Night 59: Warfarin, Watermelon Jelly
The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?
As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.
Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.
Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.
Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.
Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.
"I've always told them engineers, unless they figure out a way to pump coolant directly into my brain or my arteries without killing me, it's no use no matter how well they tune the AC units." An operator from the Medical Department downed the last gulp of his cola and slammed the glass on the table, rattling the ice cubes. "Running around in those hazmat suit all day every day, can't even feel the cool winds no matter how low the ACs are!"
"At least you have AC, what about us off-boarders?" Across the table, his companion was cradling a large bowl of ice-cream. "You should look at the weather outside. It's hot enough to melt the roof of our cars! Just the other day I was waiting for the manager of one of our branch offices in the town center. Me and another guy. Us two Felines in full enviro-suits were taller than the Sarkaz mercs, and we stood waiting under the sun for nearly half an hour. We'd almost start hallucinating."
The medical operator let out a sigh and poured himself another glass of cola. "At least it beats becoming a pile of Orirocks. Wait till we get out of here and into the lake regions. It'd be much cooler then. Cheers." He raised his glass.
"Cheers to you too." His back-on-board friend raised his bowl and clinked with his glass. "Hopefully they could send iced cola and ice-cream in the next supply shipment."
It had been hot lately. Hot enough that even the cold drinks and iced fruits the Logistics prepared was not enough to cool down those who were tormented by the heat and sweat. And so the Diner timely put out large cola with ice and fresh fruit ice-cream. Although the sun was not striking them directly overhead, the ventilation system had also cooled the on-board air considerably, there was still an oppressive air of summer heat about the ship, like a heavy, formless hand holding the operators down. Even indoors, a slight bout of activities would make one sweat. It was quite a struggle to go about daily business in sweat-damped cloth. Times like this, a tall glass of bone-chilling, tooth-rattling iced drink would the the only thing that could calm the simmering heat inside one's heart - a few large gulps down, a carbonated burp and a shiver later, the flame of the day would finally die down somewhat.
"But that style of living was just so unhealthy!" A doctor watched as the operators downed their fill of cold drinks. She let out a resigned sigh and put down her own glass. "Irregular meal schedule, over-consumption of sugar, imbalance of bodily temperature. Not in a week's time the Medical is going to be swarmed by people with upset stomach."
"I thought you'd be looking forward to that." The Chef put the cut watermelon chunks into a small pouch made from cheesecloth and squeezed. Crimson juice flowed freely out from underneath. "Taking blood samples, testing new drugs. They all sounded like something you would do on some unwitting patients of yours."
"But that is my job!" The doctor, or the vampire doctor, swallowed when her sight fell onto the crimson fluid before the Chef, even though she knew it was only watermelon juice. "Do you have to make it sound like I'm some kind of unethical mad doctor experimenting on my patients?"
"Well..." The Chef wanted to say something, though after slight consideration he changed his tone. "That's how everyone feel about you. Why else, do they think, such a shining example of medical practice would be left dangling upside down on the bridge mast on regular basis?"
"It's a small sacrifice for the advancement of medical science! That old ha - I mean Dr. Kal'tsit was too conservative in her methods." Warfarin almost slammed her fist on the table. "Who'd have the heart to leave someone hanging outside in this weather?! Obviously she's worse! Look at me! My skin is peeling off in the sun! I'm a vampire, I can't stand the sunlight!"
The squeezed watermelon juice was filtered again. Translucent juice with thin strands of pulp inside the clear glass bowl, like a bright crimson amber when looking from afar. The Chef cast a sympathetic look toward Warfarin, yet he shook his head. "Shame, that. You should've slather yourself with sunscreen before Dr. Kal'tsit caught you. At least your work space is much nicer."
"No, not at all! Me and other doctors had to wear scrubs and hazmat suit. You wouldn't imagine the feel." Warfarin started to get agitated. "The blood samples, they are right before me, just within my reach. But I can't even take a whiff with my mask on, and could only watch as they were bottled up and put into the cold storage! Not to mention during operations - Feline, Perror, Durin, even Abyssal Hunters, all that blood!..."
"Ey doc, you are getting into some real dangerous territories there." The Chef said, stirring the melted agar in a small pot. "This is my Diner, not your blood bank. I can only offer you watermelons, strawberries and tomatoes. And I wouldn't recommend you go after my guest, either. Their blood sugar level would be off the charts by now."
"I had said and I will say again, I'm different from other vampires! My senses are sharp and my discipline iron, to me patients and food are not the same!" Warfarin was hitting hard on the table with her finger knuckle. She refuted. "And I will not partake substitutes in red fruit juices! That would be an insult to me!...And an insult to all vampire-kind!"
The Chef answered her indignation with an nonchalant chuckle, and added the watermelon juice into the melted agar in the pot. The mixture was heated to half-boil, and he skimmed off the foam on the surface. The Chef watched the temperature carefully - if it got too hot, the whole thing would taste sour. When it was done, he poured the mixture into a few small glass bowls. Presently, from top to bottom it showed a gradient of red - light to dark, quite enticing to the appetite. And due to its hand-squeezed nature it would carry a richer texture than the ones made from fast yet callous machine-pressed juice.
The Chef placed the small bowls onto a tray and put it inside the fridge. Then he took out a previously made batch, and poured spoonfuls of amber-coloured sugar water into each bowl.
"The water is made with Yan rock sugar, with peppermint and orange rind added to it during its making. Calms down the temper, and good for the lungs too. So they say." The Chef said, placing a small peppermint leaf on top, and pushed the delicate bowl towards Warfarin with a small spoon. "You've been out on the bridge mast for the whole day. Try some."
Warfarin shook the bowl slightly, and the jelly inside swayed. Crimson and translucent, it looked like crystallized blood with red veins beneath the lamp light. It gave out a slight scent of sweetness with a hint of peppermint. The Chef had made diagonal cuts on the jelly beforehand, and the soft, slightly swaying diamond-shaped jelly floated in the amber colored sugar water. Warfarin dug in with the spoon. Even though it did not have the smell nor taste of blood, she did not refuse the sweet treat. It slid down her throat before she could chew, and with it the light aroma of watermelon from the tip of her tongue all the way into her stomach. Then came the aftertaste of peppermint, cool and stinging, neutralizing the excessive sweetness from the sugar. This treat made from fresh fruit was far from unhealthy, and the coolness of it was no less effective in tuning down the heat than a glass of cold soda.
Warfarin did not stop till the jelly was no more. Now she was staring into the bowl, with only the peppermint leaf floating atop a thin layer of sugar water at the bottom.
"Another I think?" The Chef pushed another bowl towards her. "Looks to me you rather like the substitute."
"...Though hard to admit, it was nice." Warfarin said, nodding. "By the way, If you could make something like this out of blood, I'll take all you can make. Shouldn't be hard with your skill, right? How about it? I can provide blood. Consider it as summertime evening snack for me. I can pay you whatever you offer!"
"Eh, go find Nian." The Chef said, taking out another watermelon from the fridge. He skillfully sliced it in the middle, and the watermelon split into two, showing its firm red innards. "She makes a lot of blood tofu for her hotpot. Maybe she could share some with you."
Warfarin hanged her head low in silence. She remembered eating spicy hotpot with Nian and sweating up a storm. Then she cut into the watermelon jelly and send it into her mouth.
"Actually, substitute is alright sometimes." She said.
