Annie LX: Decadence

(Chronological index: High School (1st time for Raymond, 2nd time for Annie))

"You know," she whispered, "it's possible to make your own marshmallows."

Raymond lowered the two bags he was comparing to stare down at his shirt pocket. "Really?"

"Really."

"Do we need special equipment?" He was imagining some pressurized pipes to produce the typical cylinders of sugary gel.

"My aunt made them once," she replied. "You mix stuff up, pour it into a baking pan and let it cool. Then she used a pizza cutter to make squares." She waited three seconds. His expression adopted the thousand-sliderule stare she knew so well.

"So, if you want tiny, sylph-sized marshmallows, you spread them thin," she continued. "If you want really big ones, you fill a coffee mug."

"Close," he nodded. "But you have the adjectives reversed." He turned to smile down at his pet. "The sylph-sized marshmallow would be the one in the coffee mug."

She smiled and clapped her hands.

-----

The recipe was easy enough to find. Mom had a cookbook shelf bigger than their entertainment console. She stared in the general direction of her collection when they asked.

After a moment of silence, Raymond shrugged and asked, "Can you at least suggest a few books to start looking?"

"Oh, I know exactly where to find a recipe," she said. "I'm just trying to figure out if cooking marshmallows can possibly threaten my last rose bush."

Annie giggled at that remark, as the most recent plant death was not her fault. Mostly not her fault.

She found the marshmallow recipe in the index as she walked across, then insisted on finding the page herself.

Inventory was quickly accomplished. Raymond assembled ingredients as Annie shouted them out. There was one indulgent delay. When the sylph discovered two kinds of sugar were used, her happy dance made Snoopy's look apathetic.

"Looks like you don't need any more sugar," Raymond said. He lifted one side of the cookbook to shut it.

"No-no-no!" Annie protested, backpedaling but not jumping clear. "No, sugar is good for sylphs! Concentrated energy for tiny but furious metabolisms!"

The pages got closer and closer, looming overhead. "Please!" she pleaded. "Even as a one-time experiment? Just so we know- AIEEEE!"

She dove out of the book, landing on all fours on the counter. She was up in an instant, running to grab his free hand around the wrist.

"Please, Raymond? I need this! You owe me!"

"Why do I owe you?" he asked.

"You..." He tried to keep a straight face as her eyes shifted from side to side. "You made me..." She suddenly rocked back on her heels and stared up at her master.

"You made me spy-"

"Okay!" he agreed.

"Spy?" Mom asked from where she sat.

"That's classified," Raymond replied.

"Was a girl involved?" Mom asked.

"Yes," Annie said quickly. Raymond stared. Mrs. Kleinkopf was, technically, a female of the species. So reviewing her schedule to find out which day the surprise quiz would be involved a girl. A fifty-two year old 'girl.'

Mom, completely misreading her teenage son's area of interest, sat back and sipped her tea with a smug expression.

Annie winked and turned to the cookbook. "It's on page-" She paused as Raymond opened the book. His thumb had kept the place.

The two shared a smile then went back to collecting ingredients.

-------

They oiled simply everything. Mixing bowls, spatulas, mixer blades. Mallow still stretched from object to object, long strings of stickiness.

"Looks like Spiderman...sneezed," Annie amended after a glance towards Mom. She had a rope of white connecting her to the mixing bowl and the bundt pan.

Powdered sugar dusted her hair and shoulders, and caked her feet to the ankles.

Raymond looked like he'd tried to mug the Lucky Charms Leprechaun. His shirt stuck to his hair and his hands were almost magnetically attached to the spatula.

Mom had assured them that the stuff would come off with warm, soapy water. Annie looked forward to a long, hot bath in the upstairs sink. What her minion would do with his clothing was not her concern.

"Mom?" Raymond called, waving his sugar-coated hand in the air.

"Mom's not coming near either of you," she replied.

"I need to make room in the fridge for the two pans to cool. I can do it-"

"I'll get it!" Mom shouted, hurrying to clear space. "You'll get stuck to the milk." She surveyed the interior. "Two baking pans?"

"One cookie sheet," Raymond said. "For hot-chocolate marshmallows." Mom nodded her head at that idea. "And one bundt pan."

"One what?"

Annie twisted one leg as The Mom stared down at her. "I wanted a Marshmallow Fort. This seemed..."

"It's quicker than building one like an igloo," Raymond said. Mom's eyes tracked up to him, then down again. Then they rolled up as she shook her head.

-------

Mom slipped plastic shopping bags over Raymond's hands. "Erma Bombeck had this idea after her kids visited a nuclear reactor at school. It keeps the contaminants from spreading between the accident site and the decontamination station."

He carefully lifted the plastic cup that held his sylph and walked up the stairs.

She climbed out as he started the water. Small staking lines on the faucets marked the best mix of hot and cold water for her comfort. She picked at the glob of sugar on her arm, then walked over and turned the heat up a little bit.

Raymond took off his clothes and lowered them into a plastic garbage bag. She watched his hands. He was pretending to remove nuclear or chemical contaminated clothes, she suspected.

He was trying to undress without ever letting his plastic 'gloves' touch his bare skin.

The water reached the proper depth so she leaned on the faucets. Then she found her soap sliver, tucked it under her arm and slid down the side.

The sylph stretched out to let the water soak at the sugar, idly applying lather here and there.

Behind her and beyond the rim of the sink, mild cursing sounded during the attempts to shake the decon gloves off. She smiled, imagining that the stuff was pretty much welded to his skin by now.

Before she broke into laughter, though, she took a breath and sank below the ripples.

-----

The kitchen cleanup was finished by the time the shallow marshmallows had cooled. Raymond cut them up and made cocoa for all.

The family went and stood on the porch in the 62 degree Florida winter to get into the mood for drink, then announced it to be very tasty. Raymond and his pet beamed.

Then Dad went into the garage to work on some secret project and Mom found all the places they'd missed during the cleaning.

Raymond graciously left Annie out of the second and third decontamination efforts. She sat on the counter by the fridge, waiting impatiently.

"Maybe it's done now?"

"Annie, the cake pan is about twelve times as deep as the cookie sheet. It's going to take hours more."

"It's been hours more."

"It's been forty five minutes more."

"So it's not worth checking?"

Raymond's sigh of defeat came up from about his knees. He put the sponge back in the sink and slouched over to the fridge. He barely opened the door until the light flickered on, then shut it. "Nope, not done."

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN CHECK!"

"There's no POINT in checking, it's not DONE!"

"Raymond?" Mom called from the living room. "Are there any bubbles coming out of the marshmallow?"

Bubbles? Annie thought. The whole thing's basically a froth that gels. It's made of bubbles. But Raymond hadn't thought that through. He just shrugged and opened the fridge to check.

Annie leaped across the space to his shoulder. He reflexively grabbed her before she could slide off. And as long as he was checking... He held her beside the pan. Her pan. Her destiny.

It wasn't done yet. She sighed, much more happily than her master had, and relaxed in his grip as he reported the lack of bubblage to Mom.

----------

The unveiling was a family event. They had dinner, then dimmed the lights and cleared a spot on the counter.

Mom placed the sylph down in the middle of a serving platter. Raymond tipped the pan over so the opening was centered on his pet.

She watched him shake, bouncing in excitement, barely breathing. The bundtmallow fort finally slipped from the pan and flumphed down. Clouds of powdered sugar came at her from all directions.

The pan cleared and her fortress was left, a dull white ring in every direction she looked.

"Oh, Raymond," she purred. "It's perfect."

"Beginner's luck," Mom said.

"Nonsense," Dad replied. "The universe spoils our Annie. Just as we do."

"How much do we get?" Raymond asked.

"Oh, it makes my teeth ache just looking at it," Mom said. "I don't want any."

"Wimp," Annie muttered under her breath. Then a shadow covered her. She looked up in time to see Dad lowering something towards her. She tried to duck.

A finger against her spine straightened her up as he lowered a helmet onto her noggin. There was a click and a light came on.

"You made her a miner's helmet!" Mom said cheerfully. Annie twisted her head back and forth. Something he'd stuffed into the dome clung to her head.

She flashed a thumbs up to her benefactor. There was a camera flash. She blinked for a while.

"So," Dad's voice said in the star-shaped darkness. "I guess the fort belongs to the two of you."

"Freeze whatever's left," Mom said as the adults left the kitchen.

Raymond lowered a tiny spoon to his sylph. In Annie's hands, it looked like a shovel. She was still half-blind but secure in the knowledge that she could not miss her target.

"I suppose you want half?" she asked.

"I'll take a slice to make brownies with," he said. "After you're done." There was a pause. "And maybe a slice or two today and tomorrow."

She giggled. "It's almost a shame to dig into-" Instantly, the shadowy hand of her master started to invade the air space over her position. "ALMOST!" she protested. She waved the spoon around until the shadow retreated. "Alright, then."

She lifted the spoon and struck at the wall. The leading edge bounced off, knocking her backwards.

The same hand dipped, catching her before she could fall. "Allow me," he said. He took the spoon, scooped a bite out and held it to her face.

Annie smiled, nodded, and took a bite. "MMMmmm," she judged. "Moo faffa takka beet, foo."

"I will," he said. "I will."

-------

Years later, Pet and Denise sat beside Annie as she told the story of the Marshmallow Fort. All three were cuddled under one blanket in the woven carrier.

Ray had gone down to the desk to find out why the motel room had no heat.

Denise had waxed nostalgic about hot chocolate she used to make for her and Pet. Annie had been reminded of the Marshmallow Fort. The story kept all three sylphs' minds off of the chill.

Pet sighed and sank down against Annie's shoulder. Denise tucked the blanket a bit tighter about their legs. They were silent for a moment, then...

"Annie?"

"Yes, Pet?"

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"Of course you can, Pet."

"Annie? Tell us about the brownies?"

"Oh, well, Raymond carefully sliced off a wedge the size of a slice of pie. Then, he searched through seven of Mom's cookbooks for the perfect recipe....."

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