THE DIET

by Peg Ray

It was the time of the year that every tunnel citizen dreaded. Thankfully, the duration of the diet was usually short-lived. It depended solely on the willpower of the one who instigated the changes; the one who set the task upon himself to try and finally succeed in a lifelong battle. When Garfield said, “diet is die with a t”, he was accurate.

Father conducted annual physical exams of the entire community to ensure their health to the best of his abilities within the confines of the limited resources at hand. Although he could not include anything that required laboratory testing, he could weigh folks, listen to hearts and lungs, take blood pressures, temperatures, and interview the residents as to how they were sleeping, feeling, and their overall sense of wellbeing. Some of the tunnel citizens were more receptive to Father’s good intentions than others. 

The evaluations were scheduled over the course of a month to ensure that everyone had an opportunity for Father’s medical attention. The individual who dreaded the checkup more than anyone else was given the last appointment of this marathon so Father could gather his internal resources to deal with their petulant attitude.

“Well, that’s the last of them, Father, with the exception of you-know-who,” Mary said lightly as she made a checkmark on the appointment list. “Shall I go fetch him?”

Father took a deep breath and sighed. “We might as well get it over with, Mary. Please tell William it is his turn.”

Mary set down the clipboard and left the hospital chamber. On her way to the kitchen, she passed Sarah and Rebecca who were waiting in the hallway for her.  She smiled as she looked at them. “Are you ready?”

“Since lunch is going to be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I think we three can manage.” Sarah’s confidence in the team’s culinary skills shown through.

They all entered the kitchen where William was busy slicing bread. He looked up to see the arrivals, and a look of trepidation crossed his features. “I guess I know what this means.” He stepped away from the bread and handed the knife to Mary. “Make sure to slice the bread thin enough to make enough sandwiches to go around.”

The kitchen trio washed up and started preparing lunch. Their conversation was light and easy as they made the sandwiches.

William removed his apron and washed his hands. He left the kitchen like a man heading to his own execution. His head hung down and he studied the floor in front of his feet as he shuffled along. 

Father was standing by the scale when William finally entered the hospital chamber.  It was the beam type that used sliding weights to indicate the correct weight of the individual standing on the platform. Father slid the weights to the far-right maximum of 350 pounds before William even set foot onto the scale. The portly cook stepped up and the balance arm made the distinctive thunk sound of the beam hitting the metal at the top of the frame indicating that he weighed more than the scale’s capacity. 

William frowned and looked quickly at Father. “Wait a minute. Let me take off my boots and some of these layers.” His voice rumbled, and he was clearly unhappy. Father nodded, knowing full well that the few pounds represented by the discarded boots and tunnel garb would not be enough to get an accurate weight on the cook.

A partially disrobed and barefoot William stepped back onto the platform. The thunk repeated. Father rolled his eyes and pronounced “350 pounds” as the official weight he would record in William’s file. This was what he had done last year and all the years before that. William gratefully stepped off the scale and sat down to put on his socks and boots. When he had finished, he followed Father over to the exam table for the rest of the ordeal.

Father attached the blood pressure cuff and pumped it up. He listened carefully as the pressure released to get the reading. “It is 165 over 90. William, that is dangerously high… again. This combined with your weight puts your health in jeopardy. You know we have previously discussed your need to lower the salt and calories in your diet to improve your overall health. Do you think you will finally be able to follow through on this over the course of the next year?”

William bristled. He felt like he was being treated like a disobedient child. “As usual, I will give it a try, Father. But you have to get the community to support me. They always complain when I start cooking differently.” He was starting to let a whine creep into his voice.

Father knew exactly why the inhabitants of the tunnels complained. William stopped adding salt to the foods he prepared. He stopped tasting what he cooked so that any spices he used were often too little or on occasion too much. And he stopped making the comfort foods enjoyed by the community but that he himself found too tempting. In other words, the food he prepared during his dieting phase was very, very bland. If William couldn’t eat tasty food, it would not be prepared and offered to anyone else in the tunnels. 

Father sighed. “I will speak to the community and ask that they assist and support you in your efforts to improve your health. I will also put the word out to the Helpers, so no tempting treats are sent down.”

***

The first few days went without any pushback from the community as they had experienced it all before, and the salt shakers on the tables were readily passed around to everyone. After two days, salt had apparently disappeared from the kitchen since Mary was unable to find the box to refill the shakers on the dining room tables. 

Meals had always been simple based on the availability of supplies provided by the Helpers; however simple got a whole new twist at this time each year. Hard boiled eggs, plain toast, and unsalted oatmeal for breakfast were offered every day.  Lunch was light portions of baked meat with baked vegetables. Dinner was boiled meat and vegetables presented as a runny stew. No meals contained sauce, gravy, salt, pasta, rice, dumplings, or potatoes. Except for the day-old thrift store commercial loaves provided by the Helpers for the breakfast toast, bread was not even baked and offered for meals.

Since William avoided tasting the food while cooking, he was eating only the lean proteins and vegetables that were offered to the community. No choices for the community meant no choices to tempt William. That was the way he wanted it if he was to finally succeed.

***

Catherine had spent a leisurely Sunday Below with Vincent on the fifth day of the diet. Her stomach rumbled late in the afternoon, and she blushed. “Excuse me, please,” she softly offered.

His eyes twinkled in amusement as he asked, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask. William’s cooking is so much better than anything I would make at home.” She smiled. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

He debated about how much he should tell her but ultimately decided minimal information was best. “Tonight we are having chicken stew and peaches for dessert.

“That sounds wonderful. I don’t know why, but I always seem to work up an appetite while spending time in your world. Left on my own, I always forget about meals.” Her confession regarding missed dinners was unnecessary because he knew this to be true.

The couple went into the dining hall where Vincent ladled two servings of stew and peaches into the bowls on his tray. Catherine looked at the peaches and was surprised that they looked somewhat dry. She didn’t know that William had rinsed all the syrup off them.

She followed Vincent to sit at the table across from Father as he proceeded to place the contents on the tray in front of them.

William came out and tossed three boxes of stale saltine crackers onto the tables. He had missed these during his ransack of the cupboards to rid the kitchen of all carbohydrates. Catherine watched with incomprehension as the residents all scrambled to get their share of the crackers.

Catherine looked at the collection of vegetables in her bowl. She could identify mushy eggplant, cabbage, and onions in a thin broth. Nothing had been used to thicken the liquid to give the stew texture. There were also a couple of stringy pieces of what she assumed was chicken. Even if the name of the concoction was changed from stew to soup, it would be an insult to the word cuisine. She thought that things must be dire indeed if they were reduced to such simple fare. She decided to speak with Peter about having more money flow into the tunnel coffer to improve the food choices.

Catherine took a bite, and the bland offering assailed her tongue. She was unable to control her disgusted expression. This was not what she was expecting from William’s kitchen. She cast a glance around the table. Vincent quickly looked away and tried to hide a small smile. Everyone else suddenly looked down into their bowls as they consumed the soggy veggies without a word. In fact, the entire dining room was noticeably quiet. 

“Pass the salt, please,” Catherine sweetly asked of Vincent.

He obliged her by passing her the empty container. She excused herself and went to the kitchen to get it refilled. “Hi, William, would you please tell me where the salt is so that I may refill this shaker?” She knew William liked her, so she was unprepared for his gruff response.

William huffed. “We are all making a concerted effort here to reduce our salt consumption for health reasons, so NO! You may not refill the shaker!” His crabby tone and harsh words caught her totally off guard.

Catherine excused herself and left the kitchen a little hurt. Everyone heard the exchange and all eyes in the dining room were on her as she made her way back to the table beside Vincent. 

“Vincent, what is going on to make William so unhappy?” Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to make him angry.”

He gave her a small, apologetic smile. “Catherine, I’m sorry that I let you go ask for salt, but we were hoping that maybe you could pry some from his stores since he likes you. This happens every year after Father advises him to lose weight and limit his salt intake. Since he is the cook for the community, we all must endure this kind of cooking and his bad mood until he decides to give up on his diet. When William is on a diet… we are all on a diet.”

Cullen mumbled, “It’s like living with a bear that has been rudely roused out of hibernation.”

Father chimed in. “The longest that he has held out previously is eight days, so we have at least three more days to go. If he is to succeed longer, we have all agreed to hang in there with him so he can lose some weight. We really do try to support each other down here.”

Catherine admired the fortitude of the residents. “You really do have a wonderful family Below. People in my world would probably not be so tolerant.”

Father and Vincent smiled their approval of her statement.

***

After a brief stop in Vincent’s chamber to collect his cloak, the couple held hands as they quietly made their way to her building’s sub-basement. Catherine decided that she would not be dining in the tunnels anytime soon.

He gave her a long, gentle hug and kissed the top of her head before he let her go. “Wish us all well over the next coming days.”

She laughed before she turned to walk to the ladder. “I’m going to go grab a salty snack from my pantry. Want to join me?”

He tilted his head slightly as he paused to consider her offer. “As much as I would like to spend more time in your company, I must decline because I have an early work call in the morning… with Mouse. He is anxious for my help on his new project, and I don’t want it to get out of hand right at the beginning.” He shrugged his apology.

“I understand.” She could not resist moving back into his arms for one last hug.

They lingered for a few minutes before she reluctantly left his embrace and smiled all the love in her heart at him.

“Be well, Vincent.”

“And you, Catherine.”

She stepped through the light that took her back into her world.

***

Catherine thought about what she might be able to do to help the community bear up under the current kitchen regimen. She remembered that the shop where she bought groceries sold prefilled, disposable salt shakers, so she purchased a dozen.

She sent a note via Benny asking Vincent to meet her at the threshold Monday evening around ten pm. When she arrived carrying a small shopping bag, he gave her a quizzical look.

“What is in the bag, Catherine? You look… somewhat guilty.”  Vincent’s eyes contained his smile.

“They’re salt shakers that actually contain salt. I thought you could covertly pass them around the table during meals to at least make what you have to eat a little more palatable.” Catherine grinned as Vincent softly chuckled. “It’s the least I could do to help you all while this diet continues. I wish I could do more.”

“Well, you could share evening meals with us. Misery loves company, Catherine.”  Vincent’s voice reflected the humor he intended.

“Thank you, but no, Vincent. I have late nights this week so I will be unavailable during the scheduled dinner time. The salt will have to attend in my absence.” Catherine reached out to hug him.

They chatted for a few minutes about their respective days, and then Catherine had to go back to her apartment to finish the workload she had carted home. Before they parted, they spent a few moments soaking in the mutual support garnered by the cocooned hug enfolding them.

Vincent watched her disappear into the light that divided their worlds before he hid the salt in the pockets of his cloak. He made his way back to his chamber and thought about how he could disperse the shakers at mealtimes without William noticing. He decided that he would use his students to accomplish the deed, starting with lunch the next day.

***

At the end of each of his morning classes, Vincent asked a few selected students to stay behind for a special assignment. Each of the students was given a salt shaker with the instructions to sit at different tables and pass the salt under the table to the person sitting next to them for use when William was in the kitchen and not looking.

Vincent took the time to explain the meaning of “surreptitiously” as a vocabulary lesson. He also explained that this action was not meant to circumvent William’s diet, but to make it easier for the tunnel family to accept the bland food during this time. The children were all on board for their part in this endeavor.

***

The first meal after the salt shakers were distributed went on without a hitch. The second meal in the evening was not as successful. Eric was sitting at the end of a table and waiting for Samantha to pass the salt to him. He missed the transfer, fumbled with both hands, and put a spin on the shaker before it hit the floor. It rolled towards where William had just entered the dining room to see how the meal was going and stopped within inches of the burly cook’s feet.

William stooped down and picked up the shaker. When he identified what it was, he bellowed, “What’s this? Who is trying to undermine my diet? Who is the traitor?”

The silence in the room was deafening. Eric squirmed in his seat and looked down at his plate. No one else was saying anything and all the eating had ceased for the moment. Everyone held their breath.

William proceeded to stomp to where Father was sitting and glowered at him. “Again I ask, who is responsible for this?”

Before Father could speak, all residents raised their hands to indicate their responsibility for the salt that William saw as a traitorous move. Everyone turned to look at William.

Vincent elected himself as spokesperson. “We are all in support of your efforts, William, but we thought we would be of more support if we could add salt to the meals to make following this diet a little more palatable and allow us to continue. We apologize if this has made you uncomfortable.”

William made a growling sound as he stormed off into the kitchen. His feelings were hurt by the betrayal, and he took it out on the kitchen crew that was assigned cleanup after the meal. Though his quick temper was legendary in the tunnels, he found it impossible to stay angry for very long.

Vincent collected the remaining shakers at the end of the meal, and the consensus of the residents was that they would not continue using the salt but simply endure the bland meals until William decided his diet was over. After all, the diet couldn’t last much longer, could it? Vincent informed William of their decision the following morning and gave him custody of all the salt. 

***

As it turned out, William’s willpower lasted three weeks and four days. This was a record. The end of the diet was determined by the success that he found on the scale. He sneaked into the hospital chamber after dinner had been served, and cleanup was completed. He slowly approached the scale like he was facing an enemy. He put his hands on his hips and glowered at the device for a minute before setting the weights on the beam at the 350-pound maximum.

He cautiously stepped up onto the platform. The beam remained at the bottom of the balance frame, and the silence in the empty chamber was eerily more disconcerting to him than the expected thunk. He slowly realized that the weight on the scale beam needed to be moved to the left. That meant he weighed less than 350 pounds! He gently started nudging the one-pound weight until the beam balanced in the center. The device indicated he now weighed 344 pounds with his boots and all the layers of his clothing. 

He was elated. This type of success was meant to be celebrated. He couldn’t wait to return to cooking as it was meant to be. He decided to immediately return to the kitchen, fill the salt shakers, and place them on the tables. He made a trip down to the stores of forbidden foods he had stashed. He’d let his blood pressure be damned without even asking Father to check it. He knew if Father was really concerned, there were pills to deal with that sort of condition.

***

The following morning the tunnel residents were treated to a breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese, hash browns, sausage, and homemade bread toast with butter.     

“Well, Mary, it seems as if we have survived another round of the diet. I will need to check William’s blood pressure once more and I will put him on medication if needed so we can put this behind us for another year.” Father’s concern for William was still present. He continued to eat the hearty breakfast.

“You’ll have to ask him what victory made him determine that the diet has ended for now.” Mary knew that his curiosity would need to be satiated.

He noticed the enigmatic expression on his son’s face and broke into his thoughts. “Vincent, what are you thinking?”

“I was just imagining how nice it will be to have Catherine join us for meals again, Father.” He noticed the flash of concern that crossed the old man’s face. Vincent let his eyes smile.

When there was no verbal objection forthcoming, he knew that Father was beginning to accept the inevitable presence of Catherine in his life.

The residents were enthusiastically consuming the first tasty meal they had been offered in weeks. Murmurs of appreciation were heard throughout the dining hall as a collective sigh of relief settled over the room. Meals would be palatable again for another eleven months.