“Thanks, Maisey,” Alan Carter said with a grin and a wink. “Looks good.”
Maisey just about dropped the spoon and she flushed red. Good thing was, with the warmth of the serving cart in front of her, her face was already flushed. But this felt completely different. Mr. Carter appeared not to notice, of course.
Juanita dumped another tub of something resembling mashed potatoes into the tray in front of her. “Now you just go on, girl,” Juanita said under her breath so no one else could hear. She took the spoon from Maisey’s limp hand and scraped the edges of the tub, looking up to flash a wide grin to the next few people in line. “Only be a second folks.”
Bill Fraser and two other pilots nodded, barely hearing her as they carried on their own conversation. Mr. Carter had moved on and was now selecting a drink. Juanita was still mumbling in Maisey’s ear. “Ain’t no use you even lookin, girl cause he sure ain’t interested in the likes of you. So don’t you even be thinkin’ ‘bout messin’ with him.” With a toss of her black braids she was gone.
Maisey nodded silently and the line began moving again. She passed out mashed potatoes and peas and broccoli and carrots and rice and tried to offer that stir-fry thing Dr. Goldberg had invented. No one wanted to try that and she was getting a little desperate. Dr. Goldberg didn’t hold with leftovers. Suddenly Dr. Goldberg appeared at her elbow. Dr. Russell was standing in front of her with a salad on her tray. Dr. Goldberg reached over and took the salad and replaced it with a heaping plate of the stirfry.
“Kate!” Dr. Russell said with exasperation.
“You need the protein, Helena,” Kate Goldberg said. “Don’t argue with me.
Dr. Russell was a tiny pretty woman and she frequently ate at odd times and very little. She was a special friend of Dr. Goldberg, who looked after her like a mother hen.
Right behind Dr. Russell in the line was the Commander. He was tall and dark and could be fierce or friendly depending on his mood. More and more lately he would be in line with Dr. Russell and Maisey had the notion that they were both enjoying each other’s company.
Dr. Goldberg quickly put the salad on the Commander’s plate and gave him that drop dead glare that always made Maisey feel like she’d been de-boned like a chicken breast. “Don’t you argue either. And don’t trade.”
It didn’t sound like the way to talk to your commanding officer. They made you do pushups and clean nasty things if you did that in boot camp. But Dr. Goldberg got away with it. The Commander began to cloud up like the worst kind of summer storm brewing. Then Dr. Russell did something Maisey couldn’t remember ever seeing her do. She laughed.
Maisey knew Dr. Russell was always busy and worked hard healing people and everything, but she always seemed real serious-like and just a little bit sad. Sometimes she’d come and talk to Dr. Goldberg in her office on account of their being friends and all, but they didn’t laugh much. Not like she and Juanita did when they were cutting up. But right now, Dr. Russell was laughing soft-like. She leaned her shoulder against the Commander and cut her eyes up at him. “All right Kate, we’ll behave.”
Dr. Goldberg made a harumphing noise and vanished as Dr. Russell and Commander Koenig moved off. None of them paid any attention to Maisey, as usual. With her plain looks, pale skin and straight mousy brown hair tucked into her hair net, it was like she was invisible to everyone else.
Despite shortages and the ways they had to improvise with the food-stuffs, life went on pretty much as usual for Maisey. She worked lunch and dinner shifts, following Juanita’s directions for prepping and set-up, then cleaned up after each meal, first washing down the kitchen, then the dining room. Then she slept and got up and worked again. Sometimes she and Juanita would cook up some puffed rice and make a crunchy snack using a bit of corn syrup to make it sweet and call up a movie from Alpha’s library, and they’d sit together and watch it. Maisey liked comedies. Juanita liked scary movies. So they took turns doing the choosing. Once she went to a basketball game in the gym, or part of one. She got to go after she had cleaned up for the night.
Sometimes there were problems on Alpha, but Maisey’s life was well removed from all that. They had to evacuate to the deep shelters once, and sometimes alarms would go off, but for the most part Maisey took no notice. No matter what was happening, everyone still needed to eat.
Late one night, Maisey was cleaning up the dining hall. She was a lot later than usual. Something must have been going on because people rushed in for food, or sent someone in to pick up trays. Then, just at dinnertime, no one came in at all. Alarms went off, and Security was ordered to Main Mission, then nothing. Dr. Goldberg wasn’t happy, but she stayed quiet and stayed in her office. Maisey and Juanita and the rest of the staff kept the food warm as best they could and waited. It was two hours later before anyone showed up for dinner. The food they served wasn’t particularly good-looking hours before, but no one was complaining.
Mr. Carter was one of the last to arrive. He looked pale and shaken and he had a bandage on his forehead. Maisey made sure to give him the best food she had left. Juanita had a whispered conversation with some of the Main Mission staff, and she didn’t even glare at Maisey. In fact, she slid an extra piece of pie on Mr. Carter’s plate herself. He barely noticed.
When the subdued rush cleared out and the kitchen was clean Maisey headed for the dining room. She was surprised to find Mr. Carter still sitting at the table by the window, alone, his food barely touched. She started at the other side of the room from where he was sitting. She scrubbed tables and straightened and soon was humming softly, as she usually did when she worked. She made sure each table and the molded plastic chairs were shining like new before she moved on to the next set. She thought they were pretty when they were all cleaned up and neatly lined up. She thought Alpha was one of the prettiest places she had ever worked.
She worked her way across the room. It wasn’t unusual for there to be one or two people still sitting at a table while she worked, but they usually ignored her. This time, when her cleaning brought her closer to Mr. Carter, she noticed that he was watching her. She looked up and smiled at him as she moved to the table next to him. He smiled back and looked out the window.
“You always look so happy, Maisey. Aren’t you ever homesick?”
“Homesick? Naw. Alpha’s a much nicer place than where I come from.”
“Where are you from?”
No one had ever asked her that before. “Macon, Georgia,” she answered.
“You didn’t like it there?”
“Well, Macon itself is okay, if you know what I mean. But the trailer park where my grandma raised me wasn’t for much. It was like livin’ in a tin can, hot in the summer, cold in the winter. Not that I’m complainin’, mind you. It was better than some of those foster homes before she took me in. Or the time I spent with my stepfather,” Maisey shuddered, despite herself. She didn’t like thinking about that.
“How did you end up on Alpha?” Carter asked quietly, listlessly. She wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but when she hesitated he looked back at her, waiting for an answer.
“Well, me and Juanita went to high school together. Juanita lived over in the projects, with a whole passle of brothers and sisters, not to mention the roaches and the drive-bys. So she’d come over by me and we’d work on our homework together and things. Juanita was the one who thought we ought to take those army tests. She said we could get somewhere, and see the world and all. The next thing I knew we was graduated from high school and these marine guys was taking us up to South Carolina and Paris Island. I ain’t never been out of Macon County before, and there I was in another state! Then when we went to cook school, we were still together. As long as you do well in those schools you get to pick your assignment you know. So Juanita and I just kept working real hard and Juanita would pick the next place we were gonna go. And then we ended up here.” Maisey stopped and looked around the dining room. “Don’t you think this is just about the prettiest dining hall you ever did see?”
Mr. Carter glanced around the dining room and then back out the window. Maisey had her back to the window as usual. “And your family? Friends?”
“Well, my grandma, she passed on while we was working in the Middle East. They even flew me home for the funeral and all. I thought that was real nice of them. And Juanita, she’s been just about the best friend anyone could ever have. She always promised my grandma she’d look out after me, and she always has. I like working someplace nice, and having someplace nice to sleep and good food to eat. You just don’t know how tiring peanut butter can get that week before the social security check comes in. And there aren’t those awful humid summers where you just don’t want to move. Alpha, it’s a real nice place to work.”
Mr. Carter managed a smile, his eyes still on the stark gray and black view out the window. Dr. Goldberg came bustling out of the kitchen area.
“Maisey? Aren’t you through out here yet?”
“Just about Doctor Goldberg, ma’am.” She turned and smiled at Mr. Carter. “I was just about to get Mr. Carter’s tray for him.”
He pushed the tray toward her and she lifted it with one hand, shining the table with the rag in her other hand.
“Good night,” she said with a smile to the other two, and headed off toward the kitchen.
“Good night, Maisey,” Mr. Carter called after her.
Maisey heard Dr. Goldberg say to Mr. Carter. “You look like you could use some rest. You’ve had a hard day.”
Mr. Carter stood slowly and smiled. “I think that depends on your point of view, Kate.”
As Maisey entered the kitchen she saw that Mr. Carter was leaving the dining room with a much lighter step. By the time he got to the door, he was whistling. It was nice how he was always so cheery and all. It was obvious to Maisey that all he needed was a good home-cooked meal. She’d make sure he got something special tomorrow. Juanita couldn’t object to that.
Ellen Lindow
October, 2000