Ch.4

-Arthur was in the kitchen, working passionately on some terrible-smelling meal. He nearly jumped when he saw London come in.

-"I needed the trash, not you," she said coldly.

-"oh, well…Alfred's having supper with us tonight, so clean up," he said dejectedly. The moment he said it, he seemed to regret his tone.

-"I won't do a single thing just because you order me to do it," she snapped, dropping the wrappings into the dust bin.

-"You opened your gifts?" Arthur asked.

-"Of course."

-"Are they nice?" Arthur asked, cordially.

-"They're ok," she was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how she felt.

-"I suppose they're traditional," he explained.

-"yeah, you know so much about Chinese tradition," she snapped sarcastically.

-"Alfred probably does. He works with Yao all the time!"

-London rolled her eyes. A sudden idea came to hear—she was bound to have some books on China in her vast library. She would check those later.

-"Alfred wouldn't know. I will be in the library."

-She started to leave, but turned back to Arthur. "By the way, what on earth are you trying to cook?"

….

-"Hey, London! You know what Arthur and I are always telling you about eating all that rice! Your eyes are going ot go slanted!" Alfred laughed from the other side of the table.

-London played with her large pile of rice in her bowl. It was her third helping, but she never really thought about it: rice was her comfort food; it had no restrictions to her. Alfred stopped laughing after a moment as neither Arthur nor London joined in on his humor. Appreciative of the quiet, London dejectedly picked up the knife and cut the large hamburger on her plate.

- "whoa, there! You don't cut a burger! You just dig into it! Here, do it like this!" Alfred interjected, demonstrating by taking his burger in his hands and taking a colossal bite.

-"I'm through eating. Excuse me," London muttered. She really was hungry, but she felt too sick from her stress to take another bite.

-"you hardly ate anything but rice! You gotta eat some beef now, you'll lose your English-ness completely! Turn Asian!" Alfred stammered his mouth partly-full.

-"Hmm. That doesn't seem to e a problem with other people," she scoffed, standing.

-"If you're afraid of y9our brother's food, "he continued," actually, it's darn good! I can't believe he actually made an edible burger! I love it!"

-"Thank you, I made them," London sighed, pushing in her chair.

-"you? Woah! They're sooo great!"

-London couldn't help but smiling at Alfred's joy. It was only a burger, but to him, it was his life and purpose.

-"I love cooking," she responded.

-"You should hang with Francis!"

-London stared at him for a moment. She knew she was related to him, but could hardly believe it. She had been with Francis her whole life, since before Alfred was even thinking about his own land. He didn't even remember that his own sister had indeed "hung out" with Francis, his close friend. She almost shook her head in laughable shame. "He says I'm not fast enough, but for home-style cooking, he values my work," she replied

-"That's hard to do- get a compliment from him! Hey! You seem down, you alright?" he asked between bites.

-"I'm not sad, you just shout a lot. It sounds like I'm being quiet."

-"man, you are really really upset! You totally should talk to us. What's up? I will save you from you misery. It's what I do."

-London nearly laughed again, but she shook her head and picked up her plate. A sudden idea occurred to her.

-"Do you know anything about China?"

-"Want or the rules of his house, or like what? The man or his land?"

-"Either"

-"He's a great cook!" Alfred Exclaimed, "he makes this chicken that's all sweet and called orange chicken! So good! And noodles and—"

-"I'm not even close to China and I know he simply made that as a gift for you. He would never eat food so rich and oily as a main part of his diet," she sighed. He would be of no help. With that, London took her plate and left.

-"did you have to make that Asian comment?" Arthur asked dully when she was out of the room.
"What? We used to say it all the time?" Alfred mumbled.

-Their voices faded as she paced down the hall. She fled to the library and shut the door, plate still in her hands, the bowl of rice balancing on top. She slammed her back to the door. Hot tears burn again in her eyes. She felt utterly alone, she was lost. Her family sat in a dining room, mocking her and giver her away. She dragger herself to the ornate armchair beside the pile of books she had pulled out earlier. They all related to China and it's customs. She sat, not touching a single one.

-A horrible empty felling ate inside her. It wasn't comfortable. "Better seat some beef! You'll lose all your English-nesss!" Alfred's voice echoed in her mind. She hurriedly took her hamburger into her hands and tired to eat as fast a possible. It didn't help at all, but tasted bland. She nearly chocked as tears started to shake her body. She swallowed to avoid the pain of the struggle to breathe. The buried her face in her crossed arms, silent tears flooding her.

-After some time, her body felt weak and hunger returned to her. She ashamedly looked back at her dinner, sitting on a small table nearby. The burger smelled fantastic, she knew it was flavorful. However , she knew it would taste cold and plain to her. The connotation of burgers as more than she could bear.

-Her rice sat cheerfully in its little bowl. London smiled. Possibly, it was all the crying that made her loopy, but the rice made her really happy. She laughed softly out loud. She weakly rose from her seat and put her hand between the cushions. She knew they shed put them somewhere. She felt around—ah there they were! Chopsticks. This was her favorite armchair, and she always had it stuffed with odd London felt she always needed with her.

-She took the tonsil out of its case and held them between her fingers. She took the small owl in the palm of her free hand and began to eat slowly. The sweet, solid smell was a deep comfort. Even though the rice was cold from sitting, it was like a comforting, warm, dressing robe. London snuggled into her chair, eating.

-"Silly, London. Why can't you be a normal Englishwoman?" she said softly.