Page 13 of Grumpy Alien Lumberjack
“Okay, lumberjack,” she said, picking up the heavy gourd. “Let’s build a pie.”
“What do we do first?”
“Cut this open, scoop out the guts and bake the insides until it’s soft.”
Methic took it from her and placed it on a thick wooden block before picking up his axe and shifting it in his hands like he was going to take a swing at the vegetable.
“Do you have a regular knife?”
“Why? This will do.”
“You’re going to cut open a, whatever this is, with an axe?”
He nodded.
Moving back in submission, she braced herself as he made a light swing and cut the gourd in half. Little pieces splattered all over the table.
They both peered inside. The flesh wasn't orange, but a pale, stringy green, and it smelled faintly of damp earth.
“Well,” Jeneva said, trying to sound optimistic. “It’s… interesting.”
Methic just grunted.
She scooped some of the guts, quickly realizing that the entire inside was just stringy guts. There wasn’t any flesh on the inside to bake into a soft puree. Holding back a grimace, she finished cleaning out the insides as Methic dumped a coarsely ground type of flour into a bowl. He mixed it with water, kneading it with his huge hands until it formed a dense, clay-like dough.There was no rolling pin, so he simply flattened the dough with his palm until it was a rough circle and pressed it into a shallow metal dish.
Next came the spices. Jeneva crumbled the dried, twig-like substance from his pouch into the pale green gourd-guts. The peppery-licorice smell intensified. Her stomach flipped. This was going to be disgusting but she couldn’t be happier.
“Now what?” Hands on his hips, Methic stood back and inspected his work.
“Now we blend it all together. We’re missing milk and an egg. That’s what makes the pie filling more like custard.”
“Hmmm. I do not have those things.”
“It’ll be fine without them.” She hoped.
He began mashing the guts with his normal heavy hand. The filling splattered onto his cheek. She reached up without thinking and wiped it away with her thumb. He froze, his eyes locking on hers. The laughter died, replaced by the crackling tension from before. He leaned in, and for a heart-stopping second, she thought he would kiss her again.
Instead, he turned back to the bowl and continued stirring. No matter how much he stirred, the filling wouldn’t thicken. The strings rose to the surface like a net and tangled around the spoon while it remained liquid underneath.
“I don’t think it’s going to get any better. Pour it into the crust.”
The strings fell into the pie shell with a sickening, wet thunk.
He placed the pie in the lit stone hearth and then returned to the table to clean up the dirty dishes. Jeneva moved to get up and help, but he speared her with a look. “I will get it.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“Inside the bag is bread from the human colony and something called jam.”
Her face lit up. “Really?”
Digging in the bag, she found a boule of bread with a golden brown crust and fresh, comforting aroma. Hugging it happily to her chest, she rummaged around until she found a small jar of red colored jam. A few minutes later, she was eating bread and jam with a cup of steaming almost-coffee.
The smell that soon filled the cabin didn’t contribute to the moment. It wasn’t the scent of warm, welcoming pumpkin pie. It was a pungent, putrid aroma that made her nose twitch.
When Methic finally pulled the pie from the hearth with two thick pieces of leather, it looked even worse than she had imagined. The crust was the color of slate and hard as a rock. The filling had turned a murky shade of brownish-green and bubbled ominously.
He set the disaster on the table between them and handed her a spoon.
