Logs:Arroz con Pollo Heals All

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Cast

Spicy, her Touchstone

Setting

Soup Kitchen

Log

Spicy makes her way into the soup kitchen, a charity organization who provides dinner meals for people in need, probably located in a basement of a city-owned building of some kind. She pushes past the unlocked door, heading toward the back of the kitchen, holding her duffel bag over her shoulder. She leaves her bag in the manager's office, as usual, before putting on her apron and washing her hands.

She approach the actual kitchen area, seeing the old man there, she breathes just a little easier. "What's..." she loses focus mid sentence, pauses for just a touch too much, then proceed to complete the question "What's on the menu tonight? Need me to get anything from the freezer?"

When Spicy arrives, Guillermo is muttering flowery spanish while looking through the refrigerator. He pokes his head out when he hears her voice; his wrinkled face transforms into a veneer of joy, and he raises both arms. "Spicy! Hija, what a delight!" He kicks the door shut as he passes the fridge, doing some sort of salsa two-step on his way to his young friend. He's shorter than she is, stooped with age, but he throws both skinny arms around her anyway. He's dressed in his typical work slacks, the white apron that his wife washes, irons, and starches every night, and a fiercely pink t-shirt advocating for "The Pinkie Pies' soccer team.

Spicy's generally fairly cold and slow to warm up in social situation, but it's generally easy for Guillermo to just melt the ice get her to be social right away, tonight it takes him a few more dance step to get the smile and she dances with him, at last, even doing a surprisingly skillful spin when he inevitably get to that part of the dance. It's enough to make her laugh, she seems happy and surprised that she managed it at all! (2s to dance)

"I love the shirt, bright colors work well on you!" she comment, adjusting the shirt on his shoulders a little bit as it likely wrinkled during the dancing. she seems mildly confused by the soccer theme of the shirt and the pony-like design it seems to have.

He giggles merrily as she dances with him, clapping once when they're done. "Oh thank you, yes, it's for little Reyna's soccer team." He waves a hand, turning back to the stove and whatever heavenly witchcraft he's brewing there. "I enjoy going to her games. Ten four-year-olds all running around like kittens. I get to watch Renaldo try to herd them around," he cackles, clearly relishing watching his own son's torment. "How have you been, Mija?" He turns to his giant skillet, carefully turning and preparing some fragrant spanish rice. "I feel like it has been far too long since I've seen you!"

Spicy immediately begin the process of helping along, the very act of cooking brings satisfaction and teamworking in the kitchen is always an interesting dance. "Life's been ... rough. I came across a few people from back in Alaska." Not quite a truth, but it's close enough, she's not about to explain Arcadia to the poor old man. "I had to spend a few days holed up and feeling weird." More like, a week and a half really. "I'm sorry about that. It's always great coming over here." she brings him what he needs for his reciple and starts on the next step, wanting to have something ready for when the people first arrives.

Guillermo listens to Spicy unburden without speaking, nodding here and there. While she's talking, he sets out two plates; he piles rice on both, and then ladles a large helping of chicken strips, onions, mushrooms, and a red sauce. He tops both off with liberal cotija cheese, and then gestures to Spicy. He picks up one of the plates, tottering over to the small dining table set. "Come on. Everything is prepared for today. We'll eat together before the kitchen opens, and you can tell me your troubles. Come, mija," he adds, his tone gentle; his little face turns up in a broad, warm smile. "Let us see what we can do."

She takes the plate, then sets it down at the little table they have in the breakroom. Spicy sits heavily in the chair, watching the food fumes and letting her face get warm from hunching over it, as if it'd make the ice and cold melt off of her skin, off of her soul. "I met with people who I knew back in Alaska here, don't know why they're here. I just... I can't stop thinking about the messes that happened back there. I wasn't always the kind of girl to ...well, help people." she finally pick up a bit of food from the plate and eats it.

Guillermo eats while he listens, dosing his plate liberally with Cholula first. His bald head nods in time with what she's sharing. When he speaks, he gestures with his fork. "Have I ever told you about the time that I lived in Juarez, Mija?" He most certainly had not.

"You never mentioned that." Spicy keeps eating the plate, but it's slower, harder than usual. It's not a lack of appetite, she feels hunger coiling in the pit of her stomach, but getting the food down is just a touch harder. The heat and spice of it helps however.

"No, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckles; the sound is dry leather, a bitter rasp. He pokes at his plate with his fork, tongue rubbing against the outside of his molars. "I was young and foolish. Before I had Rosaria. It was a nice enough city, all things considered. Right on the border across from Texas. In those days, you could take a job doing...odd jobs, for all kinds of men." He takes a bite, considering it slowly. "All kinds of powerful men. Comprende, Mija?" He nods, as if she answered. "I worked for a very bad man. This man had a lot of money, and I thought - eh, I am not killing anyone. I am not hurting anyone. It is not my business, what people do." He makes a face at himself, flipping a hand back and forth. "I had all kinds of bull-shit excuses, Mija."

"I understand yeah." A deep breath, another bite from her plate, then another. Maybe now she's eating too fast. "You work for someone or you do things because the money comes in and you don't really want to see what happens around it. You want it to be just you, only you, because if you looks further then ... well , it's not just you anymore." she's not judging, in fact it looks like she realizes things they have in common.

"Si," he replies pleasantly, inclining his head to her. He takes a few more bites before continuing. "And then, I meet my Rosita, and..." He makes a whistling noise, making a chopping motion with one hand. "She nips that in the bud. She has saved - what would be seven hundred dollars in America. So, we come to America. We go to Los Angeles. There is a cooking school there. The first year, Rosaria and I meet to give a kiss between our different jobs. I work two jobs while in school, Rosaria works two jobs, and we make the ends come together. Then, I get my first job cooking, and then, people start noticing they like my food!" He chuckles a little. "But Los Angeles, there are many good Latino restaurants. So I ask Rosaria, 'Mi Corazon, where should we go to start a restaurant?' And she says, 'We should go to Philadelphia.' So we did." He takes another bite, shaking his head. "You know why she picked here? Because she saw it was on the cream cheese. She thought, for a cheese to be named for a city, it must be something."

Spicy chuckles a little and then it turns into a more hearty laugh, it doesn't last very long, but it's as loud as she usually get when laughing. "That story didn't go where I thought it would go, honestly. But Rosaria made a great choice there." she takes another bite off of her plate. "I imagine there's a lot of reason for them to have picked the city, don't know if it's the cream cheese though."

"Probably not. My point is, mija, we never know where life will take us. But, we have the greatest gift that can be given by God," he pauses, kissing the medal of the Virgin he wears around his neck. "We are human. The basis of humanity. We live, we love, we grieve, we fear, we hope, we do all of these things, and sometimes...eh! Maybe it makes no difference. But whether we like it or not, we keep moving forward on the river. These...pendejo from your past that have upset you so. Mija, leave them in the past where they belong." He sets down his fork to lean forward, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Promise me, si?"

Spicy for a split second almost promises, but remember the various lessons and stories she's heard about and she takes a deep breath. "Those that are the same kind of asshole that you mentioned? Sure I can promise that. Others are people I might want to make amends with, that feels like a better idea to me, I'm not exactly a saint in the story, but I can do better, I feel."

"Ahh, that is my clever girl," he boasts, winking at her; he leans forward to pinch her cheek. "Just do the best you can, where you are, with what you have. Never be satisfied, mija. You can always do better, and it usually costs nothing at all." He pats her cheek, then points to her plate. "Now eat. You look like a white girl left out to dry. All skin and bones! Eat!"

She chuckles and teases him right back "I think maybe you need glasses, I can bench press your car." but she does, indeed, finishes her plate when he asks her to, she's hungry after all. "Thanks for the pep talk Chef, that was really nice." she watches him return to the kitchen and rushes to finish her meal before going to the kitchen to help.

He chuckles as he washes his dishes, and then sings a cheerful song in loud, belted Spanish while they prepare for their guests.