round at the waist, his skin tanned and hardened. He looked at both women and his eyes lit up.

“She’s here?”

“Andy, please don’t make her more nervous than she already is.”

Andy ignored Galatea and rushed toward Kay excitedly. He seemed to be sweating a little and his smile was so wide it looked like he might crack.

“Hello,” she uttered nervously.

“Oh, hello!” he said giggling, “she’s more beautiful than I expected, and she smells so good,” Andy stepped intrusively close and took a deep breath of her dark hair.

“Excuse me!” Kay shouted, more terrified than outraged.

“Andy, back off,” Galatea said, smile gone, eyebrow raised.

Andy looked between both of them and burst out laughing. His cackle was unsettling.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, “we’ve just never had the chance…I mean to say…this will be the best one yet!”

“The best what?” Kay asked.

“She doesn’t know?” Andy asked Galatea, giggling again.

“Andaka, please, your laugh is unnatural. No one finds this amusing but you.”

Andy paused for a moment and then burst out laughing in a kind of excited hysterics.

“I’ll do my best, but, you know me!”

“Indeed,” Galatea said, “ah! At last! Flourens, it’s about time we had some substance here.”

Another door had opened and a tall, broad man entered the room. He was dressed similar to Galatea--cream trousers, white shirt--but he seemed to carry the style better, if possible. He had a classically handsome face, sporting a thin French-style moustache. But behind it all was a haughtiness Kay found immediately intimidating. Repellent even.

Stark. Repellent. Kay found it a funny time for all these rich words to be surfacing.

“Allo,” he said looking around and spotting Kay immediately. His eyes fixed on hers and he seemed stunned. “She is ‘ere?” he said breathlessly, in his thick accent, “I never thought it possible!”

He strode forward purposefully and offered out his hand. He stood close, almost touching, and stared at her with his dark eyes. Shaking slightly, she quietly lifted her hand and took his. Immediately he rose it to his lips and kissed the back of it, lingering ever so slightly with a look both possessive and suspicious.

“But why now?” he turned asking Galatea.

Galatea merely shrugged, viewing the two of them with narrowed lids.

“Did they say anything to you? Did you overhear anything, see anything?” he persisted.

Kay thought over her last week. She didn’t often see much. She had a singular view and didn’t get to roam about hardly at all. Some people wound up all over the place, seeing many rooms. Not her. So, it had been a surprise to her when she was summoned suddenly.

She politely detached herself from the Frenchmen--Flourens?--and walked to one of the other unopened doors. She hoped that whoever was behind this one was a bigger help than the others had been so far.

Kay should’ve been expecting it, but she was quite surprised when the door opened in front of her. A small woman, wilting in nature and jaundiced in skin appeared before her. She was wringing her hands and looked a bit weepy.

“Oh, Gherta,” Flourens said, dismissively, “good to see you holding yourself together as always.”

His manner was sarcastic and slightly disgusted, and it caused the woman’s face to twist even further in anguish.

“Are you all right?” Kay asked as the woman named Gherta melted to tears in Kay's arms. Kay looked to Galatea, alarmed, but found no help in her amused and supercilious expression.

Supercilious. That surely had to have been on the word-a-day calendar, but she didn’t remember it recently.

Stop thinking about words! she cursed herself. But it wasn’t her fault, it must have been a coping mechanism, her brain routing back to the things she normally thought about, to avoid this strange new reality.

Finally, the last door opened, and the final member of their party entered. Or so Kay assumed, how could she know? It was another woman with large platinum curls, and a flouncy white dress, all smiles and bounce and lightness. She entered the room and twirled around its circumference as though it were made for her doing so.

“Good morning everyone!” she called in the sweetest of sopranos, “I just love today don’t you? Sorry I’m late!”

“Late? You practically missed your call,” Galatea said, her eyebrow raised again in disapproval.

“Ah, but I’m here now,” her twirling stopped and she noticed Kay for the first time. A sudden dark cloud passed in front of her eyes, and she jabbed a finger out her direction.

“What is she doing here?” she asked, her lip jutting in a pout.

“Afraid of being shown up, darling?” Flourens asked, his lips pursing in a delighted way.

“Shut up, Ren,” she answered, her bottom lip quivering now.

“Don’t tease the girl!” Gherta said tearfully, running to comfort the pink formation. But the girl shirked her off as though she were an annoying fly.

“I’m fine!” she said, looking around and taking a deep breath. Then she walked calmly to Kay, and offered a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Myra.”

“Hi Myra. I’m--”

“Yes, we know who you are. Up till now we’ve been lucky never to have met. I suspect everything will change now.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Galatea said, “we all have a part to play. She’s not replacing anyone…just adding…”

“We’ll probably be called on more now!” Andy said, his tan face cracking wide into another smile. He put his hands together in childish delight, waiting for others to agree.

“Maybe,” Flourens said looking around supremely, “truth of the matter is, we don’t know why she’s here. It could be a onetime thing.”

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on!” Kay screamed into the circular white room. She couldn’t handle the enigmatic sayings, the strange glances, the disturbing attention, “What are we doing here?!”

There was silence for a moment, all eyes on her, until finally, Galatea spoke.

“Why, we’re making a cake of course.”

“The best cake, a chocolate cake, thanks to you,” Andy said, his eyes and smile wide.

“That’s to be determined,” Flourens said turning and walking away.

“What’s to be determined? Do we doubt her quality? Ability?” Myra said, scrunching her nose up slightly.

“But…I’ve never made a cake…I wouldn’t even know what to do. I spend my time reading word-a-day calendars and--and--looking out the window, I don’t know the first thing--”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gherta interrupted tearfully.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and turned to Gherta.

“Obviously, it isn’t, Gherta,” Galatea responded.

“She’s back,” Gherta said, wringing her hands and wiping her eyes.

“No,” Flourens said abruptly as though the very thought was outlandish.

“It can’t be!” Myra squeaked, though she seemed hopeful.

“Don’t get your hopes up, dear girl,” Galatea said coldly, “she hasn’t spoken to us in years. Why would that change.”

“I overheard it!” Gherta insisted, “He’s having her round today. For tea.”

A kind of light seemed to show up in Flourens’s eyes, indeed in all their eyes; a new kind of elation rising within their collective breast.

But before Kay could demand more clarification, the ceiling opened up and a wooden ladder emerged. As though called by name, both Gherta and Myra ran to the ladder and ascended immediately. Andy was soon after them, giggling the whole way up. Flourens and Galatea hung back for a moment, watching her carefully.

“Well, then we’ve no time to lose.” Galatea crossed to Kay and grabbed her arms, her eyes ablaze with excitement. “There is a lot riding on this, if you do your job well, we can make a lot more than cake!”

“What? But how?”

“Be yourself,” Flourens said, disappearing up the ladder, “do not hold back.”

“But I can’t…I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Galatea said, making her way to the ladder herself, “it was what you were born for. See you soon…Koko.”

Koko. She hadn’t heard that name in ages. She looked to the ladder and took a deep breath. Then she climbed out into a bright, white light.

#

The man’s creased hands fixed the kettle and placemats on the table, picking up the empty plates scraped clean of chocolate crumbs and frosting.

“Are you sure I can’t help you clean up,” she said, looking over his shoulder to the mess he’d left in the kitchen.

“Nonsense,” he said, shrugging shyly. He wasn’t a man of many words. Which is perhaps why it had taken her so long to come back. He wasn’t often able to express how he felt, so how could he tell her now, the depth of regret he felt over their last words. There was only one way he knew how to communicate, and it lay strewn about the kitchen and, very minutely, on the corner of her mouth.

He reached over and brushed the crumb from her lip hesitantly, remembering how often he’d had to do that when she was a child. She’d aged, but in her eyes he still saw the baby who’d stared up at him for hours. Her hair hadn’t changed--it was still the lion’s mane it had always been, threatening to tickle his nostril as he hugged her goodbye.

“We should…do this again soon…” she said awkwardly as she began to move to the front door.

He nodded, unable to express how deeply he’d like that. She paused and looked him over. Perhaps she’d wanted him to say more. He certainly did, but his tongue felt tied.

“Goodbye, Koko,” he said, managing a smile.

“Bye, dad,” she said. She opened the door to leave, but then turned back one more second, “oh, and thanks for making my favorite.”

His heart nearly burst at her fond smile, and his hand shook as he closed the door behind her. In the silence of his house, he walked back to the kitchen, tidying it quietly. Gherta, Galatea, Andy in the fridge, Flourens and Myra above the stove. The small stash of Koko in a glass jar went up high overlooking the messy counter. He looked them over fondly.

“Well done friends. Until next time.”