I had no idea what Machuee… whatever, was, but I was honestly afraid of upsetting Micah again, so I simply grunted, “Uh huh” and left it at that. Or so I thought.
She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. Actually, it was more like she was looking threw me.
“Al-ben no like Machewie?” she said, as if she had just read my mind.
I shrugged, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are asking me.”
“Machewie! Machewie!” she said.
I simply shook my head to indicate, that I still didn’t understand.
Frustrated she threw down the towel she was using to dry that same copper pot and crossed the kitchen. She pulled open an enormous stainless steel refrigerator door and pulled out, what I recognized as the leftovers of that fish we’d had.
“Oh that’s, uh.” I started to say.
“Machewie!” she said for me and motioned with one hand as if presenting to me a king’s ransom.
She smiled at me while holding it out, as though she wanted me to eat more of it.
I smiled back and decided in that instant, to tell her the truth, “Um, if I tell you that I didn’t like it, are you going to kill me, like you said before?”
Oh, she thought that was so funny and laughed loudly again. She then reached under the plastic wrap, picked off a large chunk of the fish and then popped it into her mouth.
“Mmmm!” she said.
I shook my head as I said, “Yuck!”
“What Al-ben like then?” she asked me.
“Well, pizza, spaghetti, chili, corn-dogs and stuff like that.” I said honestly.
She looked at me kind of funny like and then said, “I bet, Micah know what Al-ben like.”
After returning the fish to the refrigerator, she pulled out a large blue clay bowl that looked like it had been hand made.
“What’s that?” I asked with a hint of anxiety, in my voice.
“Oh, Al-ben taste first then Micah tell Al-ben.” She said coyly.
I groaned, “Do I have to?”
Micah looked hurt.
“Oh okay, but you have to promise not to hit me with a pan, or anything else, if I spit it out.” I said, trying to inject some humor. Thankfully, Micah laughed again, as she stuck a big wooden spoon into the bowl and scooped out a healthy portion. Whatever it was, it was brown and goopy, with chunks of something.
“Open!” she instructed and I hesitantly parted my lips, to allow her to insert the jiggling brown lump.
“HEY!” I exclaimed, “Now that’s good stuff!”
It tasted a bit like a chilidog, but different too.
“See! Micah not such bad chef after all, huh?” she said.
“No way, that was really good.” I said, licking my lips.