Читать книгу The Crepe Makers' Bond - Julie Crabtree - Страница 8

Prologue

Earthquake

The earthquake started like they always do. Suddenly. Nicki and M were sitting on barstools watching me fold wontons one minute; the next second we were all thrown on the floor. I instinctively crouched against the cabinets as the wavelike motion of the earth rattled the flour canister off the counter. It hit my arm on its way down. My hearing became incredibly sharp and I instantly registered clacking silverware, pots and pans jingling deep within the cabinets, glasses and bowls clattering delicately, and the jarring blare of dozens of car alarms outside. My own sharp breathing was loudest of all. The floor’s vibration traveled through my knees and hummed in my belly. Shredded carrots and a wonton wrapper tumbled from the counter and landed next to me.

M yelled, “Stay down, Nicki!”

I heard Nicki say something but the fruit bowl clattered to the ground just then and I couldn’t make out her words, only the fear. An apple rolled to a stop against my leg and, insanely, I wondered if the fall had bruised it.

Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. I stood up cautiously and peeked out the window. A hose reel had tumbled onto my mother’s border of violets, smashing their delicate purple heads into the dirt. Our neighbor’s wind chime had fallen and shattered.

Nicki’s voice startled me out of my trance. “Are you both okay?”

I looked over at M, who was picking up paper napkins that had dropped to the floor with the first jolt. She nodded. No one said anything else. It was one of those weird frozen-in-time moments, like we were just hovering in space. I realized it was the absolute motionlessness of the earth that created this sensation.

There is no more complete feeling of stillness than right after an earthquake. You can’t imagine how stable ground feels like such a gift. You want to trust it, but you can’t. There are always aftershocks, little jolts and pulses beneath your feet reminding you that nothing is ever completely reliable. Not even the ground under your feet.

In my mind I always see that day, the day of the quake, as the point when things began to shift between me and M and Nicki. I began to see everything that happened as either before the quake or after the quake. It marked the start of the hardest year of my life. Well, my life so far.

It’s funny that the quake became such a turning point for me because it was only a medium strength earthquake. No one in Alameda or anywhere else was killed. The broken stuff got swept up and thrown away, the cabinets got straightened, and everyone’s stories of where they were and what they were doing when it hit were told and then forgotten. But I still think of the quake as something that started a chain reaction somehow. Like the universe was trying to tell me something about the next few months.

I know none of this makes sense now. Maybe it will later on.

Shaky Ground Stuffed Wontons with Peanut Sauce

1 package small, square wonton wrappers (in the produce

section usually, refrigerated)

½ C. peanut oil

1 small bag shredded carrots

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and chopped

(pre-cooked or even deli chicken works if you’re in a

hurry)

¼ C. honey-roasted peanuts, chopped

½ C. bottled peanut sauce (in the Asian food section)

Toss carrots, chicken, peanuts and ¼ C. peanut sauce in a bowl. Stuff the wontons by putting a heaping tablespoon of filling in the middle of each square, then folding it over so the ends come together to form a triangle. Use wet fingers (have a bowl with water near to dip your fingers in) to seal the edges together. You can also use a fork to make little crimps around the edges, which looks pretty but is more time-consuming. Heat oil in a skillet until very hot (flick a drop of water in it, and if it immediately sizzles, it’s hot enough). Cook wontons about a minute on each side, until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Can serve hot or at room temperature. Arrange on a tray with a little bowl of remaining peanut sauce for dipping.