Thursday, April 12, 2007
Story With A Twist by Bianca
Freddie Jones had loved food from the minute he was born. It was his one passion, quite unusual for a young fellow his age though. During family gatherings or parties, he would always be involved in every aspect of the food, preparing it, cooking it, serving it. But Freddie never, ever ate what he prepared himself because he felt that it would ruin the relationship between his creation and he, built during the whole cooking process. No one understood this explanation but they accepted it. Weren’t geniuses always were a bit odd?
When Freddie was younger - maybe seven or eight years old - he and his twin brother, Frankie used to sit by the lake near his house. And a very pretty river it was. The river was in the midst of a jungle, pretty flowers surrounded it, big and leafy trees blocked out the sun’s rays, only letting a little light in through a small almost unnoticeable hole. They used to go there after school to swim in the summer, as it was unbearably humid. No one was quite sure what they did there, apart from taking a dip in the lake.
But then they started having less trips to the lake and fewer and fewer outings together. People used to say it was just an unavoidable phase they were going through, and that it will all pass over. But the thing was that after a year or two, it didn’t.
See, Freddie was known as the introvert whereas Frankie as the extrovert. Oh they both had impeccable manners but that was where the list of similarities ended. In school Frankie was the popular one, getting good grades, winning track competitions and basically succeeding.
While Freddie was just, Freddie and his food. He was a well-mannered boy with a good heart, never showed his temper and was always very obliging. But to his parents it just wasn’t enough. They constantly nagged and badgered him to be more, and compared him with his twin incessantly. It triggered destructive emotions within Freddie, jealousy was a major one. This was why they became strangers.
Freddie never was the strong type, he didn’t know how to handle the peer pressure and negative emotions he was feeling. So if there’s no one to compete with, wouldn’t there be no competition? Then he remembered the lake where he and his brother had spent most of their childhood at and how secluded and well hidden the place was. Freddie decided to invite his brother to spend some time with him there, it was after all their favorite place.
It was a weekday. Freddie’s mother and father were both at work. He had decided to stay home today instead of going to school. He spent the whole day thinking through his plan. And just as he was done, the front door slammed shut. Frankie’s head popped in, he asked, “Are you ready?” The answer came, “ I have been for a long time.” They had decided on doing some fishing today, a chance to have a little brotherly chat.
They looked normal and unmemorable when they strolled towards the lake. No one could have guessed anything was out of the ordinary. Once there in the middle of a jungle, Freddie felt wonderful. Not a sound could be heard when you’re inside the jungle. They started fishing. Frankie exclaimed, “ Oh my! I don’t believe it! I’ve caught a huge ‘un ‘ere!” Freddie said, “ Then haul it up, won’t you!” A bit of resentment was bubbling up within him, as he had always been the better one at fishing.
As Frankie was busy cleaning and wrapping the fish up to bring home, Freddie said in a tender voice, “Frank, I’m lucky to have you as a brother. You really are the best.” Frankie replied, “Same here.” As he turned around to face Freddie, he was met with a knife pointing straight at his heart. “ Goodbye.”
Frankie’s eyes were filled with a dismal, disappointed look as he lay lifeless on the soft grass. First Freddie pulled the knife out of his twin’s heart and began cutting and chopping. It was easy work, really. All he had to do was to imagine the corpse as a piece of food then he could chop. At first he had wanted to just leave the body here but the police would surely find it and the location of the corpse would undoubtedly be linked to Freddie. Once he finished chopping he began wrapping the pieces in plastic wrap. And when the last and most important step, to dispose of the gun was to be done. He looked around and saw the fish Frankie had caught. “Ah!” He said out loud, and stuffed the knife down its throat.
It was tea time by now. The evening market just five minutes away should have opened. People sold meat, vegetables, seafood and all sorts. One was bound to get splattered by blood there as many hawkers were roughly chopping up chickens. The stench there was quite like the one he had now. Perfect.
“Hello Mr. Warren.” Freddie greeted the hawker. “Oh hello Freddie. How are you? Would you like to buy some chicken?” Mr. Warren asked. He expected him at this time every Wednesday. Freddie always bought chicken and potatoes. But unusually Freddie replied politely, “Oh no thank you. I’ve got some meat already at home. Are your potatoes good today?”
“Oh yes. They always are Freddie. How many would you like?”
“About one kilogram should do it, Mr. Warren.”
“Alrighty. Anything else? Beans maybe? Or cabbage? It’ll go well with stew.”
“Okay then. That should be enough for Mum and Dad and Frankie.”
“Here you are.” Mr. Warren said. And Freddie went home to prepare dinner for his family. He loved cooking, especially when the ingredients were of the best quality.
When he got home, Freddie took out the ingredients carefully and began to prepare dinner. A delicious smell started to waft out from the kitchen. At that moment, Freddie’s parents were already fidgety and anxious as to where Frankie was. After half an hour of waiting, they decided to call the cops. By that time, Freddie’s mother was hysterical and had begun to wail.
When the cops arrived, they asked the whole family the standard questions for a missing persons investigation. Freddie said, “ Why don’t you stay for dinner? Empty stomachs won’t do any good to this investigation.” The food was ready yet no one – with the exception of Freddie – felt like eating. Soon everyone was tired and hungry, the smell of Freddie’s stew and his well-known culinary skills made the cops reluctantly agree to have some dinner.
“Ah, Mr. Jones! Your son here makes a delightful stew! Never have I tasted a stew better than my wife’s. Pray, what is your secret ingredient, Freddie?” praised the constable.
“Thank you but I’m terribly sorry, constable. A true chef never reveals his ingredients,” said Freddie modestly.
“Dear me! What has come over you Freddie? This is the first time you’ve eaten your own food,” exclaimed his mother.
“I’m just a little hungry today, Ma. I guess that’s why,” said Freddie, trying hard to conceal a girly giggle.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jones, we will continue searching for Frankie throughout the night and do whatever that is in our power to find him. But for now, it’s best that you all have a good night’s sleep. We will call if anything new comes up. G’d night,” said the constable. He and his officers trudged out with a few “thank yous” and “goodbyes”.
Freddie went upstairs to rest as today had been a very long day. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud when he heard his tummy gurgle.
love.Bianca
Fung says: omfg, this is disgusting!!!! *pukes*
Blogged
@ 9:22 PM
Don't let me go -
