February 2021 Flash Lit 2 - It's the Cheesiest

“—also they live on cheese” Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

“Come on in,” Cal said, taking the tray of cheeses from Butterfly.  “The game is on soon.”

 

“Great!” Butterfly said.  “But I need to slice this…”  She held up the baguettes.

 

“Kitchen first then!” Cal suggested.

 

Butterfly wove through the knots and tangles of people, past the crowded couch and the dining table full of snacks and a few toys to find the kitchen just as full of humanity, plus a vat of chili and several coolers of beer and soda and juice.  She didn’t really know anyone except the Elwood-Castanedas, although she thought that a few of the people looked familiar from the neighborhood.  A man who looked like a slightly younger version of Cal cleared a space for her at the counter and introduced himself, “Miguel, Cal’s brother.”

 

“Butterfly, next door neighbor,” she replied and tried not to bump him with her elbows too much as she cut the bread and piled it into the red basket she had brought.

 

“Who are you rooting for?” Miguel asked, conversationally.

 

“Um…”

 

“Not a fan, then.”

 

“I like parties and food and cheering when everyone else is…”

 

“Fair enough,” he said.  “But don’t tell Charlie.  Her team didn’t make it to the Superbowl, but she has Opinions.”  Butterfly had noticed:  the bright yellow wedge of rubber cheese on Charlie’s head was a hard-to-miss clue.

 

Butterfly had just placed the basket next to her tray when Amanda and Alastair arrived.  Alastair dutifully carried Amanda’s contribution to the feast, Triscuits and a nut-crusted cheese ball of the kind Butterfly hadn’t seen since she was a child.  He, too, was dressed to support a team not playing, a black Jim Otto Raiders jersey over his windowpane check shirt and gray slacks.  Amanda wore a pale yellow sweater set and a navy skirt as if she were headed to work for Perry Mason rather than watch sports.  She sniffed as she made space on the table for the cheese ball.  Cinny and Ches and a shoal of other kids schooled in and out through the adults, Ches pausing for a moment to tell Butterfly, “Mouse.”  She nodded and he shyly showed her the plastic Mickey Mouse figure in his hand.  “Baby,” he said.

 

“Meow!” said Cinny and Ches was off under the table, where he had made a nest of blankets.

 

Conversations stopped briefly when the game kicked off, but soon Butterfly heard snippets ranging from greatest quarterbacks to best organic oatmeals, all punctuated by various animal noises as the kids shape-shifted from one to the next.

 

Several hours later, one team had won and the other had cried.  There was no more chili.  Amanda stood up from the straight-backed chair in which she had sat all afternoon happily disapproving of everything to find her cheeseball still on the dining room table, untouched except for a Mickey Mouse plunged headfirst into it.

 

“Ches said it was the cheesiest,” Cinny explained.  “For his baby.”