"Behind the salt."
"What did you find there?"
"Two chocolate grahams."
Bobby held out his hand, accepted one of the crackers without thanks
and proceeded to crumble the whole thing into his concoction, not even
stopping to lick the chocolate off his hands.
Bonnie frowned in disbelief. She had never seen such self-sacrifice.
The act made her aware, for the first time, of the immense
significance of the experiment.
She dropped her quarrel completely and walked over to the sink to get
a good look at what was being done. All she saw in the sink was a
wadded, wet Corn Flake box, the empty sardine tin and spillings from
the juicer, which by this time was beginning to take on a distinctive
and unpleasant odor. Bob gave Bonnie the job of adding seven pinches of
salt and some cocoa to the concoction.
"What's it going to be, Bob?" she asked, blending the cocoa on her
hands into her yellow corduroy skirt.
"Stuff," Bob answered, unbending a little.
"Government stuff?"
"Nope."
"Spaceship stuff?"
"Nope."
"Medicine?"
"Nope."
"I give up."
"It's animal serum," Bob said, sliced his thumb on the sardine can,
glanced unemotionally at the cut, ignored it.
"What's animal serum, Bob?"
"It's certain properties without which the universe in eternity regards
for human beings."
"Oh," Bonnie said. She took off her apron and sat down at the other end
of the kitchen. The smell from the juicer was beginning to reach her
stomach.
Bobby combed the kitchen for something else to throw into his
concoction and came up with some oregano and liquid garlic.
"I guess this is about it," he said.
He poured the garlic and oregano into his juicer, put the lid on, shook
it furiously for a minute and then emptied the contents into a deep pot.
"What are you doing now, Bob?" Bonnie asked.
"You have to cook it for seven minutes."
* * * * *
Bobby lit the stove, put a cover on the pot, set the timer for ten
minutes and left the room. Bonnie tagged after him and the two of them
got involved in a rough game of basketball in the living room.
"BING!" said the timer.
Bob dropped the basketball on Bonnie's head and ran back into the
kitchen.
"It's all done," he said, and took the cover off the pot. Only his
dedication to his work kept him from showing the discomfort he felt
with the smell that the pot gave forth.
"Fyew!" said Bonnie. "What do we do with it now? Throw it out?"
"No, stupid. We have to stir it till it cools and then drink it."
"Drink it?" Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "How come we have to drink it?"