The Cook

The blue white glow of the gas burner is central to the Cook's world. A world wholly crafted within the confines of his mother's house, narrower even than that: the back room, the kitchen.

The other denizens of this world - guests - huddle round the kitchen table covered in plastic baggies, lighters, spoons, pipes. A smokey stench permeates down into the foundation of the old row home. The fraying early 70s furnishings have long since given in to the activities of the kitchen, as has the ceiling and walls peeling paper, sweat and smoke. It can't be deodorized, fumigated, but there will be no such attempt: this ambiance is essential to the mood.

The Cook does his work at the burner alone. Bag to spoon over burner, powder bubbling to rock. His otherwise trembling hands steady in this endeavor, nimble fingers gingerly raising, then lowering the utensil over the heat. The others fixate on his mastery from the table, no one questions his craft, intervenes in his preparation. He is Emeril Lagasse, Wolfgang Puck. He is The Cook.

Beyond the burner's glow, the house remains bathed only in midnight's colors. Deep blue black shadows illuminate - quickly, a pulse - with flashes of the lighter, a flare of the pipe - rock softly crackling to smoke, inhaling: wwwoooowwww. Euphoria. Murmurs. One minute, two. Gone. Sad Shadows. Flash/flare, wow. Wonderment. Gone. Again. The Cook gently instructing his young charges: slow, slow down - never chase the flame. Disapproving glance, knowing mumble. The 'meal' is ruined with hasty consumption - savor, taste, let the flame chase you.

From the alley the kitchen window takes on the look of a lighthouse, the burner's steady glow punctuated by the table's periodic sweeping flashes. Wow, euphoria. Leading lost ships to its port for a price, fine dining on the edge of a rough sea. Cash or the raw ingredients gladly accepted. Absolutely no checks, cards or credit.

Sitting on the backyard trash can, a stray cat looks into the window transfixed, confused. Then jumps off and toward the Burger King parking lot down the way, more potential there for an understandable meal.