Just to satisfy general curiosity, yes, we are still alive, and yes,
photos of our new baby will be made available in the very near future.
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: The Dinner Guest.txt
-The Appetizer-
Aperitif of Bruised Ranma over Ice
Akane Tendo was going to cook dinner that evening.
In most parts of the world, such an event would be preceded by
blaring sirens, panic in the streets, and the sun turning as black as
sackcloth. In the mostly quiet little ward of Tokyo called Nerima, such
apocalyptic horror had become cliche.
Nevertheless, the assembled family had fled under the flimsiest of
pretexts and as soon as possible, leaving Ranma alone in the house to
meet his fate. What he did not know until very late was that he would
not have to face the unknown alone.
"We're having someone over for dinner, and *you're* going to cook?"
Ranma asked with several meters distance between himself and his reluctant
fiancee. "Who is this person, and what do you have against them?"
Akane shot him an icy look, freezing him solid inside.
"Nothing at all, Ranma," she glowered. "It just so happens that I'm
doing this to repay a debt of honor."
Ranma's eyes crossed for a second as the concepts of Akane cooking
and repaying a debt of honor drifted through his mind on a collision
course with all the grace and subtlety of a pair of hundred car freight
trains.
"Lemme get this straight," he managed with some difficulty. "You
owe someone a debt of honor."
He looked to her for confirmation. She nodded curtly in response.
"And to repay this debt, you are going to cook for them."
Again, she nodded somewhat impatiently.
Ranma struck his fist into his palm, as if smitten with an epiphany.
"I get it now."
There was a brief pause as he regarded her in silence. Finally, he
spoke what was on his mind:
"Which brings us back to my first question: Who is this person,
and what do you have against them?"
Ranma then discovered that even the vast gulf of several meters was
insufficient margin against a certain fiancee of his when sufficiently
provoked.
________________________________________________________________________
J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:
THE DINNER GUEST
-or-
A Brief Foray into Food and Absolute Evil
By J. Austin Wilde
Fission Park Press
http://www.psn.net/~wildeman/
wildeman@psn.net
The characters and situations of
Ranma 1/2 are the creation and
property of Rumiko Takahashi and
Kitty TV/Shogakukan/VIZ Video.
________________________________________________________________________
"I do not love thee, Doctor Fell:
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well:
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell."
-Thomas Brown, Impromptu
Translation of Martial's Epigram
-The First Course-
Enigma Seasoned with a Suspicious Aromatic
Ranma Saotome found himself in a bind. He didn't want to stick
around and have Akane inflict her culinary art upon him. He realized
that he could easily slip off to the Ucchan or the Cat Cafe and mooch
some food if things got ugly. Akane was already mad at him, so what
did he have to lose?
On the other hand, Akane might be in real trouble, although how she
expected to repay whatever debt she owed by serving her toxic stew to a
stranger was anyone's guess. If she was in trouble, then his place was
close by, deadly food or not. There was also the fact that he might be
doing whoever it was a favor by sticking around to offer appropriate
warnings when Akane's back was turned. No sense in making matters worse
between the two, he reasoned.
The ring of the door chimes signalled the arrival of Akane's dinner
guest, startling him for no reason that he could put his finger on. A
sudden heaviness settled over him as he went to answer the door.
"Would you get that please, Ranma?" Akane cried from the kitchen as
several of Kasumi's crocks were dashed to the tile floor. "I'm a little
busy in here!"
"Way ahead of you," Ranma called back.
He slid the door aside to reveal a man of European stock well into
middle age. He was neat, fastidiously so, and handsomely attired. He was
not terribly imposing physically, indeed, he was spare and small of
frame. His hands clutched delicately at a small box wrapped in fine
cream colored paper, and smartly tied with a burgundy ribbon of satin.
The most striking feature that Ranma noticed about the man was his
eyes.
They were maroon, with tiny red points of light sparkling deep
within them like baleful stars. Penetrating eyes. Almost predatory.
Ranma's heart twinged with nameless dread upon beholding them.
"Good evening," the man said in fluent if barely accented Japanese.
His voice had a faint metallic quality to it that lent to Ranma the
impression of infrequent use. His bow of greeting was extremely polite
and proper, more so than Ranma would have expected from a foreigner.
"I am Doctor Fell. I trust this is the Tendo Residence?"
"Uh, Y-Yeah," Ranma stammered. "Um, please come in."
Doctor Fell allowed Ranma to step back from the door before moving
with easy grace to the place set aside for guests to remove their shoes.
Ranma noted that Akane had purchased a pricey set of guest slippers for
the occasion, and that they were already waiting for Doctor Fell. The
doctor slipped off his handmade leather shoes and put them in their
place.
"You must be Saotome Ranma," Doctor Fell observed as he placed his
slippers on his feet.
Ranma did not have any ready replies to the doctor's startling
declaration, and so hedged with, "Um, that's right... I, uh, I think
Akane was going to serve tea first."
Fell fixed his lambent eyes upon Ranma.
"Lead on, young man."
Ranma led the doctor into the living room. The man seemed to step
into the room as one might immerse one's self in a hot aromatic bath,
slowly at first, testing the heat of the waters, before sinking deeply
into the warmth and the smell. Fell in fact appeared to be doing just
that. His nostrils flared wide as he drank in the various scents of the
room, from the old and well-polished wood of the beams, to the crisp
scent of scrupulously clean tatami, the resiny tang of incense, and the
sharp odor of perspiration. There were other, less familiar, scents,
and Fell seemed to drink them in with an unnatural rapture.
Akane appeared from the kitchen, abruptly ending his olfactory
odyssey of the Tendo home.
"Doctor Fell," Akane said with a shy blush. "I'm so happy that you
could join us."
"Ah, Miss Tendo!" Fell called warmly. "I was honored to receive
such a gracious invitation to dinner."
Ranma wondered what the enmity was between them that required this
'debt of honor' be paid, because it certainly didn't show. Before he
could add anything to the mutual appreciation festival, Fell produced
the gift-wrapped box and presented it to Akane.
"A token of esteem," Fell announced. "And to show that there is no
ill will between us."
Akane took the box with trembling hands.
"May I open it now?" she asked.
"Certainly," Fell replied.
Akane set the box down on the low table and began to unwrap it
with all of the care and delicacy that distinguishes hers as the fairer
sex. Ranma found himself wanting to reach out and rip the paper off with
a shout just watching her.
When she had completed what for Ranma was the torturous task of
unwrapping the gift, her eyes went alight.
"Oh my," she said softly. "I don't know what to say."
Ranma, feigning disinterest the entire time, craned his neck over
Akane's shoulder to look down upon a small bottle of finely wrought
leaded crystal. Within the decanter was a transparent golden fluid that
glowed softly in the ambient light of the room.
"I would be most appreciative if you would wear it this evening,"
Fell said to her. His eyes burned as he spoke, making Ranma tense -
though from jealousy or possibly even fear, he did not truly know.
"It's wonderful," Akane managed, spraying the perfume lightly upon
her neck.
Ranma watched as Fell's nostrils flared again, as if he meant to
drink in all of her essence and bring it into himself - and once there
to keep it forever.
"As I suspected it would, the scent compliments and completes you,"
Fell remarked. The baleful fire of his eyes seemed sated for the moment,
receding into the maroon depths like banked coals.
"Thank you, Doctor," Akane said with a bow.
Fell nodded, his thin red lips forming a slight smile that was
directed unerringly towards Ranma Saotome. Ranma turned away with
unease.
Akane set the perfume aside and excused herself to fetch the tea.
Ranma jumped to his feet as if to help.
"What is it, Ranma?" she hissed at him. "You're not supposed to
be helping me, it isn't proper."
"We need to talk," he shot back through his smiling teeth.
* * *
Once they were in the kitchen, Ranma let fly.
"You mind telling me what the *hell* is going on between you and
this Doctor Fell guy? He's old enough to be your dad, for gods' sakes!"
Akane stood mute for a moment as a sudden thought occurred to her.
"Honestly, Ranma," she said with an ever-brightening smile of glee.
"Do you really think there is something like that going on between us?
Are you actually *jealous* of Doctor Fell?"
"Jealous?!" Ranma repeated. "Me, jealous of him? Ha! He doesn't
know how lucky he is not having someone like you for a fiancee."
Akane was unconvinced, and her smug satisfaction at seeing Ranma
jealous armored her against his cutting remark.
"Although that was a very thoughtful gift he gave me," she said
with exaggerated dreaminess. "No-one's ever given me such an expensive
bottle of perfume before..."
Ranma tried to retort, but words failed him. Though he could not
explain it, he had felt oddly pleased at beholding the look in Akane's
eyes when she saw the perfume, and part of him was kicking itself that
he had never done anything like that for her.
"Don't worry about it, Ranma," she said to him quietly, having
noted his sudden pensiveness. "I know you could never afford something
like that, and I don't hold it against you. Now go back out there and
keep Doctor Fell company. We don't want to appear rude."
"First tell me where you met this guy. He gives me the creeps."
"I think you're just jealous. Yuka and I were window shopping on
the Ginza. We know we can't afford to shop there, but it's fun to just
look sometimes."
Ranma made circling motions with his hands to bring her to the
point.
"Anyway, I met him outside a boutique that sells expensive import
food and wines. Well... Actually, I bumped into him... And broke the
bottle of wine he had just bought." Her eyes widened in remembered
horror at the accident. "It was *really* expensive; Montrachet something
or other, and hard to find here in Japan. At first I thought he was
going to explode, but when I started apologizing he just looked at me
for a moment and calmed down."
"So you were your usual clumsy self and broke a bottle of wine,"
Ranma said. "So what? How does this get him here awaiting a terrible
death from food poisoning?"
Akane glared at him for a piercing moment.
"I told him that I couldn't afford to replace the wine, so I asked
if I could cook dinner for him to make up for it," Akane replied. "It
was kind of weird. I mean he was cool and aloof one moment, almost icy,
and as soon as I mentioned food he became so friendly and outgoing. It
was sort of embarrassing, but he's such a charming man. We talked for
hours afterwards..."
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Ranma said with a wave of his hand. "I
don't want to know any more, so I guess I'll go out and keep Doctor
Charming company. Don't keep us waiting too long."
-The Second Course-
Simmered Fear with Disquiet Sauce
Doctor Fell was apparently very easy to entertain, for he didn't
seem to be bored in the slightest at waiting for the return of his hosts.
In fact it did not appear that he had moved even a fraction of an inch
from the position Ranma had last seen him when he accompanied Akane into
the kitchen. Economy of movement was the man's hallmark trait, though
when he did move, it was swiftly, surely, and above all, silently.
Perhaps it was that more than the man's preternatural eyes that bothered
Ranma.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Fell appeared to be
engrossed in the decor of the room, or perhaps just its myriad scents,
and felt no apparent need to speak to his host. Ranma on the other hand,
was a different matter.
He needed to come up with something to say, anything, to break the
oppressive silence. Even if the doctor did not seem to mind, it was
driving him crazy.
As he opened his mouth to spout some inane triviality, Fell spoke.
"I find Akane to be a fascinating creature, don't you?"
There was a teasing, almost mocking quality to his voice that grated
on Ranma far more than the metallic edge that accompanied it.
"Um, I guess so," he replied.
Fell frowned almost imperceptibly at this, and Ranma found himself
wishing he had said something a bit more substantial, intelligent even.
Something deep inside him was screaming that whatever he did, he had
better not bore this man.
"I mean, is she spirited?" Ranma recovered. "Definitely. I never
met a girl who was so..." His train of thought derailed. Akane Tendo was
many things, but he had never trusted himself to think much about them,
much less expound upon them to a stranger, and an intimidating, possibly
even dangerous stranger at that.
"Akane," Fell said in the silence that followed. His sharply
pointed and very red tongue flicked out briefly from between his lips.
"What an agreeable name." He closed his eyes in silent reflection.
"Prophetic, sublime, and divine that name. I feel Titian would have
found in her the elemental fire made flesh in woman."
Ranma's eyes crossed. Titian?
Fell continued without breaking stride. "In the gift of scent that
I offered, I had hoped to mate that fire to the scent, to create something
finer than the simple measure of her glory, and I am pleased to note that
I have succeeded."
Ranma, lost somewhere around 'elemental fire,' nodded sagely and
kept his mouth shut.
The subject of their brief discussion appeared with the tea before
Ranma could catch up with Fell's observations, saving him from having to
come up with somthing on the fly later.
She served the tea gracelessly, dribbling over Fell's cup and
nearly dousing Ranma's lap in her rush to make amends. Fell said
nothing, he merely returned with a good natured smile, while Ranma tried
to contain himself. His desire to lash out at Akane for her usual
clumsiness was suddenly overridden by an uncommon flash of restraint.
Akane and the doctor made small talk after that, leaving Ranma to
squirm uncomfortably and wish that the evening would end, and thus leave
him free to dash about the neighborhood stark raving mad as he worked
off the nervous tension that built up within him with each passing
moment.
To make matters with Ranma worse, while Akane prattled on about
this or that, Fell would occasionally shift his attention subtly towards
him and smile. These shifts of attention were executed so deftly that
Akane never noticed that the gesture was not meant for her, and occurred
just often enough to let Ranma know that Fell was keeping him in his
thoughts.
During these moments Ranma imagined the doctor visualizing a spot
just behind his forehead while idly pondering ways to get there the hard
way.
He tried nudging Akane under the table to get her attention, to
speak to someone other than Doctor Fell. Even to get mad. An angry Akane
would be saved from the web of charm the doctor had woven around her.
She didn't even notice him, even when he knew a few of them should have
hurt. Eventually he stopped trying, and resigned himself to stay wary
and alert.
The evening, though it had barely started, was beginning to take on
a dreamlike quality. Or rather, a nightmare-like quality. A nightmare
that he was only dimly aware of at first, yet as it grew and deepened,
one that he was helpless to confront or escape. He could only watch it
unfold around him, and at the center of that nightmare was the small man
in the crisp linen shirt and hand-tailored Italian slacks, the man whose
eyes made dark promises of malice if one looked in them too long. The
man who seemed not merely smitten with Akane, but obsessed.
There was a part of him that wanted to scream in terror, that part
of him that was frightened of Doctor Fell. Ranma Saotome was a young man
of surprisingly little fear, and aside from a childhood trauma involving
hungry cats, had been genuinely afraid of no-one, absolutely no-one,
in his entire life. Thus once more his fevered brain tried to rationalize
what he saw and heard, and to put his apprehension down to a wild
imagination and nothing else. There was nothing wrong with Doctor Fell,
nor was there anything wrong with the way Akane reacted to him. It was
just stupid to think that she could be in any kind of danger. The smiles
weren't meant to intimidate, they were just an indication of how friendly
the doctor was.
Right?
Akane announced that it was time for dinner, and Ranma remembered
that there was at least one thing within the Tendo home to truly fear.
-The Third Course-
Paranoia Served Chilled Over Saotome
Doctor Fell looked down at what could only charitably be termed food.
It was Akane's attempt at French cuisine, prepared in honor of her
Western guest, and wars had been started for lesser offenses. For a man
of such obviously refined tastes as the good doctor, to say nothing of
his formidable senses, it was an exercise in courtesy strained to its
limits as he lifted the fork to his mouth.
Ranma contemplated warning him, but he had caught the brief flash
of dismay in Fell's maroon eyes and realized that the doctor did indeed
know what he was getting himself into. The fact that he forged on in
spite of such forewarning only made him more intimidating. Even Ryouga
feared Akane's food; the fact that he still ate it when offered was
merely a testament to his own stupidity. Doctor Fell on the other hand
seemed to be eating out of respect, that it would be *rude* to disparage
the host's fare - and that such an act was tantamount to hypocrisy for a
man like Fell.
When the fork crossed the threshold of his small white teeth and
his thin red lips had closed over the bite, Ranma watched with all of
the morbid fascination of witnessing a fatal car wreck. For a moment
Fell seemed to be in another place and time, not out of rapture but as
a private means of escape. The fork's clatter upon the plate as he
politely chewed was deafening, and only then did Ranma realize that
Akane was watching the doctor with an equal intensity.
Fell swallowed, dappled at the corner of his mouth with his napkin,
and sipped his tea.
A long heavy silence hung over the table.
"It's no good, is it," Akane said softly.
Fell inclined his head as if to speak, but words failed him.
Akane turned away. "I should have known better," she said tonelessly.
"I'm sorry. I ruined your whole evening."
"I'm sorry too," Ranma added hastily. "You must be tired and all,
Doctor, so why don't I call you a cab or something?"
"Your first attempt at French cuisine?" Fell asked slowly, his
strength returning. His pointed disregard of Ranma's invitation to get
lost was apparent with a burning look in his direction.
Akane nodded, eyes dewing.
"I must admit that I have enjoyed better fare," Fell said, choosing
his words with care. "But in all honesty, I assure you that I have lived
on far worse."
Akane, head bowed, said nothing.
"There is no need to let this spoil the evening," Fell observed,
again looking briefly in Ranma's direction. "Though not formally trained,
I have romanced the art of cooking long enough to be something of a chef,
and in my day have been known for the excellence of my table." At this a
wry grin slipped across his lips before fading back into the gravity of
the moment. "I would be happy to share what I have learned with you if you
like."
Akane looked up, her eyes were now wet with barely restrained tears.
"Really?" she asked, unconvinced.
Fell closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly before speaking.
"Of course."
Ranma took a deep breath, and tried even harder not to scream.
* * *
Doctor Fell stood silently in the center of the kitchen. It was
clear to him that despite the current condition as one of shambles and
utter disarray, the Tendo family kitchen was tended regularly by a cook
of some skill. Akane's sister, conspicuously absent, Fell noted. It was
true, as his maroon eyes flicked about the room, that said cook did not
possess the accoutrements of the trade that he was accustomed to using,
but all in all he would be able to make due.
"I apologize for the mess," Akane said shamefully.
"Nonsense," Fell said quietly with a flick of his hand. "I consider
it fortunate that I passed by a well stocked grocer on my way here. A
few quick telephone calls will bring us what we need. As for the chaos,
we shall make quick work of it whilst we wait."
Akane, expecting Fell to give up once he saw the ruins of Kasumi's
kitchen, did not know what to say. She only knew that she didn't have
the money to pay for any more groceries this evening.
Fell, perhaps sensing this, gave her a smile that showcased his
perfect small white teeth. He placed a credit card issued by the Rio de
Janeiro branch of a major international bank on the counter next to a
notepad Kasumi used for grocery lists, knowing that with it he would
enjoy the remainder of the evening immensely.
"Shall we begin, then?"
* * *
Ranma poked his head around the doorframe to see Doctor Fell
standing almost intimately close behind Akane, his small hand over hers
as she stirred something in a bowl.
"Keep your wrist so," Fell coached in his dry voice, moving his
hand so that it adjusted Akane's grip on the whisk. "As you move with
your elbow making a slow circular motion, your whisk will remain within
the same plane, ensuring an even folding action without slopping it
about the bowl."
Akane did as she was instructed, marveling at how easily - how
professionally - the whisk moved in the bowl. She didn't splash a bit
of it.
"That's it," Fell said approvingly. "Mind that you don't whip too
quickly. We are not making a meringue."
"Sorry, I just got carried away," Akane almost giggled.
Ranma grimaced from the doorway at the way she was acting around
the creepy old man, Fell.
**What's with that stupid chick? Can't she see what he's up to?**
Even as he thought it, Fell's lambent eyes met his through their
mutual reflection in the kitchen window overlooking the garden. He saw
the man's faintly mocking smile shining beneath his malefic eyes and
suppressed a shudder as he ducked back into the relative safety of the
hall.
* * *
Ranma's next venture into the doorway to the kitchen brought a
sight instantly harrowing: Doctor Fell, gleaming knife in hand,
standing next to Akane. Reflex pulled him into the kitchen at a bound.
He checked himself only when he saw Fell begin to deftly slice up a
hefty slab of gorgeously marbled aged beef with the speed and sureness
of a Teppan chef.
"Ah, Ranma," Fell said without looking up from the cut of beef
he was preparing. "Come to join us in the kitchen have you? Mind the
knife carefully now," he added with a flash of red light from his eyes.
"We wouldn't want any accidents, hmmm?"
Ranma did not rise to what may or may not have been a threat from
the doctor. He was taken instead by the meat that the doctor prepared
with surgical precision.
Beef was something that appeared in the Tendo household very
sparingly, a circumstance that was true in most modest Japanese homes,
and in spite of the fact that Japanese beef was some of the finest in
the world. Good beef, *truly fine* beef, in the Tendo home was unheard
of. All Ranma could do was keep himself from drooling.
Akane noticed this and remarked, "Isn't it wonderful of Doctor
Fell to treat us like this, Ranma?"
"We are doubly fortunate that the establishment I have been
frequenting during my stay in your country was willing to make a
delivery at such a late hour," Fell added. "Wagyu beef from Kobe is
truly the caviar of red meat."
"Uh, yeah. Great," Ranma replied. "So, um, what's for dinner?"
Fell leveled a full strength smile at him, reminding him of his
need for wariness.
"That, my dear Ranma, is a surprise."
* * *
The evening continued slowly in much the same way. Ranma sat in
the living room, telling himself over and over again that there was no
reason to be so wound up, and every little clatter of plate or crock,
every sharp metallic sound of a kitchen utensil in use, and every gasp
of surprise from Akane would find him half jumping out of his skin to
rush into the kitchen to protect her from... What?
Fell had her under his spell, that was true enough, but what was it
that he really wanted from her? More importantly, how could he get her to
realize it without getting her mad at him?
Something tasty was definitely in the works, whatever was going
on. Ranma could smell it, and his belly ached to be filled. He wondered
where Nabiki, and his Pop and Mister Tendo had fled. Kasumi, he knew,
had gratefully relinquished the kitchen when Akane informed her of her
desire to cook for a guest, and the eldest Tendo girl was spending the
evening with friends.
Shouldn't the others be coming back soon? he asked himself.
* * *
"Like that?" Akane's voice drifted from the kitchen.
"Precisely," Fell replied, clearly pleased.
"How do you know how much seasoning to add? I don't see a recipe
anywhere."
"The recipe, my dear, is well known to me. As for your desire to
to overseason, it must be checked," Fell said evenly. It had apparently
been a lesson not yet mastered by his pupil. "Cooking involves a certain
degree of patience, and while your enthusiasm becomes you, it does not
suit the food unless tempered by a degree of well exercised restraint.
With experience will come the flair that you so urgently seek."
Ranma waited as a long pause preceded from the kitchen.
"Oh."
"And by paying attention to what you are doing," Fell added. "That
is alum, not mustard powder."
"Oops," came a meek voice.
"No matter, we have plenty of time before this is needed. Start
again, please."
* * *
Ranma peered from beneath the _noren_ that graced the kitchen door
to see Akane standing alone.
"Hey, Tomboy," Ranma hissed.
Akane turned slowly and gave Ranma a sour look, but there was little
of her usual venom in it.
"What do you want, Ranma?" she asked.
"Where's Doctor Charming? Did he come to his senses and run for his
life?"
Akane's brow furrowed.
"What do you care, Ranma?" she retorted. "It so happens that Doctor
Fell forgot something when he phoned the butcher, and so he went out to
fetch it himself."
"No kidding?"
Akane rolled her eyes. "I tried to talk him into sending you for
whatever it was, seeing as how you aren't doing anything but being a pest,
but the doctor insisted that he go himself."
"Sounds like an excuse for running to me."
"Idiot," Akane spat. She set her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Ranma,
I haven't seen you this jealous in a long time. This even beats the time
I went with Ryouga to the park."
"Not this again," Ranma moaned tiredly. "Just how is it that you
think I'm being jealous?"
"You keep poking your head in here, as if something is going to
happen to me if you don't."
**Well, yeah...** thought Ranma, but he remained silent.
Akane watched him for a moment.
"I'm right, aren't I?"
"What are you talking about?" Ranma growled defensively. "It just so
happens that this Doctor Fell guy really creeps me out. There's something
wrong with him, Akane. Something I can't put my finger on, but it's
there."
Akane's brow relaxed, and she favored him with a sly smile.
"So you're worried about me, is that it?"
Ranma cringed. Her smile always did this to him, and what was worse
was that he wasn't sure if he really disliked it.
"W-Worried?" he fumbled. "Gimme a break, Akane. If I was worried,
and that's a big 'if,' it's because anything that happened to you would
get blamed on me!"
He closed his eyes and waggled his tongue at her, prompting Akane to
heft a saucepan and throw it at him in reply. The upshot of which was that
he was clouted squarely on the head and bowled over onto the floor.
"Jerk," Akane spat.
As Ranma recovered, he felt an icy presence behind him, followed
immediately by Doctor Fell stepping silently over his prone form.
Something dribbled on his arm as the doctor passed, something wet and
deep red.
"Gah!" Ranma cried out, regarding his forearm as if he had been
dismembered.
Fell turned to face him. Clutched in his arm was a parcel wrapped
in heavy white paper stained red in places.
"Is there a problem, Ranma?" he asked gravely.
Ranma looked first at the bloodstain on his arm and then to the
parcel that Fell carried. The parcel that was clearly from the butcher
shop.
"No. No problem. I just didn't hear you coming, that's all."
Fell nodded brusquely.
"I'm terribly sorry," he offered. "Perhaps you should retire to
the other room until supper is ready."
Ranma nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'll be going now."
**This night can't get over with soon enough... And how did that
old gaijin sneak up on me?**
-The Fourth Course-
Sweetbreads and Other Tasty Body Parts
Ranma looked hungrily at the spread laid out before him on the
table. Many thin slices of tender beef with centers just the right
shade of pink lay upon his plate drizzled with a pale yellow mustard
sauce of Doctor Fell's creation. Tender stalks of fresh asparagus,
steamed to perfection and braised in garlic, sage, and lemon butter,
were carefully arranged to the side of the beef. Sauteed shallots,
pearl onions, and carmelized julienne carrots completed the entree.
Fell was a creepy old man, Ranma decided, but he was as good as
his word when it came to food. Even more surprising, Ranma realized,
was that Doctor Fell had done what had otherwise proven impossible
for Kasumi or even Ranma's own mother: under his supervision, Akane
had cooked a meal that was both complex and appetizing!
Akane fairly beamed from across the slight distance that
separated them at the table. She knew the score as well as Ranma.
He proceeded to dive at the entree, only to be stopped cold
by a hearty throat-clearing from his fiancee.
"What is it, Akane?" Ranma asked impatiently. The Wagyu beef had
been calling to him for hours, and its siren song was to him quite
irresistible.
"Aren't you forgetting the appetizers?" she asked archly.
Ranma looked away from his plate to see a spinach and artichoke
heart salad, and six small porcelain dishes containing a lumpy
slice of a pinkish meat and a mushroom cap sitting atop a neat circle
of toast all swimming in butter and fresh cream.
Ranma was not one to turn his nose up at vegetables, but oh, the
smell of the beef! He turned his face pleadingly towards Akane,
who glared back and jerked her eyes towards Fell.
"You should at least try these, Ranma," Akane strongly suggested
while gesturing towards the steaming porcelain dishes. "They are a
specialty of Doctor Fell's."
Ranma sniffed curiously at the unknown appetizer. It didn't smell
half bad, he decided.
"So, what are they?" he asked Fell.
"_Ris de Veau a la Napoli,_" Fell declared. "I apologize for the
fact that there was not suitable time to prepare a hearty lentil
and lobster meat soup as an appetizer, and I hope you find this to be
an adequate substitute."
"Ree duh what?" Ranma asked, tasting one of them, and deciding that
he liked it. He popped the rest of it in his mouth and gobbled it
down.
"_Ris de Veau,_" Fell repeated. "Sweetbreads a la Napoli."
Ranma murmured his approval as he chewed. It wasn't really as sweet
as the name implied, having a rather light flavor that was heavily
influenced by the butter and cream. It was a bit chewy for meat, he
felt, but all in all not bad.
"Not bad," he declared as he reached for a second helping of the
appetizer. "But what's a sweetbread?"
Fell's maroon eyes gleamed. "The sweetbreads are more commonly
known as the thymus, a gland found in animals in the upper chest cavity,
just behind the breastbone." He spoke as if an authority on the subject
of procuring them. "The gland produces lymphocytes and functions as
a part of the immune system. The lower portion of the gland, known to
butchers as the belly, is used in the preparation of the dish, whilst
the upper portion, or throat, shrivels and becomes unpalatable in mature
animals." He smiled beatifically in conclusion.
Ranma tried not to gag.
"Is that what they are?" Akane cried, her curiosity satisfied. She
had, of course, watched him prepare the strange organs with some amazement,
but had been too shy to ask just what they were. She nibbled on one
thoughtfully. "Wow. I never realized the thymus was so yummy."
Ranma gave her a look of mingled horror and accusation as he nearly
lost the battle with his bile.
"S-So, what brings you to Japan?" Ranma asked, stomach still quivering
on the brink of rebellion. He needed to get the conversation as far from
sweetbreads as possible, and at the same time he wanted to learn more about
the good doctor.
Fell favored him with an indulgent look.
"It so happens that there was a _Kohdo_ tournament taking place this
week in Sendagi ward."
"_Kohdo?_" Ranma asked. "Incense naming?"
He had to admit, it made sense. Fell's nose could probably handle
the six hundred scents that made up the incense spectrum quite easily.
As for the part about coming up with an appropriate poem to name each
mystery scent for the judges, Fell was probably no slouch in that regard,
either.
Fell nodded. "It is a hobby of mine that I have regrettably been
unable to indulge for some time. When the opportunity finally presented
itself, I took the first flight to Tokyo."
"So where are you from, and what do you do for a living, if you
don't mind me asking?" At last, Ranma felt, he was in control of the
conversation.
Fell became almost guiltily silent before responding.
"Of late I reside in Brazil, and before that I spent a good while in
Maryland, although I have called many places throughout the world home.
As for my profession, I am a Doctor of Psychiatric Medicine."
"Brazil," Akane repeated, clearly enamored of the thought of sun-
drenched beaches and exotic people rather than the fact that Fell was
a head-shrinker. "It sounds so exciting!"
"Get serious, Akane," Ranma piped up. "There's not one dojo worth
mentioning there."
"Brazil has its advantages," Fell reflected, again ignoring Ranma
in favor of Akane. "But I have always felt a certain fondness for Italy."
As he said this he became taken with the gleam of the candlelight in
Akane's soft brown eyes and turned to her, his voice fervent and
compelling.
"Io era tra color che son sospesi,
e donna mi chiamo beata e bella,
tal che di comandure io la richiesi.
Lucevan li occhi suoi piu che la stella;
e cominciommi a dir soave e piana,
con angelica voce, in sua favella:
... I' son Beatrice che ti faccio andare;
vegno del loco ove tornar disio;
amor mi mosse, che mi fa parlare.
Quando saro dinazi al segnor mio,
di te mi lodero sovente a lui.
... Tacette allora, e poi comincia' io:
'O donna di virtu, sola per cui
l'umana spezie eccede ogne contento
di quel ciel c'ha minor li cerchi sui,
tanto m'aggrada il tuo comandamento
che l'ubidir, se gia fosse, m'e tardi;
piu non t'e uo' ch'aprirmi il tuo talento..."
Ranma, his eyes glazed over after the first verse, suddenly
realized that Akane was looking at Fell with starry eyes, and that
Fell was about to take Akane's hands. He clattered his knife and fork
against his plate and began to make noisy eating sounds as he dug into
his entree. This had the desired effect of destroying the carefully
cultivated mood and refocusing Akane's attention away from Fell and
back to him.
Which isn't necessarily a good idea, when your fiancee is a
violent tomboy with years of training in an obscure but powerful
school of martial arts.
When Ranma was capable of sitting upright again, Fell and Akane
were engaged in more light conversation, the incident involving a
mallet appearing from nowhere into Akane's hands and then being driven
with determination and just a little malice down upon Ranma's head
being quickly forgotten.
"Ah, Ranma, returned to the land of the living, have we?" Fell
offered with a chuckle. "Akane was just telling me about you."
**And nothing good I'm sure,** Ranma groused to himself as he
rubbed his head gingerly.
"Akane tells me that the two of you are, in fact, engaged to be
married."
Ranma crossed his eyes at the thought.
"I guess so."
Fell smiled thinly. Thoughts of Florence and young lovers many
summers ago drifted through the halls of his mind. If only there were
an abundance of fresh flowers handy...
With some reluctance he dismissed the idea, and returned to the
evening's original source of amusement. The problem with whimsy was
that it often left you unprepared for the truly grand inspirations.
Nevertheless, he would make do.
"I am curious, Ranma. Being a skilled martial artist with a, shall
we say *interesting* life, this event was perhaps bound to happen sooner
or later, and your training must have addressed it at one point..."
"What's your question?" Ranma interrupted.
Fell wetted his red lips with his tongue. "What did it feel like
to kill someone?" he asked in a gravid voice.
Ranma opened his mouth in protest, but no sound came forth.
Even Akane, by this point thoroughly charmed by the good doctor,
tried to protest such a question. Fell continued to bore his lambent
eyes into Ranma.
"According to Akane, you had an adventure quite recently that
led to the death of a young man named Saffron. A death by your hand,
I might add."
"But Saffron wasn't a man," Ranma muttered, suddenly remembering
a day that he had tried very hard to forget. "He was some kinda god!
And anyway, he was reincarnated later that day!"
Fell remained unmoved.
"But you did kill him," he said evenly.
Ranma nodded his head slowly.
"And it was in fact your intention to kill him."
Ranma sank back against his heels. The battle with Saffron had
been so desperate that he never had the chance to think through the
consequences. For him there had been only one consequence, one
motivation, that mattered.
Akane.
The girl who was even now falling back under the doctor's spell
with a simple innocuous wink. She had told this man, practically a
total stranger, about the battle with Saffron, and who knew what else.
"Akane was dying," he managed. Fell seemed surprised by this
revelation, but allowed him to continue. Perhaps Akane hadn't told
him everything. "Saffron was the only thing standing between life and
death for her, and he wouldn't let up... I didn't have any choice
but to do it."
Fell nodded slowly.
"Am I to believe then by your tone that it has caused you a
certain amount of distress?"
His voice was strangely soothing, and despite his considerable
discomfort with the subject, Ranma felt compelled to answer Doctor
Fell.
"Killing him? I don't know. I try not to think about it." Ranma
sighed. "It's easier knowing that he isn't really dead."
"But you would do it again, if you had to. Even if you knew that
he wouldn't be coming back."
Ranma closed his eyes.
"Yeah."
Fell nodded again. He understood something vital now about his
hosts. His decision was made.
"Thank you for your candor, Ranma." Turning to Akane, he smiled
and took a bite of the Ris de Veau. "I envy you for your trip to China.
It is one place that has fascinated but eluded me. Perhaps I should
visit while the opportunity presents itself?"
Akane gratefully seized upon the change of subject, and dinner
resumed.
* * *
Dinner was long since over, and the evening was late. It was still
just the three of them in the house, the other members of the family had
not yet returned. At last Fell excused himself from his long conversation
with Akane and prepared to depart.
"I thank you for your hospitality and your company," Fell said.
At some point in the evening his voice had lost its metallic grate and
taken on a warmer, more comforting aspect.
"It was our pleasure," Akane answered for the both of them. Ranma
having remained silent since Fell's disturbing question at dinner.
"I am not in the habit of playing the role of dinner guest," Fell
continued. "Usually the host's table is mine. Perhaps some day you and
your fiance might join me for dinner?"
"We'd love that!" Akane blurted, for fear that Ranma might break
his silence and say something that would embarrass her.
"Splendid," Fell said with a nod of his head. Then he bowed
formally and left them standing in the doorway as he walked into the
Nerima night. Barking dogs quieted when he drew near, and the air
seemed lighter with his passing.
-Dessert-
It was Akane's birthday, and the package came with the mail. It
was festooned with numerous postage marks and cancellations, none of
them Japanese. Inside was a bottle of wine - Montrachet - and a note.
The ivory paper of the note was rich and heavy, almost linen, and
graced with the fine copperplate hand of Doctor Fell, in red ink of
the exact color signified by Akane's name.
Dear Akane,
I trust this letter has reached you on your birthday.
Today as I watch the sunset clouds from my window I find myself
thinking of you. You were but the briefest page in the account of my
life, but rest assured that you shall be one that I oft return to in my
thoughts. I found that evening so many weeks ago to be one of wonder and
delight, such as I have not enjoyed in a great while, and I thank you
for the time and the meal that we have shared.
Now please allow me to be somewhat blunt. I observed your fiance to
be crude and boorish, but appearances to the contrary and in his own
misguided way he is utterly devoted to you. Upon thorough consideration
I determined that it would be a great shame to keep him from you.
In a world crowded with lesser lights you are both luminous
creatures. You enrich this penurious world, and, more importantly in my
opinion, you make it interesting. I hold it to you then to ennoble and
refine him that your life together be more pleasant. I have little doubt
that you will compell him to such needful gains of character in one
fashion or another.
About the wine:
Yes, it is the vintage I lost in the fortunate accident that
brought us together. I have since relocated to climes where such is
easier to come by, and in the end, what grief I felt at its loss is
justly mitigated by the delight I found in you. I realize that you
will be unable to enjoy it (legally) for several years, but in fact
this is a boon rather than a curse. In my experience I predict that
like you, your Montrachet will have reached the peak of its vintage
by then.
Respectfully Yours,
Hannibal Lecter, M.D.
P.S. Undoubtedly you have discovered the identity of your dinner
guest, as I have read of my 'exploits' in Japan in several periodicals
with world wide distribution. I would urge you to keep this note and my
gift of wine to yourself, for it would be a fruitless search on the
part of the authorities to trace their origin.
Akane looked slowly to Ranma, who held up a copy of "The National
Tattler," a tabloid paper from the States that Nabiki occasionally
perused both for her amusement and to practice her English. Prominent
on the front page in 72 point Gothic type was the screamer headline:
"HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL IN THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN?!"
Beneath was a photograph of a man fettered in a straitjacket and
securely bound to a handtruck. The face of the man in the photo was
thinner, and his nose sharper and finer, than Doctor Fell, but his
baleful eyes shone through even the grainy black and white print to
reveal the truth.
THE END
Author's Notes:
1. The character of Hannibal Lecter is of course the creation and
intellectual property of Thomas Harris. I can only hope to have done
him justice in the writing of this piece of fanfiction.
2. The story came to me as I was preparing Chicken Parmesan in our new
apartment. I have long been a fan of Thomas Harris' books (see "Stigma"
if you had any doubts about that) and I began to wonder what it would be
like to cook for Hannibal Lecter. From there I found myself asking the
question, what would it be like for someone like Akane Tendo to cook for
said serial gourmet?
One result could be that Lecter would simply kill Akane for her culinary
crimes, but that wouldn't be very much fun to write, as well as being
predictable for those of you who knew who the mysterious Doctor Fell was
from the beginning.
What if somehow in spite of her terrible cooking, Doctor Lecter actually
*liked* Akane? At least enough to spare her (and Ranma, whom I otherwise
feel Lecter would slaughter without batting an eye) and go on about his
business? Perhaps even take her under his wing and teach her a thing or
two about cooking? At first take on this concept, I visualized it as an
"Anti-Flambe!" - a poke at one of my wife's fanfics. I suppose in some
ways it still is.
3. Doctor Lecter's Italian comes from Dante Alighieri's "Divine Comedy,"
Inferno, Canto 2, verses 52 - 55, and 70 - 79. A translation follows,
courtesy of Robert M. Durling and Oxford University Press, 1996. As
might be noted, Lecter has taken the verses out of context that he might
apply his beloved Italian poetry to his fascination with Akane.
"I was among those who were suspended, and a lady
called me, so blessed and beautiful that I begged
her to command me.
Her eyes were shining brighter than the Morning Star;
and she began to speak softly and gently, with
angelic voice, in her language
...'I am Beatrice who cause you to go; I come from
the place where I long to return; love has moved
me and makes me speak.
When I shall be before my lord, I will praise you
frequently to him.' Then she was silent, and I began:
'O lady of power, through whom alone the human
race rises above all the contents of that heaven whose
circles are smallest,
so pleasing to me is your command that obeying,
had it already taken place, is slow; no more is
needed than to unfold your desire.'"
Free The Nukes!