Again, a lot of filler. Hope you don't mind. Also, I won't be updating for the month of November. Thought I'd let you know in advance.
This was going to be difficult. Normally I had two arms and legs and three other people when I made Thanksgiving dinner. It was the eighteenth of November, and I was in my room. Alone. Everyone else was at school. My paperwork was still processing, because they had to place me. Of course, I'm fifteen, but the rich idiot known as the chairman decided that since I didn't go to school for years I should be moved down a grade. They didn't have an academic aptitude test, so they were guessing at where to put me. I was hoping for 3-A, but with those people you never know.
So back to Thanksgiving dinner. My mom always made a big deal about giving back to the community. On Thanksgiving, this meant rallying the family and cooking an outrageous number of complete Thanksgiving dinners and handing them out at various local shelters. I hadn't done it since I went into hiding, but since I now had the means to, I didn't see a reason that I shouldn't. I was basically immobile, though, so I was going to have to ask for help. Lucky for me, I had a house full of people who were supposed to do what I said.
I slowly rolled myself over to the door and the intercom. I reached up, pressed the button for the maids' chambers, and asked for someone to take me to the kitchen. A minute later, there was a knock on my door. The maid opened it and wheeled me out. Since the only elevator in the mansion was the dumbbell used to get food from the kitchen to the dining room, plywood had been laid down on half of the abnormally wide staircase. It sure was easier to go down than steps.
The kitchen was just to the left of the entrance. Inside I was greeted with the familiar sight of a Hanafuda game. Oh, how I love the Japanese working class. I just had to smile when I saw them freeze. Apparently, they weren't supposed to be playing cards when Tamaki wasn't here. They all looked worried. One word from me could result in the loss of their jobs.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked. "Deal me in."
They physically relaxed. I was wheeled over to an empty spot on the table, and they dealt me in. They were all really nice. I didn't cheat the first couple of hands, but it was killing me. I broke after three hands. I couldn't help myself. I'd never not cheated at a game of cards. Needless to say, they lost.
"So," I began. "I have a favor to ask of you."
"What is it?" Makoto asked. He seemed to be their leader. He was kind of like Boss in a lot of ways.
"Well, my family always made extravagant dinners around this time of year for the less fortunate. I haven't been able to do it for a while, and you can see what my obstacle is now. I was wondering if you would mind helping."
"We'd love to," Makoto said. "What kind of dinners are we talking about?"
"I'm so glad you asked. A full turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, yams, mashed potatoes, corn, rolls and butter, wine, pumpkin rolls, and both apple and pumpkin pies."
"I have absolutely no idea what half of that stuff is."
"Well, I have recipes upstairs. It'll take me a couple of hours to translate them, but I believe we can start tomorrow."
"We'll be waiting."
I had the maid, who had been awkwardly standing there the entire time, take me back up to my room. I needed to start translating my mom's recipes into Japanese if we were going to finish before Thanksgiving. I hated translating. It was terrible. I didn't care if I knew both languages. It was a pain. Thankfully, some guy took into consideration lazy people, like myself, and created Google Translate. How I love that program.
Anywho, I spent hours going through my shoe box full of recipes and typing them into the translator. Since I did know the language, I could spot errors, but it was mostly right. Either way, it saved me work. And I do realize this makes me sound extremely lazy, but I had a men's American size twelve shoebox filled to the brim with tiny note cards. Would you honestly want to translate over three hundred recipes from English to Japanese? Unless you're some kind of nut, except peanuts because they seem quite sane, the answer is no.
Thanks to my genius friends at Google, I was halfway done by the time the idiot came home. How do I know? He flew right into my room and proceeded to tell me every miniscule detail of his day, oblivious that I was doing something. I really needed to change those locks.
"Hey, Tamaki," I said.
"Yes?" he responded automatically.
"A smart, good-looking guy like you knows English, right?" I prayed I wasn't laying it on too thick and he wouldn't notice that the compliment was completely fake.
"Of course, my darling," he cooed.
"Good," I said, dropping the awestruck voice I'd been using. "Then translate these into Japanese."
He looked at the stained recipe cards I shoved at him like they were aliens. I then shoved a set of clean cards and a pen at him. He seemed to catch on then to what he was supposed to do. He had to ask me about a few words, but my friend Google Translate helped him out. Like I planned, we were done by midnight. As soon as we were finished, I shooed him out of my room. He had school in the morning, and I didn't like him in my room.
The next morning, I got dressed in one of my old uniforms. I'd gotten better at dressing myself with three casts, and it only took me half of an hour to get the one-piece on. I then proceeded to call a maid to take me to the kitchen. The staff was already waiting for me.
"Hey, guys," I said with a smile. "Who's ready to cook?"
They all nodded with enthusiasm. I passed out notecards to delegate tasks. I felt useless and bothersome in the middle of the floor in my bulky chair. Then, they started asking me for my approval. I guess it wasn't that weird, since probably none of them had ever had a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but I still felt extremely flattered. I was rolled all over that kitchen and probably ate an entire Thanksgiving dinner while I was at it. By the time the idiot got home, there were twelve full dinners lining the counters of the huge kitchen. Needless to say, there were going to be some happy families this November, despite the fact Thanksgiving was over a week away.
"What is all of this?" he asked stupidly when he found me in the kitchen three hours later.
"This is me winning for the sixth time in a row!" I shouted slamming my cards on the table. The kitchen staff groaned and tossed coins my way.
"No. What is all of this food for?"
"It's my fall charity. All of this food is going to families and people in need. It's a family tradition. I have the list all made up, but I was waiting for you before I left so I didn't have to bother someone to take me up the stairs."
"We shall leave at once!" he proclaimed and then wheeled me off at warp speed.
"Bring the food, guys!" I called over my shoulder at the kitchen. I doubted they heard me, considering Tamaki's long legs, but twelve men carrying huge stacks of Tupperware containers proved me wrong. I had to sit in the front of the limo, and the back was so full of food that Tamaki was barely able to move. Even Mr. Katachi had a container of home-made cranberry sauce on his lap.
I gave directions to Mr. Katachi, who willingly obliged. I could see Tamaki in the rear-view mirror getting paler as we moved further into the bad part of town. The houses began to get more and more decrepit and thugs began to appear on the sidewalks. I gestured for Mr. Katachi to pull over in front of an old apartment building.
"Okay, this is our first stop. A woman lives here with eight children she can barely feed, since her husband died. She gets two of everything. The dishes are color-coded by Tupperware. Have fun," I said.
Tamaki and Mr. Katachi each grabbed a ton of different colored bowls and made their way up the stairs. Tamaki rang the doorbell with his elbow, and a young woman with a baby on her hip opened the door. I could tell she was crying as she beckoned the two in. They came back down minutes later with smiles on their faces.
"That woman was so sweet," Tamaki said. "Where to next?"
"We have a couple more private residences and several food banks to hit yet. We'd better get started," I said.
The limo started up again and we were off. We went to several families, but the majority of our stock went to eight different soup kitchens. The Japanese might not celebrate Thanksgiving, but a hot meal never went under appreciated. A surprising number of people actually hugged Tamaki. After the fifteenth time, he stopped flinching. That is until someone stole 6,000 yen off of him during one of those hugs. It was kind of his fault, anyways. Who carries that kind of money on them when they're surrounded by people barely scraping by? An idiot, that's who. And my point is made.
It was dark by the time we got back to the mansion. I told Mr. Katachi to go and get some sleep, since he is quite old. Everyone was exhausted. Apparently, the idiot was so exhausted he forgot I existed. He walked inside and left me out on the driveway. I tried screaming, throwing rocks, and the like, but it was nearing midnight, and everyone was already asleep. I was going to have to spend the night out here, and I was going to freeze. I was still in my old, threadbare jumper, which was just as good as nothing in the November night. I was actually getting used to the bite in the air, when the universe, which is a proven Kala hater, decided to let loose a torrential downpour.
Now, I was cold, wet, and my casts were going to need replaced. This was great. I threw my head back, and screamed as loud as I could at the sky. In the back of my mind I suppose I'd entertained the thought that maybe, someone would hear me, but the rain was so loud that I could barely hear myself, so how would someone deep in the mansion hear me? Well, the universe must've felt bad for being such a jag off to me for just about ever, because the front door opened.
I could've cried I was so happy. A minute later, Shima, that glorious woman, came out with an umbrella.
"Miss Santorini, what happened?" she asked.
"Tamaki left me out here when we got back. I've been out here for hours. Thank you so much, Shima," I rushed out, not bothering to correct her for calling me "Miss Santorini."
"It's a good thing the rain woke me up, then. Now, let's get you inside before you catch your death."
She rolled me inside and up to my room. Once we were both inside my suite, she immediately began to run a warm shower and strip me of my soaked clothes.
"You really don't have to do this, Shima. Go back to bed." I told her.
"I usually wake up at about this time, anyways. It might not seem like it, Miss Santorini, but it's nearly five o'clock in the morning."
"That's impossible. I haven't been out there for that long."
"You must have fallen asleep and not remembered it. The shower should be ready now."
She eased me out of my chair and onto the bench in the shower with surprising ease for an old woman. The water felt amazing. I slowly got feeling back in the arm that was actually allowed to get wet, as if my casts weren't already soaked. I could feel the padding chaffing my leg under the tarp I had to protect my legs and beneath the plastic bag over my arm.
"I'll make an appointment for your casts to be replaced this morning, Miss Santorini," Shima told me as she lifted me out of the shower to dry me off. After I was toweled off and changed into a pair of loose pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt, Shima left me alone to sleep. I highly doubted her belief that I had fallen asleep outside, because I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
It seemed as though I had barely closed my eyes, when a familiar high-pitched whine filled the room. Have I mentioned my locks need changed?
"Little sister!" he yelled/ whined. "I'm so sorry I left you outside last night! I was so tired after helping all of those people that I forgot! I'm so so sorry! Will you every forgive me?"
"Yes. Just let me sleep and go to school," I groaned. He squealed, kissed my cheeks, and, thankfully, left. I closed my eyes again and passed out.