By Hailey Huntington
Let the stars be my witnesses: I, Kepler, would do everything in my power to get a waffle.
The sweet, cinnamony scent of the breakfast delicacy wafted through the starship’s hallways and down to my workstation. Ever since Aurora had joined our motley crew, I’d enjoyed the immense pleasure of taste-testing every culinary delight she could dream up. Sure, it meant snacking more than was probably good for me, but at eighteen I figured I could still play the “growing teenage boy” card.
My fingers stilled on the keyboard as I breathed in the mouth-watering smell. I didn’t know what spice blend Aurora used, but it was a little bit of heaven on earth.
Aurora was in a cooking frenzy today. Too bad I’d been kicked out of the kitchen. She’d caught me snitching two handfuls of cookies earlier, and I’d been banished.
She didn’t make me give back the cookies though, so that was a plus. I scraped the remaining crumbs off my desk and dumped them into my mouth. Chocolatey, minty goodness bloomed across my tastebuds. My stomach growled.
Yup. I needed a snack. And a waffle packed with spicy cinnamon and ginger sounded like the perfect choice. I’d just have to get Aurora out of the kitchen.
Brushing cookie remnants off my fingers, I pulled up the ship layout on my holo-screen. With a swipe, I zoomed in on the kitchen. Numbers flashed on the side of the glowing kitchen outline, telling me what temperature the ovens were, how much electricity was being used, and how many timers Aurora had running. None of that mattered to me—I didn’t cook. But I sure did love the results.
Tampering with the ovens wouldn’t work—it wouldn’t do any good to burn whatever Aurora was baking. My palate, unrefined though it was, couldn’t handle something charred to a carbon crisp. Thank goodness Atlas—our fearless leader—no longer cooked. For all of Atlas’s genius moments, he was a nightmare in the kitchen.
My stomach rumbled again. If I didn’t get a snack soon, I’d grow faint with hunger. I wouldn’t be able to think straight. I needed sustenance.
I drummed my finger against my leg. This was Aurora I was dealing with, not some evil mastermind with a massive security system. Something simple should get her out of the kitchen.
With a tap on the screen, I pulled up the kitchen camera feed. Aurora stirred a bowl of batter with one hand and took a fresh batch of waffles off the griddle with the other. I could see them steaming. I needed to act now.
My gaze flickered back to the side of the screen. Illuminated buttons and gauges shone temptingly. My eyes landed on the power dial for the kitchen.
Aurora had a plethora of kitchen appliances plugged in. While she wasn’t close to blowing the fuses, it wouldn’t appear suspicious if it happened.
I grinned, the plan coming together. If I temporarily cut the power to the kitchen and made it seem like the fuses had blown, Aurora would leave the kitchen and hunt down the fuse box. That would give me the perfect window of opportunity.
The waffles sang their siren song through the screen. I cranked the dial and my fingers flew across the keyboard.
The kitchen went dark on the video feed, and I counted to thirty, giving Aurora time to leave, before restoring the power. Spinning out of my chair, I darted toward the kitchen.
I skidded into the room a moment later. Aurora was nowhere to be seen. Hurrying around tables covered with bowls and utensils, I halted in front of the plate of waffles. Why stop at just one? Why not take them all? I could eat the entire plate before Aurora hunted me down.
My pulse pounded from my rapid sprint to the kitchen. It was time to go eat my carbohydrate goodness somewhere peaceful. But I needed a taste right now.
The outside of the waffle was warm and crispy, just the way I liked it. Grinning, I folded it in half and shoved it into my mouth.
A bitter, acrid flavor filled my mouth, clinging to my tongue like it was trying to dissolve my taste buds. I dropped the waffles. What in the galaxy was wrong with these?
Grimacing, I held back a gag and forced myself to swallow. The taste was almost caustic. Water. I needed something to get that awful taste out of my mouth. I darted toward the sink, sticking my face beneath the faucet.
Someone cleared their throat.
Flushing, I looked up. Aurora stood above me, looking down with one eyebrow raised and the plate of waffles in her hand. She’d made it to the fuse box and back way faster than I’d thought she would.
I swallowed, wincing at the lingering flavor tainting my tastebuds. “Umm. Aurora. The waffles—”
“Are what I get for letting Atlas try to ‘help’ me. I have never seen someone confuse baking powder and flour before.” Aurora set down the waffles, a smile tugging at her lips. “I guess my hunch that you’d sneak back here was right. That’s why I cooked them up anyway.”
She had deliberately sabotaged me?
My face burned as I slowly straightened. “There really isn’t a good way for me to get out of this, is there?”
“No.” Aurora shook her head. “Though I think eating a mouthful of baking powder is punishment enough.”
“Yeah.” I glanced down at the waffles. My craving was completely gone. If I ever needed to give up snacks, I’d just cover everything in baking powder.
“Kepler.”
I looked up in time to see a red sphere spinning toward my face. I caught the apple Aurora had tossed at me.
“Why don’t you try a healthier snack choice? I’m sure you’ll find more desserts later.”
I grinned. “What can I say? I’m a man who appreciates good food—with non-lethal amounts of baking powder.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As someone who is quite possibly cursed to always end up with the piece of baked good that has a bit of unmixed baking powder in it . . . a whole waffle with baking powder and flour mixed up seems like a bit of a punishment overkill for trying to sneak a treat! Fun story, though; I enjoyed it!
very amusing…
“The waffles sang their siren song through the screen.” I love that line! A lot of fun! As someone who encouraged his young kids to try tasting vanilla out of the bottle, I can relate to Aurora.
Well now I want waffles but not baking powder waffles and let me tell you that has happened to me with my gf pancakes once that taste is awful lolol
I laughed, I cried (in pity)… It moved me, Bob.
A lesson for all those who wish to pilfer from the kitchen!!
So fun! I absolutely love the first line.
So light and funny, a wonderful mood-lifter! As a person who has teenage boys steal the food I cook, I relate very much to Aurora. 😂