Aattu Kudal Kulambu (Lamb Intestine Curry)
September 28th | 6:00 PM
"Ah, Jesus Winston, was that really necessary?" Will cursed, wiping sunflower seed shells down his shirt as the tawny mutt, his most recent rescue, finished scrambling off of the couch and began skittering across the hardwood floor into the next room. Will rolled his eyes at the reaction, knowing that it could only mean one thing: he'd forgotten his phone on his dresser, as per usual, and it was now buzzing an alert.
Will glanced down at the collection of shells, coated in a dusty layer of ranch flavouring, now gathered in a makeshift pouch at the front of his shirt. He sighed, considering himself for a moment before carefully folding the fabric up against his body and following Winston into the next room.
The dog sat at attention in front of the wardrobe, mouth hanging open, tail wagging low and anxious, ears pinned back.
"What is it, buddy?" Will asked in a soothing voice, making his way to the trash bin at his bedside and shaking out the shells before turning back to the dog. Winston was still shifting uncomfortably, pointing his nose up at the phone, only calming once Will set one hand on the dog's head and reached out to pick up his vibrating phone with the other.
"It's just my phone, Winny. You see?" Will crouched down, bringing the cell closer to the dog. Winston whined at first, taking a step back, but he stilled when Will began to scratch behind his ears.
"It won't hurt you," Will murmured, unlocking it and bringing its bright screen forward for Winston to inspect. The dog leaned forward, sniffing cautiously as if waiting to be bitten. "See? That's a good boy. Now let's see who's texted us. Maybe it's Uncle Jack?"
Winston's ears perked up.
"Yeah, maybe we'll go for a walk with him, hm?" Will grinned, moving to scratch the dog's scruffy haunches as he looked for his most recent notifications. His shoulders slumped—there was nothing from Jack. No one else had texted him either, which meant the notification had to have come from an app. He scrolled until he found the red dot, a short message immediately popping up on screen.
Hi Will! You are H.L.'s highest rated personal shopper, so we're giving you first dibs at their jobs. They need you to pick up some pantry basics. Are you interested?
H.L. It took Will a moment to remember the order, but then the customer's sharp words and cool demeanour came rushing back to Will and he felt a twinge of indignation. Where did the man get off, giving Will a high rating after openly scolding him for being late? What could other drivers have done to earn a lower rating, if he'd been reprimanded for only running a few minutes behind schedule?
Winston whined again and nudged his head against Will's hand; Will wasn't sure if that meant the dog was worried about him or annoyed that he'd stopped getting pets. Several of the other dogs shuffled restlessly in the front room. Will grit his teeth, thumb hovering over the large red "X" on screen. He was already in his pyjamas—a set of boxers and a worn-out university shirt—and there were fishermen yelling on the TV in the other room… but something held him back. Maybe it was the ever-present sting of having been fired the year before, or maybe it was the way Lecter had seemed to be goading him into another attempt when they'd last seen each other, but Will suddenly felt his indignation shift into something more violently competitive.
Dr. Lecter's preferred grocer was twenty-five minutes away, and he wanted the ingredients no later than 7:00. Will could make it.
6:45 PM
Will re-read the list, mentally checking off everything he already knew was sitting bagged in his passenger seat.
Three cups of pearl onions Three medium tomatoes Four green chillies Three small sticks of cinnamon Two cups of fennel seeds Two cups of poppy seeds Two cups of shredded coconutHe had it all, each ingredient frustratingly labelled as "organic" despite being specifically ordered from a small market which only sourced organic produce. It had taken him less time than he'd expected, having already gotten the lay of the land on his last trip to Aneto, and so Will found himself with fifteen agonizingly long minutes to spare. He could've sent out a notification on the app, given H.L. the news that his order would be arriving early, but some part of Will guessed that that outcome would be just as irritating to Lecter as his lateness had been last time around.
So, working desperately to slow his heart rate, Will stared at his phone for ten minutes before beginning the short walk to Dr. Lecter's door. He had been able to get a parking spot closer to the house this time, despite several high-end cars being parked directly in front of it. He wondered if he should've waited for another minute before leaving his car. This was his chance to prove himself—he didn't want to fuck that up.
The front door opened before Will had even completed his approach. He hesitated, eyes widening as he froze on the front step, brown paper bag crinkling in his grip.
"Hello," Dr. Lecter greeted him with a small, insufferably charming half-smile. Will fought every urge to look away, choosing to tighten his grip on the bag instead.
"Hello," he replied through gritted teeth.
"Ten minutes is an awfully long time to be waiting inside your vehicle, Will," Dr. Lecter remarked, reaching out a hand to receive the groceries. Will remained frozen, not sure if he should be more off-put by the fact that the doctor must've been staring at his location in the app for several minutes, or that he was continuing to use Will's first name as if they were old friends.
"I suppose it is, isn't it?" Will muttered, passing the bag to Lecter and pulling his hand back as quickly as he could. The doctor's lips twitched as if he were suppressing a smile.
"I appreciate the initiative, Will, but right on time will be just fine moving forward. I'm sure you'll get there eventually."
The belittling tone incensed Will, but he found himself unable to turn away, unable to admit that he had somehow screwed this delivery up, too. Almost every other client would've been thrilled if their order arrived early.
"No meat tonight?"
The words erupted from Will's mouth before he could stop them. The doctor's almost non-existent eyebrows flickered upward.
"I generally source my own," Lecter replied, looking Will up and down. The gaze made his skin prickle. "Mrs. Liang is one of only three butchers I patronize within the city."
You do know a thing or two about patronizing, don't you? Will thought before squaring his shoulders and looking away.
"I see," he mumbled. "I'm sure she appreciates that."
"Enough to give me free mushrooms, anyway," Dr. Lecter replied, and Will could hear the bemused, barely withheld smile in his voice again. He glanced back, resisting the urge to scowl.
"I… yes. Well, have a good night, sir," Will managed to make his way through the sentence without any mistakes, flashing a curt smile and nod before turning to head back down the front steps.
"Did Aneto have everything you needed? I'm afraid I can't afford to miss any ingredients."
Will furrowed his brow. Surely this man knew that all personal shoppers were contractually obliged to message the client if there was an issue, especially for small orders that seemed to be for specific meals.
"Yeah," Will nodded, looking over his shoulder. "They've got a great selection."
"Good," the customer nodded, a pleased look on his face. "I'll keep using them when I order from you, then."
You. The doctor had to mean the company as a whole, not Will as an individual. Will cast his eyes down at the concrete sidewalk, still damp from the afternoon's rain.
"As long as you're satisfied with our services, sir."
"I do not pay for any services I am not satisfied with," Dr. Lecter spoke again, still refusing to let the conversation end. Will could hear that he had stepped outside, paper bag noisy in his hands.
"A good policy," Will replied in a stilted tone, continuing to stare at the ground. "But I'm afraid I have to go, Dr. Lecter. I hope you enjoy your meal."
There was silence for a beat. Will felt his body relax slightly as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"Tell me, Will, are there particular days on which you are available for hire?"
"No," Will replied far too quickly, turning around to look at the doctor again, "I just take jobs when I feel like it."
Lecter looked as though he was observing the most fascinating piece of art in the world. A new feeling arrived in Will, something cold and frightful that sat just behind his navel.
"Well, I hope you feel like taking on more of my orders in the future then, Will. Take care of yourself."
