Author's Note: The Sicktember blog was kind enough to post a link to lists of "sick" foods, and, yes, burned toast with Marmite was on one of them. Full confession, I have never had Marmite, but I know it has a reputation for its divisiveness. I can't really see Moffitt liking Marmite.
Prompt 15 – "Who decided _ is 'sick people food?'"
Jules wondered if he had lost his mind when he spotted two familiar figures walking up the driveway. He finished filling a horse trough with water, then turned off the hose so he could see if the two were who he thought they were. One of them had blond hair and the other had auburn. Jules broke into a run to greet them, grabbing both into a tight hug. "Lysander, Zeph! I didn't expect to see you until later in the year! Blimey, what possessed you to come all the way up here?"
"Well—" Lysander turned to his companion, "Tell him, Zeph."
"I just won a major surfing tournament in South Africa," Zeph said.
"Congratulations!" Jules gave Zeph a squeeze.
"Yeah, we decided to come tell you ourselves instead of going back to New Zealand and sending a letter."
"Bloody hell, Britain's very much out of the way, you know."
"Oh, we know, but we thought you should be the first to know," Lysander added.
"Too bad you didn't have come at a better time," Jules said.
"What's wrong?"
"Dad's sick."
"Oh, bugger. Will he be okay?"
"Yeah, he'll be alright." Jules lowered his voice. "We went out for dinner last night. Dad and I ordered the same thing, and it didn't exactly sit well with either of us. I was in a bad way all night, but I feel better now. Mum said she barely got any sleep because Dad barely got any sleep."
"That sounds like food poisoning, mate," Zeph said, grimacing.
"Anah's not so sure with how quickly I recovered, but she's tried just about every trick she knows and nothing's worked."
"Huh. Not even tea?"
"He hasn't even had his usual tea today."
"Oh." Zeph's eyes widened. "Oh, that's bad, then."
"Perhaps we can help," Lysander said.
"Are there some Kiwi home remedies we can try?" Jules asked.
"I mean, there might be ones I don't know about, but all the ones I had when I was little were remedies you'd find here."
"I had potions," Zeph said. "Some chicken soup, tea, honey, that sort of thing. There was one extremely odd and unpleasant one, though."
"Oh?"
"Burnt toast. Covered in Marmite."
Jules raised an eyebrow. "Burnt toast? Covered in Marmite?"
"Yeah, mate. Burnt toast covered in Marmite."
"You're bonkers. There's no way that'll work. We don't even have Marmite in the house because we don't like it."
"I don't like it, either, although I've heard the Kiwi version has a weaker flavor than the Brit version." Zeph playfully elbowed Lysander. "Your old man loves Marmite."
Lysander sighed. "And he puts it in everything!"
Zeph snorted. "I remember the look on Dietrich's face when he tasted your dad's infamous Marmite tuna sandwich. That was brilliant. Your dad was howling with laughter while Dietrich was trying to comprehend what he was tasting."
"Honestly, that was so mean of him to do, but at least that was a good icebreaker for them since Dad had been threatening to beat Dietrich over the head with a shovel just a few minutes beforehand."
"I'll give it that." Zeph turned back to Jules. "It's not the greatest, but if you've exhausted all other options, it might be worth a try."
"That really does sound like the 'out of options' option," Jules said. "Burnt toast with blasted Marmite. Why burnt toast, though?"
Zeph shrugged. "Mum never explained it, but if I had an upset stomach, the toast was getting slightly burnt and then it was slathered in Marmite. That's just how it was."
"Alright." Jules gestured toward the house. "Let's go in and see if Dad would be willing to try it. I have a feeling he won't. You both know how stubborn and picky he is."
"Oh, we know, but it's always worth a try, eh?"
Jules agreed with that, but he also wasn't getting his hopes up. He led Lysander and Zeph inside, where Anah was poring over a book on the kitchen table. She looked as frazzled as a snake could look, and her expression turned to one of fluster when she saw that Jules brought guests. "Oh, goodness," she said. "Hello, dears! I am so sorry I have nothing ready—"
"It's okay, Anah," Lysander said. "We can make our own tea if we have to."
"I know, but I am trying to be a good hostess." Anah slithered over to the counter, taking the kettle telekinetically to fill it with water.
"How's Dad doing?" Jules asked.
"No change, dear," Anah replied. "I just gave him a heating pad."
"I thought the heating pad was for sore muscles and achy joints when we're sick."
Now Jules was certain that if Anah had hair, she would be tearing it out at this point. "I am running out of options, honey! I am willing to try anything to help your father!"
"Right. Um, I'm sorry, Anah. We…" Jules glanced at Lysander and Zeph, "We might have something you can try."
"Name it. Name it, dear, please."
"Burnt toast with Marmite on it," Zeph said.
Anah's jaw dropped. She sputtered for a moment. "Wha… I… D-Did you just say, 'burnt toast with Marmite on it?'"
"Yeah."
Anah's mouth remained open. Her gaze switched between Jules and Zeph, then stopped at Zeph. "Are you insane?"
Zeph shrugged. "Maybe."
"This… This is not a joke? You actually just said 'burnt toast with Marmite.'"
"Yep. You did just say you were willing to try anything."
"Yes, I did." Anah sounded defeated. "Now, did you bring any Marmite with you? We have none."
"No. We'll happily pay for it, but we want to know if Jules's old man approves."
Anah sighed. "Well, you can go speak with him, but do forgive him for being a bit grouchy."
Jules was the first to look into the parlor. Moffitt was lying on the couch with the heating pad pressed on his stomach. The family's Siberian husky, Livna, was on the floor, keeping watch over Moffitt. A trash can was by the couch, just in case. Moffitt's illness was especially evident in the fact that it was after ten in the morning and his cup of tea was still mostly full. The tea wasn't even his usual English breakfast, but a potent blend of peppermint, ginger, and lemon. Jules wondered if bothering his father was even a good idea, but if they were going to attempt this remedy, they needed his approval. "Dad? Are you awake?"
"What sort of a question is that?" Moffitt muttered. "What bloody sleep am I to expect when my stomach feels and sounds like a swamp with the world's angriest whale living in it?"
"That's going on my list of 'sentences I didn't expect to hear today,'" Zeph said.
"Gross," Lysander added while making a face.
"To be fair, that's how I felt after that dodgy meat pie a couple of years ago."
"Oi, nobody wants to know."
"Am I hallucinating now, or did I hear Lysander and Zeph?" Moffitt asked.
"No, you heard them," Jules said. "Zeph won a surf tournament in South Africa."
"Oh, good. Congratulations, Zeph."
"Thanks," Zeph replied.
"What are you two doing here, then?"
"We decided to come up for a visit, but it looks like maybe our visit wasn't so random after all."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, Jules told us about your little predicament here—"
"I'd say it's far more than a 'little' predicament," Moffitt grumbled.
"I might have a solution."
"Let's hear it."
"Burnt toast with Marmite."
Moffitt couldn't turn to glare at Zeph, so he glared up at the ceiling. "Burnt toast with Marmite?"
"Yeah, mate."
"Burnt toast. With Marmite." Moffitt nodded a little. "Alright."
Silence fell over the whole house, aside from Anah talking to herself in the kitchen about her lack of options to help Moffitt. Jules glanced first at Zeph, then at his father, unsure of what to expect.
Moffitt drew in a breath. "Who decided burnt toast with Marmite is 'sick people food?'"
"I don't know," Zeph said. "That's what I got every time my stomach didn't feel good. Mum insisted on it."
"No offense, Zeph, but didn't you say on our first trip to New Zealand that your mother overcooked eggs until the yolk had the consistency of a bloody eraser? That doesn't exactly reassure me about how well this'll work, especially since it contains that awful Marmite. I don't understand why so many people like it. It's like jam made of anchovies!"
"It worked for me, and I don't eat Marmite."
"There are also plenty of things that're supposed to be good for you, but taste horrid," Jules said.
"Yes, like cauliflower," Moffitt replied, with a slight grin.
"Oh, come off it, Dad, you don't like cauliflower, either."
"No, I don't. Whether or not it's worse than bloody Marmite is a debate for another day."
Zeph sighed. "So, am I to assume that you're not going to give this a try."
"First—did Vanora come home? Who is Anah talking to?"
"Herself," Jules said.
"Oh." Moffitt let out a sigh of his own. "I better try it, then. Poor Anah."
"Where's your nearest dairy? I can get the Marmite for you," Lysander said.
"Go to the end of the road that our home is on, facing Cambridge. Cross the road to get to the sidewalk, and keep walking to the end of that street. There's a little shop that should have it. Do you need British money?"
"No, thanks. I got some exchanged at the airport. And, don't worry about the Marmite afterward—I'll take it home. I know Dad will enjoy it."
"Look, I like your father, but the next time we visit, remind me not to touch any of his cooking. I'd rather not play 'Marmite roulette.'"
Jules tried to cover a snort. After Lysander left to retrieve the Marmite, Jules and Zeph received cups of tea from Anah and stayed in the parlor to keep Moffitt company. Livna got up to sit by Jules and put her head on his lap, closing her eyes while enjoying some scratches. "You seem to be in a better mood, Dad," Jules said. "At least, better than what I was expecting. Are you feeling any better?"
"I still feel awful, but not nearly as bad as last night," Moffitt replied.
"Are you sure this isn't food poisoning?" Zeph asked. "If the toast doesn't work, maybe you should go to hospital."
"Neither of us have thrown up," Jules said. "Well, I didn't."
"I was convinced several times last night that I would finally chunder, but nothing happened," Moffitt replied. "Nothing."
"What did you even order?" Zeph asked.
"Beef stew," Jules said. "Nothing tasted wrong. In fact, it was really good."
"Well, if it wasn't food poisoning, then maybe it was prepared in a way that you two are really sensitive to. Maybe it was cooked with something your bodies can't quite handle. Regardless, at least it seems mild compared to what I dealt with. Still, I'd see a doctor if you don't see any improvement soon."
"We knew Jules probably inherited my shoddy digestive system when he had all that colic as a baby," Moffitt said. "I had a great deal of colic as a baby, and Michael didn't. My mother said that I was such a crier that she still wonders what possessed her and Father to have another. At least they were blessed with Michael."
Jules became aware of the fact that he was holding his breath. Usually, whenever his father talked about Michael, things would become sad, and Moffitt would shut down emotionally for a little while. This time, Moffitt's mood remained where it was, so Jules relaxed.
"I'll always be grateful that Dietrich was so willing to take you off our hands whenever you wouldn't stop crying," Moffitt continued.
"He's good with babies, and he's good with teenagers, but he can't seem to figure out everything in the middle," Jules said with a slight laugh.
"No, he can't. He's working on it, though. Gunther will turn out alright."
They heard the door open and close, followed by Lysander saying, "I got the Marmite!"
Jules and Zeph went out into the kitchen to see Lysander holding up a little black jar with a yellow lid like it was an artifact dug up from the desert. Anah slithered onto the counter, sighing before saying, "I hope this works."
"It's a pity Troy isn't here," Jules said. "He'd probably make the best burnt toast. By accident, of course."
"Careful, dear, knowing him, he would turn that bread into charcoal because he wanted to use his flamethrower."
"I still think it's cool that Dietrich got to use that flamethrower when you stormed the magpie castle," Zeph said.
"You have magic, though," Jules said. "You can set things on fire with your wand."
Lysander gave a very fake cough. "Dad's barbecue!"
Zeph elbowed him. "For the last time, mate, that was a bloody accident! And, yes, I can use magic, but with a flamethrower, you can get more fire at once, and it looks amazing."
"We'll have to take you to Wyoming at some point," Jules said. "I'm sure Troy would be happy to let you have a go with his flamethrower."
Thin gray trails of smoke were coming from the toaster just before the bread popped up. Sure enough, it was quite black around its edges, save for the center. Normally, it would have been repurposed for something else, or thrown away. Today, that burned piece of toast wasn't being thrown away. Anah set it on a plate, and slithered aside to let Zeph take the jar of Marmite. She tasted the scent of the paste with her forked tongue, and recoiled. "My, that is strong."
"Yeah," Zeph said. He took a sniff of the Marmite. "Oh, they weren't kidding about Brit Marmite being strong." After spreading the sticky substance all over the toast, Zeph took a dab on the butterknife, and licked it. He made a face. "Ugh, I'd hate to be given this stuff every time I was sick. I'll take the Kiwi version any day."
The three boys and snake looked over the sad-looking burnt toast slathered in sticky, salty, yeasty Marmite. Jules doubted anyone could look at this and think it could solve anything. He decided to be the one to bear the dish, and gently picked it up to bring it out to the parlor and present it to his father. Jules was careful to not drop the toast, as the last thing he, Anah, his mother, or especially his father wanted to do was clean Marmite out of the carpet. Livna, who had been still and quiet the whole time, looked up in doggy confusion with her head tilted as Jules walked into the room with the toast.
Moffitt was looking uncomfortable and frustrated. He was slow to sit up, and muttered, "This had better work."
"Unfortunately, we can't make any promises," Zeph said.
Moffitt frowned at the Marmite on the toast. "I'll never understand how this stuff became a bloody British culinary icon. Yorkshire pudding, I get. Sticky toffee pudding is divine. Clotted cream—oh, spread over a crumpet with jam and a good cup of tea is simply heaven! Not this."
"Think of it as medicine," Lysander said.
"I'm trying. Frankly, I am starting to want something better than this."
"If you're feeling hungry, that's a good sign," Jules said. "Maybe that's been part of the problem all along. I felt leagues better after breakfast."
Moffitt sighed. "Well, I won't waste this. Perhaps it'll at least help my appetite—even though I couldn't imagine anything less appetizing."
"Apart from Troy's cooking?"
"Yes. Apart from Troy's cooking." Moffitt picked up the toast. "Alright. Let's see what you taste like."
Jules glanced at Zeph, who was trying to remain optimistic. Lysander was leaning against the doorway, giving both Jules and Zeph an expression of uncertainty.
Moffitt took a decent-sized bite out of the burnt toast. He made a face, and Jules went to grab the trash can when Moffitt gagged. Much to everyone's relief, nothing happened, other than Moffitt saying, "No, no, it's alright!" He swallowed. "I can finish this."
"Alright. Just don't make yourself sick," Jules said.
"It's a little late for that."
"Good point."
When Moffitt finished the toast, he handed the plate back to Jules, his expression still contorted. "Could you get me a glass of water, please?"
"Sure." Jules jogged into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. He went slower when he had the water, but was still quick to give it to his father.
Moffitt maintained a grimace until he drank every last drop of water from the glass. He then picked up the cup of lukewarm tea, and drank it like he did the water. "This is not how tea was meant to be drunk, but it's all I can do to not taste the bloody Marmite anymore."
"Do you feel better at all?"
"Give it a few minutes. I'll let you know. Could you get Anah, please?"
"What do you need, dear?" Anah called from the kitchen.
"You."
"Could you be more specific?"
"I want you, Anah. Bloody hell, you're the one always begging for a cuddle and I'm offering you one."
"You could have said 'a cuddle.'" Anah slithered out into the parlor and climbed up onto Moffitt to be snuggled against his chest.
"I know they were all curled up together when you were visiting us, but it'll always be funny seeing a snake get cuddled," Zeph said.
"It's her favorite thing to do, along with cooking and gardening," Jules said.
They all turned when the front door opened, and Vanora entered the house. She slid her shoes off and set her purse on the table before looking up and saying, "Well, hello. I wasn't expecting any company today."
"Hello, ma'am," Lysander said. "Sorry about that."
"Oh, no, it's alright. I know it's a long way to here from New Zealand. You boys must be exhausted."
"Actually, we came from South Africa. Zeph won a surf tournament."
"Congratulations, Zeph." Vanora's smile quickly faded. "I take it you've seen Jack."
"No worries, ma'am. We may've cured him." Lysander gave two thumbs up.
Vanora glanced between the parlor door and Lysander. "You defeated the angry swamp-whale?"
"I already grossed them out with that, darling!" Moffitt called.
"'Angry swamp-whale,'" Zeph said, suppressing a giggle.
"Are you feeling better, love?" Vanora asked, peering into the parlor.
"Shockingly, yes," Moffitt replied, looking up from snuggling Anah. "I don't feel nearly as nauseated as I did this morning."
"So, we should be able to get some sleep tonight?"
"Yes."
Vanora looked at Lysander and Zeph. "What did you do and how can I repay you?"
"Burnt toast with Marmite," Zeph said.
Vanora's jaw dropped. "…What?"
"The cure was burnt toast with Marmite."
"Jack hates Marmite! How did you get him to eat it?"
"Desperation. And Anah was so worked up that she was talking to herself."
Vanora looked like she had a million more questions, but ultimately accepted what she was hearing. "Alright, then. What would you like in return?"
"Can we take your son back to New Zealand with us?" Zeph put his arm around Jules's neck to roughly tousle his hair.
"Not this time, unfortunately."
"Bugger. Alright, I'll think of something else."
"I think being able to stay on short notice is repayment enough," Lysander said.
"Fair enough," Vanora said.
Jules turned to Lysander and Zeph. "So, now that's out of the way, what would you like to do?"
"Well, I know what we're not doing," Lysander replied.
"What?"
Zeph snorted before saying, "Going to whatever restaurant you went to last night."
