Appeeling kitchen hand

Posted on Tue Feb 11th, 2025 @ 14:15 by Valjean Beaumont & Jacqueline Myers

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Kitchen, Avalon Institute
Timeline: Saturday, 6th February, 1993
2021 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

As the lunch wound down Valjean always had a small bit of respite before having to jump into the dinner rush. His duplicates all made their way over to him and he merged back into a single person. Ever since the surge around Halloween there were small wisps of memories and experiences that seemed to transfer from his clones to him. Nothing useful, mind, but it was always a bit disorienting. He sat down at the Chef's table with his own plate of lunch before looking over at his recurring guest. "Bon appetite." She had already been offered the lunch but since he was just sitting down it still felt appropriate.

Jackie did her best to hide her amazement as she watched the merging of Valjean, it wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed it but every time it was still wondrous. “Merci Chef.” She answered quietly picking up her cutlery. There were the odd bits of French she’d picked up over the last few days. She couldn’t string together a sentence but it was a start. “I appreciate you letting me sit in with you. All the noises and people are getting more bearable now.”

Unlike the overwhelming choice from her first visit all those days ago breakfast, a single set meal felt like less of a challenge. The choice hadn’t been as plentiful as many would have thought, but it was enough to have made her feel on edge. Having any choice at all was a privilege that she’d not had access to for some time. After her chat with Claire, she’d taken the opportunity to start cleaning the greenhouse to take advantage of her skills. She’d need a few supplies from the kitchen to be able to show her appreciation in return.

"Zhis is good to hear." He quickly made work of the sandwich he had cobbled together for himself. With a thick omelette, some cheese and ham between the slices. "Still I miss zhe baguette of my motherland." He sighed and took a large bite, looking at Jacqueline to try and assess exactly what type of approach she might need from him.

“You know when you’re prepping things? Could you perhaps save me some seeds, please?” Jackie sounded hopeful but she felt a further explanation might be needed, “I want to try and plant some vegetables because I know supplies are tight.” For a majority of the time her powers were reactionary, only in times of dire need did they show much above blooming flowers or causing plants to bend with the need. “I’d like to help.”

"Bon." With that offer Valjean got up and moved to the back of the kitchen where he picked up a large burlap sack of potatoes, a bin for the peels and larger than your average pan for the peeled product. "You get started with zhis." With a flourish he produced a small knife. "Do not peel to thick, cut the potatoes in even sizes, take off any dark green or black spots."

The woman smiled and looked confused as the chef got to his feet to return with the assortment of items. Jackie’s smile widened, she’d hinted at a few jobs around the institute and had been casually rebuffed. “Thank you.” She accepted the knife and moved her finished plate aside to begin her work.

Retrieving a potato she held it firmly, the knots and bumps didn’t seem so complicated. “I don’t remember the last time I did this …” She quietly admitted. It would have likely been at home to pair with some sausages from the butcher. Carefully she picked up the knife and leant toward the bin, dragging the flat of the blade slowly across the tuber’s surface. A determined look of concentration as it skipped a patch before sinking deeper than it should have.

With everything offered to Jacqueline, Valjean could return to his seat and finish his sandwich. He tried not to judge or look to closely but when a big chunk of potato was the victim of careless peeling he nearly choked in his sandwich. "Jacqueline, non! Autant me planter un couteau dans le cœur!" He put his sandwich back on his plate and motioned for her to give him the knife, grabbing a potato from the bag himself.

"Écoute-moi bien, oui?" He calmed down enough to continue in English, "You must 'old ze knife like you would a trowel in ze garden—lightly, but wiz control, eh? Peel in long, smooz strokes, you are not tearing out weeds, non! You are turning ze soil around a delicate flower. removing only ze skin." He finished his potato with the thinnest of skin, still in one long ribbon. He showed the peeled procut "Imagine ze potato is a treasure, eh?" He cut it in half "And every bit you waste—mon dieu!—it is like trowing away ze gold!" Then halved again. "Precision, Jacqueline, précision!"

His torrent of words battered her with urgency, she picked out listen and then nodded quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jackie apologised the pained dismay flushing her cheeks. “I’m trying but my hands, they aren’t what they used to be.” She flexed her gnarled fingers, “I’m used to chainsaws and shovels, not fine dining.” A slow deep breath was taken before she made another attempt on her prized potato, the last thing she wanted was for him to inhale his sandwich and need the Heimlich manoeuvre.

A treasured potato is a delicate flower. The position of the knife shifted in her hand to better sit in the crease of her finger, and the angle of the blade lowered to stop jagged gouges. “Prized potato with peels as thin as paper.” She mumbled to herself with another slow sweep down its length. “Better?” It wasn’t a single sweeping tendril but it was a better start than the last attempt.

"Oui, tres bon." It was still not as clean a cut as he would make himself, but this actually freed one of himself up for other work. It added efficiency to other parts of the process of preparing dinner. Valjean was starting to consider what to do with that extra time as he continued to eat his sandwich. "Pardon, le hands, are zhey because of your mutation?"

With slow and careful turns she continued to peel. It had almost been a week since she had arrived in Avalon perhaps a week before that she had found her freedom. It was her right hand that had suffered the most the tip of her little finger was dull and more bulbous, down to the first knuckle looked to have an awkward joint, with the index finger having both knuckles swollen and slightly disjointed. To most, it looked like osteoarthritis, swollen and severe for someone her age.

“I guess it is.” Jackie stopped peeling a moment and stretched out her hand, flexing her fingers. “I was tested to see what my abilities could do.” She briefly met his gaze before going back to work. It was agony at the time, she’d never felt as much pain as she had during her time there. “I can heal myself, faster than a normal person.” He was eating and didn’t want to put him off his food. This was best saved for the counsellor’s office perhaps.

Valjean didn't want to pry any further on that particular topic. There had always been rumours and talk about clandestine organisations experimenting on Mutants. Ghost stories, mostly, things to be told around a campfire. Nothing legitimate ever really came from it. It seemed there was a kernel of truth to the stories, at least in Jacqueline's case. "You are a quick learner, I'll have you making souffle in no time." He tried to divert the attention away from what was surely a difficult topic.

“I liked cooking. Maybe not souffle, but I make a good shortbread.” Jackie smiled as she continued to work her way around the potato, pleased that she’d not given the Chef any more cause for concern. “We didn’t have mains electricity in the Bothy, just a little generator, woodstove and gas heater when it was really cold.” Her lips pinched at the memory and she picked up another potato. “Did you always know you wanted to be a Chef?”

Valjean shook his head, there was way too much to unpack in that question, "Non, I aspired to other things while being taught." It wasn't until he got to Wakefield and realised he had fucked up royally that it dawned on him that there was no such thing as a quick buck. His so called friends had ran the moment everything went south, and if it hadn't been for legal representation from one of the pro-mutant advocacy groups he still would've been in Wakefield. He couldn't really return the question, knowing a bit of where she had come from. "So often It is not a profession that you choose, but that chooses you."

Jackie nodded softly as she listened, her gaze fixed on the potato in her hands, turning it to check for any missed spots. “I kind of just floated until I found something that felt right. The Forestry Commission seemed like the perfect fit, until it wasn’t.” She added the potato to the pot and reached for another, carefully removing its eyes with the knife’s tip. “Maybe, when things settle down, I can get back to that.” Her movements slowed for a moment as she glanced up. “Have you been out since the barricade went up?”

"Out? Of zhe building?" It was a bit of an odd question, if she meant out in the courtyard, then of course he had been outside. If nothing else he still had to bring stuff to the bins. If she had meant outside of the castle walls, then of course not because as she just said herself there was a barricade to prevent just such a thing. "Mais, Oui, of course. I go outside."

“I meant out, out.” Jackie explained with a knowing look at her potato. Part of her felt a little captive, but not to the extreme she was used to. However, it was enough to make her feel on edge. There were things she wanted to do outside to maybe help her answer questions and regain her freedom outside of borrowing clothes. Her gaze shifted briefly to the Chef with a shrug of her shoulders, “I didn’t expect to be contained but free at the same time.”

Valjean nodded at that, it had been some time since he had been incarcerated but the feeling was a familiar one. "Unfortunately there's nothing to be done. We wait for the government to regain their senses, leave our doorstep, and bring Claire back to us."

She had noticed a look he’d given her when she’d first arrived in his kitchen, it appeared again. A strange understanding. Jackie wouldn’t press, it was hard to talk about, especially over a sandwich. “That might be a long time … but I hope it's not.” She examined her potato being adding it to the pot. “Can I do this every day if you don’t mind sharing the work?” It seemed trivial but it gave her a purpose, even if it was only potatoes.

Normally Valjean wouldn't want strangers in his kitchen, especially at a time like this. But he recognised that the need of Jackie to have company in a controlled and quiet environment was stronger than his need for control and efficiency over the kitchen and food prep. He did make a note to dive back into his cookbooks and find a way to use the way too thickly sliced potato peels. "So long as the situation is unchanged, you are welcome 'ere." He took the peeled potatoes and the bin with peels and started the process of preparing the meal. "Now, go and mingle. Get some fresh air."