A Crunchy Meal

His name is John, and he is such…a character. He is probably in his fifties, but still active, mostly when he’s playing cards.

   One day, luck found him during a card game. He won some good amount of cash, enough to buy rice for the dinner. Because he wanted to continue playing, he handed some money to his darling Miriam, to buy some rice for the night.

   After a while, he decided that he must go home to his family. His stomach rumbled as hunger terrorised the smooth muscle in search of some food to work on. Pocketing his last of the winnings into his dirty khaki short, he headed home. His wife and their two little girls had already gone to bed when he arrived home, tired and hungry.

   The faint yellow beams of light from the small tin lamp fought with the darkness, struggling to illuminate the house as he opened the door and stepped in. As the door closed quietly behind him, he tiptoed to the kitchen, not wanting to wake his dear Miriam and the kids.

   In the kitchen, he fumbled in the dark, and located his plate of rice. His mouth watered as he looked down at the food. It was white rice with aupa kumu, both topped with Indomie noodles that was mixed with Diana tinned tuna chunks.

   He sat down on the wooden stool, and took a bite at the kumu. He knew instantly that some tasty flavour was missing – salt. He fumbled again in the dark, and managed to grab the salt packet. Sprinkling it onto the aupa, and began eating.

   A single bite, and still there was no taste of salt. He sprinkled some more salt on and tasted it, but nothing changed. Hunger collided with frustration, as he emptied the packet of salt onto his food. He mixed the salt thoroughly with the aupa, rice and stew, and continued eating, though still not able to appreciate the salty flavour. “The salt has lost its savour,” he mumbled between bites.

   The rice was both soft and crunchy. He was crunching the rice as if crunching uncooked noodles. But since he was so hungry, he allow the sound of the crunch to pierce the silence of the house, as he transferred the rice to his rumbling stomach. Then, with a gulp of Tang juice, he washed the remnant of the rice in his mouth into the stomach.

   Finally, he retired for the night, tired but not hungry.

   He woke up the next morning to the sound of his dearest Miriam. From the tone of her voice, he could make out that she was cross.

   Sleepily, he got up and sat at the edge of the bed. He could hear Miriam interrogating their two little girls. “OK girls, who took the half-packet rice I left on the table yesterday?”

   Tears rolling down their cheeks,  the pair shook their heads.

   Then savvy struck John’s mind, lighting up his face with a smiling guilt. It was a realization that saved her girls from being spanked.

   “It was me,” he muttered sheepishly.

   “How could you, John?” Miriam looked confused.

   “It was dark, and I couldn’t see!”