Kitchen Patrol.
In the darkness he had grown accustomed to, the young Adam Kendall gently closed the door behind him.
From memory, he knew every nook and cranny in the place.
He was in the kitchen of the Burton Asylum for the blind. Other students stood in places that had been assigned to them exactly in order for the cooking to progress hazardously in an area where nearly everyone was blind.
Everyone knew their duties and were following them to the letter and would continue to follow them.
Everyone, that is, except Adam Kendall.
Keeping a straight face for the benefit of the sighted supervisor, Adam strolled over to his workplace, and began preparing dough mixture and apple filling.
For minutes Adam worked, giving away no sign of his scheme.
After the dough was laid, Adam put the finishing touches on the apple filling.
Smirking inwardly, Adam felt the Braille labels on the spice canisters in front of him. Bypassing the Cinnamon, Adam picked up the Cayenne Pepper canister, and shook a generous portion of powder onto the filling, then mixed it in thoroughly.
Adam then filled the small pies with apple filling, created appropriate lids, and set them in the oven to bake.
Adam then proceeded to clean up the used dishes, and waited for the pies of his labour.
By desert, the pies were ready to be served. Adam had to act properly surprised when he took a bite of his own pie.
The spicy aroma wafted into his nostrils as everyone began cutting into their own pies.
Collectively, forks were raised into mouths as the flavour burst over tastebuds.
For a few seconds, nothing happened, and then there was a series of gulps and gurgles as people swallowed the first bite of pie, and then guzzled their water down. When that didn't work, there was a general stampede out the door to find something to quench their burning mouths and throats.
One person had finished his pie and sat alone.
"All the more for me…" Adam softly whispered.
A/N: Mary Ingalls takes the road less travelled will be continued.