Assault on the Galley

The twins saw it, too.  Gerhardt had promised to make them crossbows as well, if they would obtain marshmallows for him.

“Why don’t you get them yourself?” asked Mirabelle.

“I don’t think Chef likes me.”

“Chef hates all us children,” answered Annabelle.  “That’s why any sensible person would sneak into the Galley and nick what they wanted while he’s napping.  He always naps after lunch.”

“But that’s stealing,” Gerhardt said.

“It’s not!” protested Annabelle.  “It’s our food.”

“We’ll go, Faintheart, we’re not bothered!” Mirabelle laughed.

As the girls flounced down the passage toward the galley stair, Gerhardt hit her on the back with a wad of paper shot with his new bow.  She didn’t feel it, but he nodded in satisfaction, nevertheless.

So Mirabelle and Annabelle were creeping quietly down the Galley stair, which was really more of a ladder, when they saw it.  The Galley stair was enclosed only in leather and isinglass, so it could be detached from the main ship in case of fire.  It was a short, cold trip, but the girls had learned from experience to tread softly as they entered Chef’s domain.  The isinglass made the white and grey world outside blur, but the twins were most observant, and likely to notice movement in any landscape.

They froze, figuratively, on the narrow stair, and peered into the snow below.

“Is it a man?” asked Mirabelle, just as Annabelle said, “Is it a bear?”

They watched it, whatever it was, glide over the snow-covered scree as though the rubble were a ballroom floor, until they could no longer see it.

“Did it go somewhere, or just disappear?” Annabelle whispered.

“I couldn’t tell.  It was hard to keep in my eye, even though I knew it was there,” her twin responded.  “If I did know it was there.”

“Finish the mission, then we’ll investigate.”

The girls had been sneaking in and out of the kitchen since infancy, not only for snacks and laboratory supplies, but to harass their enemy, the Chef.  Their animosity had been growing for years, its origin lost to time.   When they were younger, the twins mounted most of their assaults from the dumb waiter, but now they could only fit in one at a time.

Spying Chef asleep by the stove, the girls made their way across the galley ceiling, hanging from the pot and pan hooks.  Although this method was a bit rattley, as Annabelle often observed, “no one ever looks up”, so even if Chef woke they had a good chance of getting away.  It was harder than usual to keep quiet, because the airship was moored.  When under way the movement of the ship kept the pans rattling on their own, giving the children excellent cover, but now all was still, with shifts in the wind moving the ship to and fro, and causing sudden bouts of pan rattling.  Conditions were difficult, but the twins loved a challenge.

The larder, instead of being a separate room (as Chef insisted it would be in a kitchen “civilizes”), was floor to ceiling wooden shelves fitted with wire mesh doors to keep food from flying out during turbulence.  Mirabelle, in the lead, reached out for the hook that would bring her closest to the marshmallow tin, but it was not there!

Momentum carried her back, and she swung into Annabelle, who had a tenuous grip on a small copper saucepan.  The pan flew off the hook, and Annabelle flew with it.  She flipped in mid-air and landed on her feet, not 3 feet from Chef, who woke with a shout, his hand on his heart.  Annabelle whipped the saucepan behind her back and curtsied.  Mirabelle dropped to the ground, silent as a cat.

This story began with On Grandmothers.  The last episode was In Search of Ancient Angiosperms and the next is The Sorrows of Chef.