text: Jake the master chef “Aww, Jakey. Mummy loves you matey, just remember that. Yeah..?’ “Yes Mummy.” “Now Hun, don’t answer the door to anyone and Mummy won’t be long. I...just need some time to me self, you know to relax.” “Yes mummy.” “Did you get the dinner I left on the table?’. “Yes Mummy ... Mummy can you come home soon?” “Aww Jakey, I won’t be long”. There is laughing in the background and clinking glass, it sounds like she’s at the pub again. “Mum, are you at the pub again?” “No, no, nooo matey. Just ran into some old friends with Aunty Rebecca. You remember Gordo and Stimps?’ I nod on the phone; they were the two blokes that used to come to tea all the time, just before Dad took all his stuff and left. Mum keeps talking I don’t really have to say anything. She’s not listening anyway, I just continue to nod. I’m not sure whether she’s talking to me or to someone else. “We’re just catching up and we’ll be home soon.” “Hey Nadine, we’re going for a smoke,” someone yells above all the other voices. “Jakey, I gotta go! I’ll be home soon! Awww love ya maate.” Then the phone goes dead. I look at the chicken schnitzel and vegies in a box on the table, I always get one of those on pay day. I take it out of the box, poke the fork through the plastic three times for luck and put it in the microwave for three minutes. It’s still a bit cold from the shop but not frozen so it doesn’t take that much time to cook. I love cooking. Mum showed me how to scramble eggs last week. She reckons I make the best toast ever and lets me get us breakfast every morning. Sometimes I come home from school and her toast is still on the table and she’s asleep on the couch. That’s the days she feels really sick. The light in the microwave is a buttery gold; I reckon that’s why it cooks my tea really nice and warm. Just as the bell on the microwave dings, the doorbell goes and there’s a knock at the door. “Jake, Jake, are ya there mate?” Really! I get so excited, “Dad is that you?” “Yeah mate, can ya let me in?” Dad sounds tired and I hear him lean onto the wall next to the door, both the wall and Dad give a soft groan. I want to ask him if he is Ok but I have to let him know what Mum said. “Mum...Mum...Mum said...” “Aww Jakey, it’s ya old man - you can let me in; besides Nadine was expecting me. She said she’d pay me back today. It’s pay day today isn’t it Jakey?” “Yeah, I got me schnitzel dinner for tea! Hang on Dad; I’ve got to get me tea out of the microwave. I’m cooking it. Do you want some?’ “Aww. Jakey, you’ve made tea for ya old man. You’d better let me in eh? What sort of schnitzel are we havin? Bet you can cook up a treat yeah?” I love seeing Dad; I wish he wouldn’t fight with Mum so much and maybe he could come round more often. I open the door and he’s standing there with his arms open. I give him a hug and he stumbles back a bit. “Easy mate, you don’t know your own strength. Gees, least she’s feedin ya right.” I take dad by the hand and start telling him about school. How Mrs Jenkins reckons I could go to cooking school one day where they teach you stuff like on Master Chef. Dad uses the wall a bit to help himself into the kitchen. His eyesight is a bit bad at night. He smells of beer and wee. He must have forgotten they were yesterday’s pants when he put them on. Dad slumps into a kitchen chair and reaches into his top pocket for a smoke. As he lights the smoke I drag the ashtray over to him and find a clean plate. I look for another one as I begin to cut up dinner and share it between the plate and the cooking tray. I’ll just use the tray now, then I’ll do some of the dishes in the sink till I find a plate. Gee, it will be just like going out for tea. I tell him about how sharing something in two becomes two halves and that if mum and Shantell were here we could share it in four and it would be one quarter. Dad looks at me and starts to say something like he’s really upset, when there’s a loud bang at the front door. “You arsehole! What you doing here?” Mum yells as she flies down the passage. “Jakey, didn’t I tell you not to let anyone in?” She looks cold and angry at Dad, “I guess you tricked him, didn’t ya?” she spits the words out as she glares at Dad. In a flash she picks up the plate of tea I just put out for dad and throws it across the room. My tea! If I don’t grab it now, she’ll throw it. I grab my half of the schnitzel and vegies on the tray and hug it as I race to the back door. The back door kicks back at me as I try to get through and knocks the tray as if trying to wrestle it from my arms, spilling peas, carrot and potato pieces over the back step and pieces of board I put there last week to make a bridge over the puddles. I really wanted to put it on a plate so Dad and I could sit and eat it like we were eating out. I’m glad I didn’t or I would have smashed my dinner as well. I had enough time to pick up the potato and some carrot, and almost cry with relief; least the good bits still in the tray, the yummy meat and thick gravy spread on top of the crumb coat. I feel the potato burning my hand but it’s not as bad as the tears burning my eyes and that really sore lump in my throat. Clutching my tea as carefully as I can, I run down the backyard. It’s just starting to get dark and everything is starting to look like a black and white photo. I slip into the fold in the base of the trunk of the old fir tree that seemed to be urging me forward so he could grab me, hug me and carefully sit me in his safe care. That’s why I call this tree Gramps, he makes me feel safe. This is my spot - I don’t need a cushion. The pine needles are soft and always smell like Christmas. I know this because Nan and Pop have a real Christmas tree every year; a tiny, tiny one, not like Gramps, my tree, they smell the same though. You can only see the top of Gramps from down the street and our front yard, from the back yard; he just goes on for ever. I sit down and can’t stop the tears soaking my face and soaking my shirt. I put my vegies carefully back into the tray - I’ll eat it soon. I.... I’ve just got to relax. I can hear Mum and Dad yelling, and then it all goes quiet. It’s OK. I pick up my tea and start to eat. I forgot I was so hungry. Part of tummy feels good after the food but part of it still feels empty, like there’s a hidden pocket in it. I rub my tummy and think about how good the chicken tasted and it eases the bits that still feel empty. Oh good, I hear laughter from the kitchen. The empty feeling flows away. I knew the food would find its way there. Mum must have got some smoke, that’s the laugh she has when she has, “Happy Smoke”. It’s her special medicine to help her cope. Maybe Dad will stay this time. We could go and get his things tomorrow and maybe we could go and get Shantell from the family she is staying with. My tea settles in my tummy and works out the knots and hidden pockets of emptiness, spreading a warmth that mingles with the tinkling of mum’s laugh. Maybe... maybe we could have tea out tomorrow, all of us.