Page 31 of Cookbooks and Demons

“Huh. Okay, well that’s an extra tagline that’s going to need some more explanation later, but right now, will you please just trust me and come with me? This is one hour of your life.”

He eyed her warily.

She leaned in even closer, careful of the words she was about to say. “I would think spending one hour in a place you’re uncomfortable in this reality would be preferable to an hour …elsewhere,” she said with a you-know-what-I-mean attitude. “It can’t be nearly as bad, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips pressing so hard they bulged. “Fine,” he bit out, confirming her argument had persuaded. He simply couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he offered her his hand, and she took it gladly, dragging him to the one place she knew he would like.

At the far end of the mall, tucked into a corner was a double-wide store. She knew the minute he saw it because he came to a dead stop, making a guy who had been going too fast behind them trip. Rafferty didn’t notice him or his curses though. His eyes were glued to the display laid out before him.

Just behind a large pane of glass, someone had created a magical kitchen. On a faux counter, next to a smaller version of a kitchen table, different appliances danced about, some of them suspended by wires to convey their merry whimsy. Utensils of every shape, size, and color had been laid out on a sweeping, curving board. Someone had drawn long staff lines on it, as if it were a sheet of music and the utensils were the notes. Decorative cupcake papers had been turned into flowers, while in a flower box on the fairytale kitchen’s fake window was a row of different flours ranging from Almond toSemolina.

Above it all read the name: “A Cook’s Wonderland” in Miss Muffet font.

“Told you you would like it,” Helena saidproudly.

“How is such a store possible?” hebreathed.

“Uh, the development of commercialism and globalization over the last few centuries,” Helena said, thinking of what could have been available to him three hundred and fifty years ago. “You think this is amazing? Wait until I take you to a grocery store.”

Mesmerized by what he was seeing, Rafferty drifted forward toward the store’s entrance. He stopped at the threshold, staring inside. “What are they doing?”he asked.

“Oh, looks like cookingclasses.”

In the back half of the store, a line of cooking stations lined the wall with an extra-long continuous white granite counter creating an alley that separated it from the rest of the place. People were gathered within this alley, talking, laughing, and cooking while a woman dressed like Rafferty only in white with a blue kerchief covering her hair, demonstrated at her elevated cooking station at thefar end.

Helena took his cold hand in her warm one. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

“No!” he said, urgently resisting. “No. I am… I amunworthy.”

She wanted to laugh like he was joking, but his face told her he was anything but so she choked it down.

“Rafferty, don’t be silly. It’s just a store. For cooking supplies. Everyone is worthy. That’s the point of a place like this. ‘Anyone can cook.’”

He winced at that, shooting her a disgusted expression. “Who the hell said that?”

“A cartoon mouse, but it doesn’t mean it’s not universally and uncopyrightably true,” Helenainsisted.

“Let’s just… just take me to that clothing shop you wished to go to, and let’s get out of here.” He continued to pull away, but Helena wasn’thaving it.

“One thing. Let’s go in and buy you one new cooking thing.”

“It’s not like I haven’t used everything that has been invented since the 1600s.”

Helena glanced into the store. “Have you ever used a rice cooker before?”

“A what? What do you mean?”

“Okay, so you don’t get summoned into Asia very often.” She tried one more time to drag him in, but still heresisted.

“Just leave it alone!” he said. Then when she looked back at him, exasperated, he added softly, “Please.I can’t.”

At that, she relented. “Alright,alright.”

They traced their way back to105th. Because it was the middle of the day, there were very few customers in the store, and those that were there were shopping through the racks on the women’s side. Instead, she led Rafferty over to the men’s side where several impossibly well-sculpted mannequins were frozen in “cool guy” poses sporting the latestfashions.

“So what do you like to wear?” Helena asked, clacking aside some hanging clothes to get a better look at the available colors of a lovely set of dress shirts.

“Short breeches and a toque,” Raffertymuttered.

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