American Chordata: Magazine of New Writing Issue One, Spring 2015 | Page 31

m o n l e vc h e n kova

Austrian Alps, 2014

13 • FICTION

graphs.
“Look,” I say, pointing. “Here’s a recipe for of bananas baked
with ham. This is what people were eating in the seventies.”
“I just want you to be happy,” he says.
I do all the things that will show him I am happy. I make
recipes for a growing family in the 1970s, as well as recipes from
other cookbooks I have brought home. I have collections of meals
from a Spanish castle, a Vietnamese village, and a Japanese TV
chef. Cilantro on my fingers becomes my new favorite scent. I keep
the house clean and the bed made and the bright side on my face.
When plaster falls from the ceiling, I sweep the floor and throw
out the debris.
At the library, Ellen asks me what my five-year plan is.
I ask her how one goes about making a five-year plan.
“You have to start with a vision,” she says, “of where you want
to be in five years. That’s your objective. Then, you decide what
you will do during each year to help you meet your objective. Those
are your goals. They should be small, measurable, and achievable.
And you should put them on a spreadsheet.”
“If you know a goal is achievable, does that still count as a goal?”
“Knowing that something is achievable is very different from
achieving it.”
This is true, and we think about this quietly.
Maurice throws a pencil at us from the other side of the table.
It clatters against the fake wood laminate. “Hey, dimwits. How
about a little focus?”
Although Ellen and Maurice started out strangers, they are
becoming more and more beautiful. Ellen has a frail face and gray
hair, but her curls are tight and vibrant. She has dyed a lock of it
bright blue and the neon streak hangs over her right ear. Maurice
is bulky with a large head that sinks down into his chest. He looks
like he has no neck. At first he is intimidating, but now I am
charmed by his smile, which brings out two deep dimples in the
middle of his cheeks. His size has made him shy and embarrassed
but, since we are his friends, he is not afraid to throw pencils at us
to keep us focused.