004 | gustatory memory
chapter four:
gustatory memory
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
Yet another day of sunshine has blessed the Good Place, splashing onto the cobbled streets of their neighbourhood. Beth might be speaking too soon if she said she was settled in now. But she is certainly coming to terms with her new existence more and more with each passing day. There is something comforting to walk out of your door in the morning, and know that someone will give you a cheerful smile.
So, when Michael stops her on the street for a quick chat, she thinks she has the right answer up her sleeve.
"Beth! Good to see you," he greets her. "How have you been settling in?"
"Slowly but surely, I think. Certainly don't have any complaints," Beth chuckles.
Michael clasps his hands together in delight. "Oh, that's wonderful news! But remember, if you do have complaints, please bring them to me... even if they'll crush my self-esteem and make me question every decision I ever made..." The silver-haired man then trails off, a vacant look behind his spectacles. Beth frowns, quite sure that now she'll ensure she never makes a complaint to Michael, if it means it will hurt him that much.
"Anyway," he shakes his head suddenly, "have you heard about tonight? A new restaurant is opening in town, and everyone is invited to its grand debut."
"I will, that sounds great."
"Tahani agreed to organise the festivities, since she's like our resident event-planner—"
"Hello, you called?" Tahani suddenly pops up by Michael's side, laughing graciously. Even though she has just been on her hands and knees pruning flowers, there isn't a speck of dirt on her nor a silky hair out of place... how?
"Michael was just telling me you're organising the restaurant opening tonight," Beth says politely.
"Ah, yes! Just a little favour on my part. I'm thinking classy and intimate, like when I took Drew Barrymore out for her birthday to a cocktail and mixology experience — not to actually take part in, of course, we just drank the cocktails."
Flummoxed, Beth laughs uncertainly. "Sounds like a party I won't want to miss."
"Do make sure you bring Sanjay along," Tahani urges her. "He's such a good sport, and I am sure he could be a good critic for the menus as well."
"That's a fantastic idea, Tahani. And speaking of great ideas..." Michael snaps his fingers, then lifts up the flaps of his open jacket indicatively. "I'm thinking of wearing my suspenders tonight."
"Your what?" Beth splutters, eyes widened. Tahani also seems equally puzzled.
"Yeah, suspenders. It's one of those human garments I just love," Michael says breathlessly. "I'm excited. And a little nervous. I'd say that I'm cautiously optimistic. I hope I don't chicken out at the last second..."
Tahani blinks at him cluelessly for a moment, wondering how on Earth he will pull off stockings and suspenders like that. Then it hits her. "Oh, you mean suspenders! As in..." To demonstrate, Tahani pretends to hook her thumbs under invisible suspender straps over her shoulders — or braces, as she and Beth now realise in their own British English — and Michael lets out a wheezing guffaw of joy.
"You can do that with them too?" Michael chortles, pleasantly surprised. "Oh, boy!"
Taking the message loud and clear, Beth arrives home and tells Sanjay about the opening of the new restaurant in the neighbourhood. That evening, they dress themselves up — she in a dark green cocktail dress, and him in a smart suit and tie — prepared for the formal event. She finds it strange how they are quietly getting used to each other. They get dressed in their own routine without much interruption or intervention. It has only been a matter of days, but Beth feels like she is treating this as if he were her long-term partner... which she realises, Sanjay kind of is.
They walk side-by-side into the gleaming new restaurant, cleverly named The Good Plates. (Anything that isn't a frozen yoghurt shop is a win, in Beth's eyes). Each candlelit table is decorated with polished plates, gleaming sets of cutlery and tall menu cards stood at each place.
"You two made it! How wonderful," Tahani walks over, clasping Sanjay's hand in particular; Beth feels an unwarranted spark of protectiveness shoot through her. "Let me guide you to your seats. You'll be here for the night, along with Antonio and Gunnar."
Gunnar, who Beth has had a number of run-ins with now, greets them cheerfully. "Hey guys! Glad to be sharing a table with you. Take a seat."
"Couldn't have picked a better table," Antonio adds happily. "But, of course, every table here is full of incredible people."
Beth and Sanjay chuckle in faint agreement as they seat themselves next to each other at the table. She grabs her napkin and unfolds it, smoothing it out on her lap; in her periphery, she cannot help but notice him studying her moves, and then copying the same gesture. When she looks up again, Sanjay catches her eye and smiles warmly.
"So," he says, "what do you reckon's on the menu tonight?"
"Hopefully something filling," Beth replies, "I'm starving..."
She turns around, trying to see who else she recognises dining with them. The chair closest to hers is Chidi's, his back currently to hers. He happens to turn around at the same time Beth is staring at him and he almost jumps out of his skin.
"Beth, hi... sorry," Chidi cringes at himself.
"It's alright, I didn't mean to scare you," Beth chuckles. Then she leans over, noting the other guests at the table. "Hi Eleanor, Jianyu..."
Eleanor thins her lips into a half-hearted smile, pointing finger guns at her; it seems the most Eleanor-like response from what she knows of the woman so far. But it is Jianyu who throws her off — the Buddhist monk grins and waves rather vigorously at her. Beth is so surprised by the action that she jumps in her seat, eyes widening. Chidi clears his throat loudly, sounding keen to avert her attention away from the monk.
"How've you been settling in?" asks Chidi.
"Not too bad, thanks," Beth shrugs one shoulder. "You?"
The philosopher's eyes flicker with doubt, his voice tightening. "Uh... it's been a bumpy start, let's say."
Before Beth can ask what he means, the clinking of a fork against a champagne glass catches her attention. Tahani stands at the front of the room, elegantly dressed in black and with matching evening gloves, preparing to propose a toast. Firstly, she appears to hand over to Michael — who is indeed wearing suspenders (or braces, as Beth and Tahani would call them, rather relieved he didn't show up in a garter belt).
"Welcome, to the opening of The Good Plates..."
A beat passes. Michael suddenly starts giggling to himself, then doubling over with laughter at his own words. "I just got that. That's hilarious! Anyway, at some point or another, every resident in this neighbourhood will fulfil his or her soul's true purpose. Chef Patricia has done that tonight by opening this restaurant."
The room erupts into applause for the chef, who stands broad-shouldered and sulking in the kitchen doorway. Is she angry or just has a resting furious face?
"Now, if you'd all like to take a look at tonight's menus..."
Curious, Beth reaches for the tall menu card and opens it. Instead of a list of different dishes, it simply has one phrase emblazoned in golden, capital letters:
'YOUR FAVOURITE MEAL'
"That's right!" Tahani cheers. "With Michael's help, Chef Patricia has re-created every person's favourite meal on Earth. Such fun!"
Beth looks across to Sanjay, whose eyes have lit up in joy. She herself is racking her brain for what hers could possibly be, suddenly excited beyond belief. There are so many options — homemade bangers and mash, a pub Sunday Roast, or dare she say the perfect option... a gigantic bowl of garlic bread. Her mouth instantly waters at the thought. Waiters have arrived at each table to place down their meal in front of them, each one covered with shiny silver cloches.
The gasps of delight and giddy excitement around the room are contagious as each cloche is lifted. Beth can see a wide variety of dishes, varying from fine dining choices to the strangest snack combination; one resident goes wild over the bowl of M&Ms they have been presented with. Whilst waiting for their table's dishes to come, Beth turns in her seat to look at the table behind her.
"Chidi, what did you get?" she asks.
"My grandmother's maafe," Chidi sighs, pupils dilated just at the sight of the dish. "Fresh perch, slow-roasted in a peanut sauce..."
"Now you're just making me more hungry," Beth chuckles. Looking across the table, she can see Jianyu has been presented with a large block of tofu, while Eleanor's plate is... empty? "Eleanor, where's your meal?"
"Apparently this is the meal," she says, voice restraining some kind of negativity. "The hunger strike I went on for... something or other."
Beth draws back, slightly puzzled; not so much by the meal choice anymore, but Eleanor's reaction. If this was her favourite meal, shouldn't she be more pleased with it? But she has little time to dwell on this fact for much longer as their dishes are finally brought to their tables. Gunnar and Antonio unveil theirs, a large steak and a bowl of spaghetti bolognese respectively.
"The big reveal..." Sanjay teases, as Beth lifts her own cloche lid.
She freezes. She thinks she feels her jaw drop slightly.
It takes a few seconds for her to process the meal in front of her — it is like she has stepped into a time machine, suddenly yanked backwards into a warm, sunlit memory she had stored neatly in the back of her mind. Now that she has, Beth is lost in memory, re-tracing her steps, and all at the sight of this food.
"... Paneer korma! And it's my gluten-free, vegetarian recipe too," Sanjay is saying next to her. He glances down at her plate and raises an eyebrow curiously. "Beth, what did you get?"
Beth blinks, coming back to reality. "Uh... melons."
"I can see that—"
"Cavaillon melons. I only ever tried them once, on holiday, but... if these are the ones..."
She picks up a melon slice, one which has not been delicately wrapped in paper-thin Parma ham as an extra touch. She can smell the navel too, fresh and ready to eat. Beth holds the slice in her hands by its green skin and the bright orange insides, hesitating before she sinks her teeth in — one taste of the intense juiciness and sweetness instantly cracks a smile from her. Just like she remembers. One bite instantly takes her back to the day she tried them, on one sunny day in her summer holiday with her family. So simple, and yet a taste she associated with total happiness and contentment.
I really am in the Good Place, Beth thinks to herself, cheerfully biting another chunk out of the melon slice.
As she tucks in, Michael makes another announcement. "May I have your attention, please? Later this evening, we will be enjoying Chef Patricia's delicious dessert, a stunning three-tiered cake that took her a full week to complete..." Right on cue, the cake in question is rolled out on a small trolley, and everyone gives impressed applause.
Then the architect has a glint in his eyes. "But first," Michael adds, "I'd like to try something fun. Each one of you has a very special memory attached to the meal you're eating. Why don't we go around the room and share our stories? Who'd like to begin?"
There is a pause, as everyone looks around to see if there are any volunteers.
"Beth Ardon?"
Michael's voice stops Beth mid-bite into her melon slice; the whole room turns to stare at her, as she finds herself experiencing deja vu of being picked on to speak at school. But as Michael shoots her a million-dollar smile, how can she really refuse? Beth clears her throat and stands up, already feeling her cheeks heat up at the attention.
"Evening, everyone," Beth says courteously. "And thank you again to Chef Patricia for these meals, they are truly... brilliant."
She opens her mouth to speak again, but is cut off by everyone clapping again.
Beth clasps her hands in front of her as she glances down at her plate. "Well, these are Cavaillon melons, at the stage when they are at their freshest and most delicious to eat. I must admit, I was surprised to see them on this plate, but now I wouldn't exchange them for anything else. And Michael is right... there is a very special memory attached to this meal."
Looking at her side, she sees Sanjay staring at her expectantly, as well as the eager faces of Gunnar and Antonio.
"Right... so, I was about nine years old, and it was the summer holidays. We usually went somewhere near home, like Great Yarmouth. But sometimes we'd make a trip abroad, usually to France. That year we went to the Luberon in Provence. You see, my dad is half-French — his father moved to England before he was born, and for as long as I can remember, Dad was really eager to explore more of France and where he came from. He just... lit up during those holidays."
Beth lets out a nervous chuckle and tucks her hair behind her ears.
"Get to the point, Beth," she murmurs under her breath, and there are some good-natured laughs around the room. "Okay, so, the melons. One day, we went to this French farmer's market..."
✮
JULY 31st, 1996
Beth is nine years old
When her parents told her they were going to a farmer's market this morning, Beth didn't know what to expect — but it certainly wasn't this. The air is laced with the aromas of fresh food everywhere, from baguettes and loaves to fruits like cherries, strawberries, melons and countless more. The street has become packed with different stalls, floods of locals and clusters of tourists. She had no idea food shopping could be so interesting. She thought that was just something that happened once you became a boring adult (and God forbid she became one of them...).
And there is more than just food here. Beth gazes curiously at a stall boasting bright bouquets of giant sunflowers, bursting in bright and happy colours. The woman behind the stall happens to catch her stare as she walks past, mid-transaction with a customer but nods at her with a friendly twinkle in her eye.
Beth grins and holds tighter onto her mum's hand, her arms still radiating with the smell of sunscreen recently massaged into her skin. Henry is up ahead with their dad, the twelve year-old's hand viewing the world through his camcorder as he pans it across the different stalls of fresh produce. As they stop at a melon stall, Beth tugs lightly on her mum's hand.
"Mummy," she says, "can we buy some sunflowers?"
"I don't know, darling, they might wilt before we go home again... I'm sorry," her mum replies, ever pragmatic.
Beth just sighs, looking longingly at the sunflowers. Oh well, she thinks, at least they look pretty. Her neck still cranes around focused on them as she is led away from the bright bouquets. They stroll over to the melon stall, which carries a mouth-watering smell she never knew fruit could have, as her dad is speaking in French to the elderly man selling them. She only recognises the odd word that she has learned briefly at school or from her father's insistence, but still follows the conversation intently.
"Henry, Beth, look at this — put the camera down for a minute, Henry..." Their father gathers his two children around, sharing what he has just learned. "These are Cavaillon melons. They're special to the area we're in. Now, according to this man, these are perfect to eat. I reckon we should buy some to eat."
"But how do you know?" Henry asks, squinting at his dad and the sun behind him.
The melon vendor takes over, switching to English. He selects a particular melon and points to the top. "Smell the navel, right here."
Beth and Henry take it in turns, leaning in and sniffing it. "It's very melon-y," Henry remarks in surprise.
"Oui, very melon-y," the vendor chuckles. "But there is more to it. This melon is heavier than it looks, which means it is full of sugar and ready to eat. That stem at the top is also ready to come off. Trust me, this is the one you want to try, so long as you eat it today."
"We'll take it," their dad smiles, "merci."
Before Beth knows it, her dad has just bought them a fresh Cavaillon melon for them to try when they get home. After spending another half hour at the food market, they get in their rental car on their way back to their holiday let. As Henry films the view from the car window, privy to Mum's wary reminder of draining the battery, Beth gazes out of the window at the rays of sunlight bursting through the trees on their drive. She rolls down the window and pokes her head out further.
"Look! There's the big house again!" Beth suddenly exclaims.
The car slows down, alone on the road as it crawls along to get a better view. During their commutes around the local area, they keep passing a seemingly-abandoned chateau. It can be glimpsed if Beth squints through the branches and trees shielding the gate and winding path up to it; even the small bit of shuttered windows and warm stone walls she's seen has nestled its way into her heart.
As the car speeds up a bit more again, Beth asks, "Does anyone live there?"
"Surely they must do," her mum says. "It looks up-kept enough."
"But there's never anyone in there."
"You don't know that," Henry points out. "Anyway, they probably have a massive garden. You can't see most of it."
"And you can't tell who lives there from the split-second you snoop through the car window, Beth," Mum laughs.
"... Quite a pad though, isn't it?" Beth sees her dad's eyes pensive and curious in the rear-view mirror.
Her mum rolls her eyes with a scoff. "Oh God, Tim, don't get any ideas now..."
They soon arrive back home at the holiday let, a cosy cottage overlooking the Provence countryside. Beth likes to imagine it's a smaller version of the chateau they keep passing. She has already pretended she owns this place, larger than life in her head as she lounges on the front terrace, playing make-believe as a wealthy expat retiring to Europe with her imaginary future husband and kids. And there has to be a cute dog, of course.
As their parents cut up the melons from the food market, Beth and Henry sit out on the iron garden chairs on the terrace. She wanted to sit outside and enjoy the view, but accepted that she should at least sit in the shade (her mother being "mumsy" in her eyes as she worries over her daughter's asthma flaring up). Beth is hunched over the postcards she bought in town, squeezing in lengthy messages and plenty of kisses at the end to her grandparents and friends back home.
Meanwhile, Henry is filming once again — what is he even going to do with all that footage? — as he pans slowly around, settling on the open door into the kitchen and dining room. He settles the shot on that view into the room, his parents actually laughing and talking together without any tension for once. The boy lingers wistfully on it until something else grabs his attention.
"Can you please stop humming that song?"
Beth looks up, a blank expression on her face. "Am I doing it again?"
"Yes. Since Saturday. It's driving me mad."
As Henry sinks down into the chair opposite her, Beth grins to herself. The song in question is 'Mysterious Girl' by Peter André, which she heard once on the radio on the way to the airport and has been unable to stop humming since. Last night she found herself whispering the words as she switched off the light at bedtime, only to find Henry flinging his pillow at her from the other single bed. She didn't mind, not really. Because she knew he was smiling too.
Beth finishes another postcard to a grandparent, signing it from herself and Henry, as well as her parent's first names — Tim and Penny — feeling rather grown-up as she does.
That is when their parents emerge from the kitchen, handing them each a plate with a slice of melon. The bright orange insides immediately catch Beth's interest. She and Henry sink their teeth into their first bite — at the same time, they experience the burst of flavour in all its juicy sweetness, and their eyes widen in awe. Her mother sits next to her brother, and her father next to Beth, the secure warmth of her parents sandwiching them together. She suddenly has a realisation:
Everything feels fine.
She would be lying if she said there wasn't some tension between her parents as of late. Any little thing managed to turn into an argument, and Beth had started hearing discussions from family members about how long things would last. The very notion had struck panic into the girl's heart. They couldn't split up. They were a family. Besides, Beth is sure there are plenty stories of people who worked it out in the end. It is just a bump in the road.
But during this trip, dare she say it, she thinks this is the happiest she's seen Mum and Dad in a while. Maybe even in years.
In this harmony as a family, with one of the most simple yet divine foods she's ever tasted, Beth wishes she could stay in this place — this moment — forever...
✮
There is a silence as Beth stops talking. One in which she realises, pretty soon, she should wrap things up. She had only been telling everyone in the restaurant the pure facts behind the story of the Cavaillon melons. Meanwhile in her head, she had re-lived every emotional nuance and every little detail stored in her memory... and it left her with a bittersweet feeling.
Because what that little girl didn't know was that moment was about as happy as things got, the four of them.
The epiphany makes Beth's heart sink. Then she looks around — people are staring at her, including Sanjay, Chidi and Eleanor, but they are the only ones whose stares do not feel like they are putting her on the spot. To everyone in this room, they only heard a sweet story about a summer holiday and some melons.
"Anyway," Beth clears her throat, "some twenty-ish years later, albeit in death, Chef Patricia pulled these straight from my memory and here we are!"
The room applauds her as she sits back down. Not the most optimistic note to end on, she thinks, reaching for a glass of wine and gulping a large mouthful. Thankfully, Michael has moved on to the next story, as a resident named Glenn gives a speech about his bowl of chicken soup. All the while, Beth's mind has drifted away whilst everyone else is distracted to that summer of '96. The gift (or burden) of hindsight plants a terrible thought in her head:
Was she imagining how happy things were?
Because how could things have taken such a turn afterwards? If anything, the arguing got worse after they returned home. Then it was a steady tumble through to deliberating over splitting, trial separations, and then divorce as the final nail in the coffin. Things seemed a lot more glossy and silver-lined in her memory...
Beth frowns down at her plate of half-eaten melons. Suddenly, she isn't that hungry anymore.
"... Anyway, that's how this simple soup saved ten thousand lives," Glenn concludes, to a room full of applause.
As Sanjay claps, he turns to Beth. "I hope Michael doesn't ask me, I haven't got an interesting story behind my paneer korma..." Then he pauses, seeming to notice how quiet and withdrawn she has become. "Hey, is everything okay?"
Beth looks up and nods weakly. "Yep. All good."
She tries to focus her attention instead on Michael's next candidate. "Jianyu Li, a Taiwanese monk who took a vow of silence at the age of eight and hasn't spoken since, is ready to share with us..."
The whole room turns to Jianyu where he is sat. Beth notices straightaway that Eleanor and Chidi have disappeared. But where to? Rising to stand in his robes, Jianyu takes a deep breath to consider his first words. An air of anticipation grows across the room, wondering what great tale the monk is about to break his vow of silence for to share with them.
"Let me tell you..." says Jianyu, "... about Stupid Nick!"
Beth blinks in a daze.
Okay... not quite was she was expecting. At all. But she cautiously decides to go with it, even though something about Jianyu's composure as he speaks does not fit her image of him in the slightest.
Then, creeping up on her, Beth becomes aware of a faint fumbling beneath her feet. Her cutlery trembles on the table and the framed photos shake on the walls. Suddenly there is an almighty CRRRACK! — a giant zig-zag draws its way through the carpeted ground, narrowly missing hers and Sanjay's seats, and it expands to a giant circumference before collapsing through. What is left is a gaping crevice, burning with heat and magma at the very bottom.
"Sinkhole! Everybody out!" Michael cries in horror.
Everyone starts running around in confused and frightened screams. Before Beth can process a thing, she feels Sanjay grabbing her hand and yanking her away from the sinkhole's edge. It is a good thing too, because amidst the confusion, Glenn trips and falls straight into the sinkhole. Her heart lurches for a moment — surely he cannot perish twice in his new existence? — only to see he is clinging onto the edge with his legs dangling further into the abyss.
"Glenn, stay calm! We're gonna get you out of there," Michael can be heard pledging. "And we'll put your soup in the fridge so it doesn't go to waste. I know that may not be your number one concern right now, but—"
"It was up there," Glenn's voice answers back, surprisingly calm, "it's real good soup!"
Sanjay leads Beth out of the crumbling restaurant, stopping in the cobbled streets to catch their breath. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asks her.
"No, I– I'm fine..." she stammers.
Breathlessly, he surveys The Good Plates as people continue to pour out of the restaurant. All the while, Beth finds herself thinking less about the immediate danger of the sinkhole, and more about how strange it is.
"How did a sinkhole open up in the Good Place?" Beth thinks aloud.
"I don't know, but—"
"For this being literal Heaven, it really seems like a hellhole. I mean... think about what we've been through already."
Sanjay glares at her, breath quietening. There is a strange look in his eyes as he pulls back slightly. Almost a slight fear and betrayal. "Beth... what are you saying exactly?" he asks, slowly and cautiously.
Beth stares back for a few moments, breathless herself. Then she shakes her head. "I don't know. I don't forking know. I just... can we go home?"
"... Of course," he nods.
And so she tries to think about his arm wrapped around her as they slowly walk back home, feeling the warmth radiating from his torso. Instead of mulling over the doubts starting to simmer in her mind the more she re-plays events. Then when they finally reach home, Beth climbs tiredly up the ladder and collapses into her bed without bothering to change into her pyjamas. For the briefest of moments she remembers they were blue-and-yellow for a while. That, along with the trash storm, the sinkhole... her induction into Heaven hasn't exactly been smooth.
Well, Beth concludes as she dozes off, no one said getting into the Good Place was easy.
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
A/N:
beth having a ratatouille moment with the cavaillon melons:
anyway, i really enjoyed writing this chapter, and i hope you enjoyed reading it too! not only did i love writing the restaurant scenes (which made me VERY hungry), but it also gave me a chance to experiment with the flashback format, which i'm going try and use throughout this book at necessary moments since eleanor, chidi, etc. all have flashbacks to their lives on earth at some point. there were some important details in that flashback that will come into play later in the book, so hold that thought 👀
what would your favourite meal be if it was served to you at the good plates?
( PUBLISHED: 8th July, 2024 )
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top