The Clarkl Soup Kitchens (6 page)

Another visit this year from our clients, the Batwigs. They never talk to us but, instead, stand in the door and greet their countrymen as they enter. They seem to be taking some kind of a survey.

Of course, we take a survey every day. How many meals were served, what was eaten, what was left over. We have over sixty years of these records, and our reports show that we are increasing our numbers of meals each year.

The new facility was finally approved, but it will be significantly different from the place I imagined. We will have four dining rooms branching off one enormous kitchen. Each dining room will serve a different meal, all day long. Certainly this will be easier for us, but will the crowds spread themselves around? Or have we trained them to expect our breakfast/lunch/dinner routine?

Another change will be that we will need to have a facility for around-the-clock snacks. On the architectural drawings this looks like an old Automat, with little doors that open. No coins will be required, though. Anybody who wants something will be able to drive up in its little one-seater and take small portions of cake or pie or that local tea. Of course, we will need to keep this facility filled at all hours.

December 25, 2143
 

A very merry Christmas this year. We received extra hut heaters from the American government!

This is the year I owe the kitty $10,000. Yes, an affair! It only lasted four months, but it was the first passion I have felt in many years, certainly since the twins were born.

The only thing we had in common was the Tuesday day off, but that was enough. After the courting and the bedding, it cooled quickly, but it was long enough for me to realize I’m not dead. He’s off to another woman, and I’m left with only the memories and a reduced bill at the commissary.

The new building is becoming more of a reality. The first poles were driven into the ground in August, and the floor is nearly complete now. I sometimes walk to the building site on my lunch break. Most of the workers are robots, of course, but the Batwigs are in charge.

Nothing ever is done quickly here, it seems. Building projects move slowly, with many, many layers of agreements required. If somebody wants a change higher up, the process for agreements starts afresh. Right now the architectural plans are finalized but the interiors are the subject of discussions at all levels. Whatever do the Monarchs care about it? They rarely enter the present building, and certainly never to take a meal here.

The Fundamentalists are not getting replacements, I understand. People are going home, but others are not coming.

Our own numbers continue to grow. We have about thirty percent more people on the farms than we had when I arrived and about five percent more in the kitchen. The numbers of meals served continues to climb, with fewer Clarklians dying of famine and, consequently, more Clarklians being born. Are all the entities who are born becoming our clients? Are only the poor gaining in numbers?

Poor Clarklians are very similar to poor Earthlings. They have patched clothes, bad teeth, and rough skin. However, they do not avoid bathing; public showers are available at nearly every street corner, with soap and warm water. All sexes shower together.

Mrs. Wade wrote that eleven more people from our town have signed the agreements to come to Clarkl for work. She told me my picture in the cookbook was one of the selling points. They will be on a spacecraft that arrives in September.

A small interruption to my financial plans this year: the twins are moving to
Denver
to attend Stanford. I will have to help with the tuition. I still believe I will be just above breakeven when I return to
Ohio
.

I’m still managing the dining room. We have no extra tables and no extra china, but the buffet line continues to grow. Every day I see new Clarklians, ones I have never seen in our dining room before. I’m not sure where they come from, but the manager says they are surely escapees from the Fundamentalists.

December 25, 2144
 

Another busy year, with lots of changes.

Patsy got so far behind that the loan company put a lien on my house. I quickly authorized the real estate manager to write a check for the full amount from my account, and now I am back to thinking about my options.

If I stay here an extra year, I will have about $50,000 in my account and all my liabilities paid off. That means I can live on the $30,000 per year from Harry’s annuity in a free-and-clear house. Any extraordinary expenses would need to come out of the $50,000. I will have no health insurance until I am 75, approximately fifteen years after I return to
Ohio
.

If I go home after ten years, I will have about $10,000 in my account and all my liabilities paid off. That’s very tight if something goes wrong.

I’m still paying about $10,000 every year for the twins in graduate school. That expense ought to be done with in another year, but they will surely need extra money to help them settle into their jobs.

I’ll never be able to get anything from Patsy. I’ll probably leave that receivable to be divided among the children when I die. Let them try to squeeze her.

This year brought a little extra money, though. We earned a cash bonus for exceeding our quota of meals served for ten straight quarters, and everybody in the dining room and kitchen crews received $4,000. The farmers received $5,000 each.

The cabbage crop was enormous this year, and we really didn’t know what to do with it. The Clarklians are not too fond of cabbage except in cole-slaw, which is very labor intensive. We have machines that chop the cabbage, but they never do a good job with it so it requires handwork before it is mixed. We fixed those cabbage spring rolls, too, but the Clarklians will eat them only to get the pineapple sauce we serve with them. We should just put out the sauce and let them spoon it over rice or potatoes.

The Fundamentalists appear to be nearly out of business. Our manager says they have not met their quota of meals for over three years. Their meeting room was dismantled several months ago, but we never learned why. Our farm is still providing all their produce.

My former admirer has become something of a celebrity here. He now has three lady friends, two on Tuesdays and one on Saturday evening. The women all are aware of this situation, and they apparently are willing to put up with his shenanigans.

The ratio of men to women is certainly one reason why he is popular. We have about six women to every four men, and most of the women are over fifty. The men, recruited for farming, tend to be younger.

The Seekers have given us ten robots for use in the dining room. They are very helpful with moving all the tables and chairs, cleaning the floor, cleaning each table and chair, and moving the tables and chairs back into place. I have set them up to work right after we take out the last dish after dinner. By the time we come back in the morning, the dining room is far cleaner than it ever had been when we cleaned it after a long day.

December 25, 2145
 

I signed on for another year. The twins took the last of my spare cash, after I paid off Patsy’s loan, and I decided I would rather have an extra $40,000 to fall back on than a year in warm
Ohio
.

The Fundamentalists have essentially abandoned their posts. They have a crew of about seventy people left, according to my manager. They had nearly three hundred when I arrived in 2137. All their foods come from either the spacecrafts from Earth or our farms. The seventy people are running the kitchen and the dining room.

The new facility is coming along nicely. The automat section is ready, and we have staffed it, in addition to our dining room work. Two people are there for each of the three shifts, and one person is always on duty to drive foods from the kitchen to the new facility, around the clock. Its popularity has grown, and now about ten percent of our food goes into those little compartments. The biggest users are the Drones, of course. They are large and like to eat a number of times each day.

The robots in the dining room are still working well. The Seekers have been watching the dishwashing crew to learn how to create robots to load and unload the dishwasher, and the prototypes are working very well. They are programmed to work with only certain dishes, and they are able to safely set all others aside. Right now the robots are handling about eighty-five percent of the dishes used on the serving line.

The huts were reroofed again this year, and this new roofing certainly keeps out the cold. It is some mixture of copper and platinum, materials that are in abundance here.

The only really good thing about this climate is that human skin ages more slowly. I have no sun spots and certainly no skin cancer. People who have been here for eleven years look almost no older than when they arrived.

About a dozen Monarchs came to the dining room one day this year, for the second time since I came to Clarkl. They toured the kitchen and the new facility, shown around by a few Batwigs. It was like a regal procession, with each Clarklian knowing its place in the line. We stood behind the buffet area, smiling. They never looked toward us. They remain the most hideous of creatures. I am very glad they are not our frequent guests.

A better apple crop this year, to the delight of the Clarklians. I don’t know why some years are better for apples, but we were able to dry many pounds of apple chips for use in the future. During that harvest, all days off were canceled, and lunch hours were cut to fifteen minutes. How nice the bags of dried fruit looked when we got them packed into the storeroom! And the kitchen smelled wonderful for several weeks.

We had some good luck with walnuts, too. The Clarklians love them mixed with pumpkin or in waffles.

As of right now, I am scheduled to leave in less than three years. This has been an interesting adventure, but I need to get back to my children and my Molly.

December 25, 2146
 

Less than two years to go!

This year will be remembered as the year I paid off my mortgage. I had asked the real estate people to make one or two extra payments each year, and in September the final payment was made. Now, I can relax. Even if I am sent home early, as most of the Fundamentalists have been, I have my home free and clear.

The new facility is closer to completion, and we are getting very anxious to occupy it. The kitchen is now very crowded, with the extra automat foods and two new chefs, and my dining room lines grow longer each month. Those Clarklians who had been eating with the Fundamentalists are coming here.

The automat is now attended by robots. Our staff takes food to the building and puts portions onto disposable plates or napkins. Then, the robots put the portions into the compartments. We used to have a system whereby we would put pie in one section and main dishes in another, but that is too complex for these robots right now. Except for tea, which has its own set of compartments and doors, any food can go into any empty compartment. This lack of order has not decreased the use of the automat in any way. It is still very popular, and the robots work continually to refill it. Our drivers who take the food from the kitchen work nonstop, too.

The Drones remain our best customers. They are very friendly, but they are the first to complain if service is not up to their expectations. If pancakes are served without pineapple sauce, we hear the squeals when they point to the serving dish where that sauce usually is kept. If a dish that usually has pecans as a garnish is served without the pecans, it becomes the uproar of the day. It reminds me of my troubles when the twins were young, multiplied by the hundreds of complainers.

My health has remained good for all the years here, but our manager is now having problems with “nerves.” The American doctor who has a clinic at the hotel in town, only fifty miles away, has given her some pills and has told her to work fewer hours. She has been taking the pills but she seems to be in the kitchen from sunup until late into the evening, as before.

My own work is somewhat lighter now. I have several good assistants, and the robots continue to clean the dining room beautifully every night.

Richard Crosslyn’s Journal

I promised my mother I would keep a journal while I am here on Clarkl, and I’ll do my best.

February 27, 2144
– we landed near the capitol of Gilsumo, on a high hill. The spacecraft was filled with people and cargo, and I was so relieved to get off and stand on
terra firma
. I waived my arms and jumped a few times to stretch. 

You would not believe the number of people on that craft! The Fundamentalists had all of us in little cabins, two or three crammed in together. On the upper decks were larger cabins, and they were filled, too. There was no cabin available during the seven months of the trip, even though I offered the Purser $20,000 to upgrade.

The center of the craft was filled with cargo, mostly food. All this food was going from
America
to Clarkl for the grocery stores and the charity dining halls, such as the one we are running.

The rich people on the top deck got off first, and then each lower deck in its turn. Finally we reached our deck, and I was able to see the Clarklians starting to unload the food, most of it in large bags. I saw flour, sugar, dried milk, and nuts. I also saw about two hundred citrus trees, each in a large can, wheeled down the gangplank.