31. Home cooking
He had never been a healthy eater. Having spent a great deal of his life in the army his idea of a good meal was instant mashed potatoes and gravy with a luke warm piece of gritty steak. Sometimes if he was feeling up to it, he would attempt to make something for himself. This usually ended up being burnt eggs or some other charred delight. Needless to say, he didn't eat much quality food.
At some point in their friendship, she had taken pity on him. Every Wednesday, she would enter the office with an uncharacteristically pink bag. Inside was a bento lunch set that she would prepare specifically for herself and Roy. Sometimes some of the men would jokingly ask her if she would make them a lunch. She would only smile and shake her head.
In the beginning it was a simple lunch shared between the two at their desks. Then one day he had brought in a small Zataku that could be folded and stored away in a closet. Now every week it was his job to pull the little table out and set it up while she removed each of the dishes from her bento set and prepared them to eat.
While the bag had remained the same pink one, the bento set had not. She had started off serving him in a cheap plastic set she had bought at some marketplace. However, as the years passed she had bought a much nicer wooden set. It was beautiful black stained wood, ornate with red swirls. Upon closer inspection one would almost mistake them for flames. She would never admit to picking them for that reason and he never remarked on the choice.
Quietly she would serve him his meal. Each week she would lovingly prepare something different for him. If Roy had known much about cooking, he would have known that it took her many hours and lots of attention to detail in order prepare the decorative food.
During this time the two of them would take a break from work and talk of their family and life. Talking about work was forbidden and for a moment each week, they both felt a moment of peace. This was the only time the two allowed themselves to leave their work out of their conversations.
No one in the office disturbed the two of them during this time unless it was a life or death situation. There was no spoken or written rule that they would do this, but it was something they silently agreed upon. Could it have been the smile that their Colonel only had on Wednesday evenings, or the slight bounce in the Lieutenant's step each Wednesday morning that caused them to do this? Maybe they just sensed that something special and sacred happened between the occupants of that room each week, and they sought to honor that.
Zataku – I had to look this one up myself. This is the name of the low tables you see in Japanese restaurants. Do a google search for the word if you are curious.
This story came to me because of something I read a while back about bento lunches and the tradition in Japan. One website I found put it perfectly "When a person eats a box lunch prepared by a loved one, the preparer's feelings are transmitted through the food. In other words, the bento serves as a vehicle for communication between the maker and the eater."
