Ben woke up with the first sunrays coming from his window. The air was chilly, he got up while rubbing his arms and making his way to the bathroom in his room. Once cleaned up he felt ready to face the day though he was stll irked about the whole situation. He figured after a good rest his mind was clearer. Maybe things would go smoothly if he just kept his head down and worked, then everything could be bearable.
Going out his room he glanced over at the wide door were Dr Cole was sleeping, he thought about talking to him, but then the smell of meat being cooked reached him. His insides made an audible rumble noise, so he figured that could wait till after breakfast.
Downstairs and into the kitchen he found Amana cooking. There was something inside a pan with a lid on, steam was escaping rapidly from between the two. On the counter next to the stove there was a big red tray were a big plate filled to the brim with mashed potatoes and an enormous glass of what looked like orange juice on the side. However what caught Ben’s attention and displeasure was the way she was dressed: a loose wifebeater and boxers that reached to the middle of her thigh. She also had an apron which she was currently using to clean her hands with.
Amana noticed Ben on the corner of her eye, and when she turned and met his eye her calm expression morphed abruptly into distate, as if she had seen a cockroach crawling under her fridge.
“What is the meaning of that get up?” Ben barked
“Good morning new head researcher Dr. Doe.” Amana greeted him, with no attention to his comment.
“Whose men are those clothes from? do you know no decency?” Ben was irritated, Amana simply stared at him while she shook the pan back and forth and held the lid in place. “Dress more ladylike! You’re a professional… or at least supposed to be.”
The pan stopped moving, and she turned to face Ben with her hands on her hips.
“I don’t see the problem, nor did Dr Cole, he gave me these spare clothes. This job is 24 hours, don’t make it more difficult by making me wear whatever you decide is proper attire.”
“I was already headed to the post office today, i’ll report this deviant behaviour too and we’ll see what you think is confortable then.”
Her expression calmed down one notch, which pleased Ben, thinking his threat worked. Amana grabbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes and she walked over to him while pointing at him with the spoon. The hunger suddely took a hold of him, his mouth was agape, ready to receive the food, like a child, but before he could fully open his mouth she stopped the spoon a few inches away from his face. She then calmly sang a rythmless song
“Oh baby, don’t you know? We’ve hit rock bottom.” She then flipped the spoon upside down, and the full amount of it fell on Ben’s shiny shoe and part of his pants. “Not much lower for us to go.”
It took Ben a moment to understand this had really happened, by then Amana had gone back to her cooking. He became red with anger and as he kneeled down to clean the food of his shoe he clenched his teeth holding back a myriad of insults.
Amana finally lift the lid from the pan, the steam rose up and underneath it a roasted ham revealed itself with a surge of delicious smell, half submerged in the meaty juices it was cooked with. At one look and a faint sniff Ben’s stomach was striken with a painful craving. Amana carelessly flipped the pan over the potatoes, the ham fell right in the midde of it and the juices rained over the creamy whiteness, and all over the kitchen. Amana moved the tray over to the table as she sit down and started cutting down a thick slice from the delicious meal.
Ben broke out of his stuppor, and his annoyance from earlier was pushed aside. Calmly, and trying not to sound excited, he asked:
“Where are the plates?
“Oh, no, this is mine, there’s some bread on that cupboard and eggs on the counter.”
“EXCUSE ME?!” Ben exploded
“Doctor, your voice please, this is a hospital.”
“There’s no way you’re finishing that! That looks like a christmas feast!”
“Just watch mee.”
Ben was livid, he grabbed three slices of bread and put them to toast, then he leaned on the counter, arms crossed and stared at Amana with piercing eyes, watching her eat. Soon enough, that glare became a frustrated bewilderment. She cut big slices and loaded them with potato, then into her mouth it went. She ate similar portions and each one took her around ten seconds of calm chewing to finish despite the absurd size. After she would drink some of the juice and move on to the next portion. Ben got so entranced, he was startled when he realized his toasts were catching fire, by the time he put them out Amana was drinking the last bit of juice.
“Very well.” She said, getting up from the table. Her lips were stained with different juices, she licked them and suck the rest of her fingers.
“Is this every day?“ Ben finally asked in debelief “How can you eat that much?”
“My diet is not of your concern. Now if you don’t have any more tantrums for me, let me get on with my day.” Finishing saying her piece, she made for the doorway to the hallway.