Chili Con Corpses (4 page)

“Good idea, Professor,” Francis replied in his customary upbeat manner.

James headed into his office and booted up his computer. Along with the other supper club members, he had received an e-mail from Lindy reminding them all to reserve their space for the Saturday evening Fix ’n Freeze class. James sent his reservation by e-mail and immediately felt his bad mood start to dissipate. A few moments later, the owner of the new business wrote him back.

Dear Mr. Henry,

Welcome to Fix ’n Freeze! Please bring an apron with you on Saturday and prepare to have a great time. We will be cooking chicken enchiladas as we snack on black bean dip, fresh salsa, and homemade tortilla chips. (Miss Perez told me that your group of friends is using my class as a “night off” from dieting. I’m honored to be able to tempt you all with sumptuous, homemade food!) See you at 5:00 p.m.

Sincerely, Camilla Fields,

Head Chef, Fix ’n Freeze

James smiled as he read the e-mail. Chicken enchiladas! That was precisely the meal he had been fantasizing about earlier.
Guess I’m lucky
, he thought.
I don’t need a lotto ticket. I’m going to taste Mexico and Spain for only $199. And I won’t have to cook for Pop for ten whole nights. That in itself might be worth a hundred thousand dollars.

“Come in from the cold, my friends,” Mrs. Fields said, opening wide the front door of the Fix ’n Freeze cooking classroom. “Since I’ve got even colder bottles of
cerveza
inside.” She patted James on the back. “Take off your jacket, handsome. There’s a coat tree over there in the corner.”

James smiled at the tiny woman wearing a yellow apron that said
Some things are better rich: coffee, chocolate, and men
. Camilla Fields looked to be in her mid sixties. An abundance of curly and rather colorless blonde hair poked from beneath the edges of a white baseball cap that said
CHEF
in bold letters. Her eyes were a silvery blue and her smile felt so warm that James felt immediately at home in her presence.

“The first rule is that we’re all here to enjoy food and each other! No debating over politics, religion, or anything serious,” Mrs. Fields announced cheerfully. “There are name tags on the side table near the coatrack. I’ll only need them this one time and then I’ll have you all stored in my mental files,” she said and tapped the side of her head. “You can call me Milla. After you’ve hung up your coats and put on a tag, gather around the butcher block and let’s have a toast to the commencement of our gastronomic voyage to Mexico and Spain!”

As James hung up Lucy’s coat, the front door opened again and in walked Murphy and the Willis twins. All three wore dark jeans and tight sweaters. The blondes looked stunning in black turtlenecks and Murphy wore a white V-neck with a choker made of rough-cut turquoise. James smiled at her and waved at the two sisters.

One of the twins then turned back to the door and cast a dazzling smile in the direction of a tall, attractive man in a leather coat and faded blue jeans. After he removed his coat and kissed the waiting sister lightly on the lips, he shook hands with Murphy and Kinsley, as though it were the first time he was meeting both of them.

“Ah, here are the other members of our class!” Camilla drew the foursome into the room. “Now, we can have our toast.”

James was too busy helping himself to a Corona with lime to notice Lucy glaring at the newcomers. He filled a warm tortilla chip with a load of black bean dip topped with sour cream and a sprinkling of fresh chives and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he took in his surroundings. Fix ’n Freeze had taken over a small historic building that had once housed a gift shop. Milla explained that she had simply emptied the downstairs and separated the space into an open cooking area and a section devoted to a pantry, fridge, and two chest freezers.

“I can’t tell you how surprised I was to find out what a walk-in fridge costs! Lord, you could’ve blown me over with a feather! Good thing my husband left me a big enough nest egg that I could take a risk and start my own business, ’cause I’m not
quite
ready to sit in a rocking chair and knit ugly socks.” She laughed and the members of her first class joined in. Her joie de vivre was contagious. She reminded James of Willy. He wondered if there was some secret to happiness in owning a small business related to food.

“I’ll wrap up before I bore you to death or you demand a refund by telling you that I live upstairs with the love of my life,” Milla continued. “He’s a corgi called Charles, after the Prince of Wales—that was back before I knew about him cheating on Diana, you see. So if you have any food emergencies—like the time Charles climbed up on a dining room chair and ate our Thanksgiving turkey—you know where to find me.”

“I like the colors in here,” Lindy said when Milla was done, gesturing at the mango-colored walls and the celery-green countertops. Piñatas in the form of sombreros, donkeys, and bulls dangled from ropes of yarn in equally vibrant hues. Lindy scooped up some fresh salsa from the wooden bowl on the butcher block and groaned happily. “Fresh cilantro?” she asked when her mouth was empty.

“Very good, my dear. A star pupil already!” Milla winked.

Lindy beamed as Gillian introduced herself to Parker, Kinsley, and the good-looking young man who identified himself as Colin Crabtree, a large-animal vet and Parker’s boyfriend. Gillian, Parker, and Colin immediately began to talk about animals. Their subjects ranged from grooming practices to which dog breeds were the worst clients, while Colin told humorous tales about having to sedate enormous bulls and about how he first learned to shear sheep. In the meantime, Bennett flirted shyly with Kinsley while James concentrated on the black bean dip. He offered Lucy the bowl of tortilla chips but she shook her head no.

“Has everyone lined their bellies with something?” Milla asked. “Good! Let’s don our aprons and prepare to make some mouth-watering enchiladas. Go on and pick a cooking station, and we’ll get down to business.”

Camilla described the contents of the small metal bins in front of each cooking station. “These are your ingredients for this dish. I’ll lead you step by step through the assembly process. Then we’ll pop our entrées in the oven and socialize for a bit.”

As James ripped pieces of chicken from the breast set before him, he felt completely content. His friends chattered amiably and Milla circulated the room, patting backs and complimenting chopping or sautéing techniques until every person felt like a budding Emeril Lagasse.

“You okay?” James asked Lucy, who had been unusually quiet.

“Sure,” she replied hastily. “I’m just thinking about how I’m not going to be able to eat a bite of this dish. It’s too fattening, and I’m on a pretty strict routine right now.”

James slowed in the middle of stirring the onion and garlic sautéing in the pan on the stovetop he shared with Murphy, who was at the counter space across from him. They each had two burners and seemed to be in perfect sync as they added green chilies to their pans, their movements mirroring one another. Tantalizing aromas from the onions and garlic filled the air. Kinsley’s eyes watered and she dabbed at them with a napkin while Parker teased her for being “such a sensitive girl.”

“What are you going to do with these enchiladas then?” James asked Lucy.

She shrugged. “Bring them to work. Those boys’ll eat anything that’s not nailed down.” Lucy concentrated on the pan in front of her and added, “But I’m not sure if this class is the best idea for me right now.”

At first, James didn’t reply, as he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he said, rather lamely, “But we’re only indulging once a week. It can’t be
that
bad for us.” Listening to himself, James felt as though his answer was a bit argumentative, so he hastily added, “Besides, we’d all miss you, Lucy.” Then he turned his attention back to his enchiladas.

The class flew by. Before he knew it, their dishes were cooking away in the wall ovens while people cleaned their spaces and talked. Once their individual cooking areas were tidied, Milla gathered them all by the butcher’s block and they gave themselves a round of applause while she passed around a plate of crescent-shaped Mexican wedding cookies.

“I know these are delicious, my friends.” Milla bit into a cookie. “Don’t worry, we’ll make them in a future class. I’m a big believer in finishing a meal with dessert.”

After the oven timers went off and the aluminum pans had cooled enough to be loaded into cardboard boxes, the group untied their aprons and thanked Milla heartily. It was apparent that everyone had enjoyed their first Fix ’n Freeze experience.

As James handed Lindy her leather jacket, he noticed a dark look on her face.

“What’s up, Lindy? Didn’t you have fun?” he asked as they stepped outside.

Lindy shrugged her coat on. “Oh, I
loved
the class, James. I just don’t know if I can come again.”

James was shocked. “Not you, too! Lucy doesn’t think she can do this because of her fitness training, but why you? Is it the food?”

“No. The menus are totally wonderful.” She lowered her voice. “It’s the company I have a problem with.”

“The company?” James asked dumbly. “It must be Murphy, Colin, or one of the twins then. Unless you’ve suddenly developed a distaste for one of us.”

“It’s the bimbo twin named Kinsley,” Lindy hissed. “She thinks
my
Principal Chavez is cute! She even asked Murphy if he was single! And, she’s going to be taking over for Mrs. Harding, who just started her maternity leave! That means she’ll be roaming the high school halls every day starting this Monday!” Her voice shook with agitation. Though Lindy wasn’t aware of it, the rest of the class members had also retrieved their belongings and were now passing by her as she practically yelled, “Mark my words, James—and this is
not
just my Brazilian temper talking—that if she goes anywhere near Luis Chavez, I will
kill
her!”

Milla’s Mexican Chicken Enchiladas

3 tablespoons canola oil

11⁄2 pounds skinless boneless chicken breast

salt and pepper

2 teaspoons cumin

2 teaspoons garlic powder

1⁄8 teaspoon allspice

1⁄4 teaspoon coriander

1 onion, chopped fine

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 cup corn

5 whole green chilies, canned

4 chipotle chilies, canned

1 small can (41⁄4 ounces) diced black olives

1 can (28 ounces) stewed tomatoes

3 tablespoons flour

12 (8-inch) flour or corn tortillas

11⁄2 cups premade enchilada sauce (Milla likes Las Palmas, but use what you can find)

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (Milla prefers “Taco” cheese blend, but it’s up to you)

chopped cilantro, chopped scallions, dollops of sour cream, according to your taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a large frying pan with oil. Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Brown the chicken over medium heat, approximately 7 minutes for each side or until it is no longer pink. Blend the cumin, garlic powder, allspice and coriander, and dust the chicken with the spices before turning. Remove it from the pan and allow it to cool. Sauté the onion and garlic in the chicken drippings until tender. Add the corn and chilies. Stir well. Add the olives and canned tomatoes. Sauté for 1 minute. Pull the cooked chicken into shredded strips. Add the shredded chicken to the sauté pan, and combine it with the vegetables. Dust the mixture with flour to help it set.

Microwave the tortillas for 30 seconds. Coat the bottom of 2 (13 × 9-inch) pans with about 4 tablespoons of enchilada sauce. Using a shallow bowl, dip each tortilla in enchilada sauce to lightly coat it. Spoon 1⁄4 cup chicken mixture into each tortilla. Fold over the filling, and place 6 enchiladas in each pan with the seam side down. Top with the remaining enchilada sauce and cheese. Bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees until the cheese melts. Garnish with dollops of sour cream, chopped scallions, and, if you like, some chopped cilantro as well. Enjoy and don’t plan on being hungry for a few hours after eating these!

By Monday, James
and Jackson had polished off the enchiladas and were both eagerly awaiting Milla’s next class. According to the menu, they were going to be cooking Spanish pork chops and vegetable paella.

“Y’all are finally doin’ somethin’ worth a lick in that food club of yours,” Jackson commented after he had polished off his first helping of enchiladas. “This here is a real meal. It sits in your belly and makes itself known. If you made us another salad I was gonna have to go out and buy me a goat to feed it to. Still, you could try and git that teacher of yours to cook some good ole Southern food.”

“You don’t seem to be suffering too much over this particular south-of-the-border dish, Pop,” James retorted, grinning. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Maybe I’ll hire her to come teach
you
how to cook a few meals. It’s never too late to learn your way around the kitchen, and now that you’ve fixed it up so nicely, it seems a shame that only one of us is using it.”

Jackson raised his hairy eyebrows. “At my age? Why should I start cookin’?” He pushed his empty plate away. “You goin’ somewhere or somethin’?”

“No.” James shrugged. “But I might not always be living here. Besides, I think you would really like Milla. Everybody does.”

“What do you mean ‘might’ not always live here?” Jackson looked concerned. James was surprised that his offhand comment disturbed his father. He had momentarily forgotten that Jackson’s reclusive nature made him completely dependent on his son. “You thinkin’ of marrying that girl of yours?” Jackson wondered.

The fork dripping melted cheese that was headed for James’s open mouth paused in mid-air. “Um … no.”

Jackson leaned forward and stared hard at his son. “In my day, men courted a gal and then married her. Mostly they did it so they could finally git under her skirt, but still, that’s how things were done. You’ve been courtin’ for a long time now, boy, so either you don’t love the girl or you’ve already got under her skirt.”

“Pop!” James was flabbergasted. “I’m trying to eat!”

“Hrmph!” his father snorted. “You’ve never had a problem with that. So, about what I was saying,” he pursued relentlessly. “Which is it? You don’t love her or it’s the ole why-buy-the-cow-when-you’re-gettin’-the-milk-for-free type of thinkin’?”

James snapped, “I’m not getting any milk!” He then colored and mumbled, “And I’m not too sure about the love thing, either.”

Before his father could embark upon a full-blown lecture on his son’s lack of masculine prowess, the phone rang. James practically toppled the kitchen table in his haste to answer it.

“I need a
huge
favor, James!” Lindy’s exuberant voice rang out from the earpiece.

“Anything,” James said hurriedly and turned his back on the quizzical look on Jackson’s face.

“I need you to chaperone my field trip to Luray Caverns this week,” she pleaded and then rushed on. “None of my class parents volunteered, and we’ve been given special permission to stay inside the caves after regular visiting hours. My art students are working on a unit called ‘Texture and Shadow,’ and the Caverns are the perfect place to go. Please say yes, James. I’m really desperate! If I don’t get enough adults, then I’ll have to cancel the whole trip, and I set it up almost a year ago.”

James groaned. He couldn’t think of a more miserable pairing than a pack of high school students and a cold, damp cave. Eyeing his father once more, who still sat expectantly at the table with his scrawny arms folded across his chest, James said a silent prayer of thanks that he had replaced their ancient rotary phone with a portable type and headed up to his room.

“Everyone else in the supper club has agreed to help, even though they’ll all have to cut out of work a bit early,” Lindy added for good measure. “See? You’ve forced me to try and guilt you into this, even though I know that doesn’t affect you Methodists as well as us Catholics.” She giggled.

“Why so many chaperones?” James tried to stall. “How many kids do you have in your art class?” He shut his bedroom door and settled onto his bed.

“Because
all
of my art students are going—from every grade.” Lindy paused, sensing that she had yet to hook her fish. “What if I told you that you didn’t have to ride with us on the bus and that dinner is free? We’re having an early meal at Johnny Appleseed before we head underground.
No
one can resist Johnny Appleseed.”

James was torn between the thought of Johnny Appleseed’s famous homemade fritters rolling in a shallow bowl of powdered sugar and his unwillingness to view the caverns again. Though they were truly an amazing sight, James had grown up near enough to the famous attraction that he had already visited it a half-dozen times. What he remembered most from his student field trips to Luray Caverns were the endless nooks where hormone-crazed teenagers strived to have educational experiences beyond learning the difference between a stalactite and a stalagmite.

He doubted much had changed in the behavior of high school kids left to their own devices in the dark, and he hated the notion of being in charge of sneaking up on a pair of them as they groped each another in the lightless shelter of some rock formation. Even worse was the thought of a verbal confrontation with two teenagers. He might be forced to pry them apart, and he imagined that would be akin to separating a bulldog from its grip on a rabbit’s neck. James grimaced with distaste at the thought.

“Think of the apple fritters, James,” Lindy taunted. “Still warm from the oven.”

James
was
thinking of the fritters. He hadn’t tasted one in years. “Okay. I’ll do it for you, Lindy.”

“Bless you! Now I just need Principal Chavez and maybe one or two more people. I’ll ask the school librarian and maybe one of my parents will come through. If not, I can always see if Willy’s free. Meet us at the restaurant at five on Thursday. I’ll have a whole basket of fritters just waiting for you.”

Lindy was true to her word. James pulled into the parking lot a few minutes past five and parked the Bronco alongside three black and red Blue Ridge High buses. He took a deep breath and walked into the restaurant, expecting to hear the rowdy cacophony of a large group of teenagers enclosed in a small space. Instead, he saw that the students were seated by tables of four or six and were talking quietly as they sipped sodas or munched on fritters. The adults were all gathered at the largest table and James was surprised to see the shiny blonde halo belonging to one of the Willis twins among the chaperones. He also didn’t see Lucy among the adults.

The only empty chair was between Lindy and an elderly gentleman, so James took his seat and immediately helped himself to a fritter. Pressing the crusty pastry, which was ripe with the fragrance of baked apples, into a pool of powdered sugar, he waved to Gillian and Bennett and then popped the fritter into his mouth. “Delicious,” he said to Lindy, who looked uncommonly cross. “Where’s Lucy?”

“She blew us off at the last minute,” Lindy frowned. “Said she couldn’t miss her body-shaping class at the Y.”

“I’m sorry, Lindy.” James didn’t know why he was apologizing for Lucy, but he felt irrationally responsible for her behavior. “She cancelled our last dinner date as well,” he confessed ruefully. “For Pilates, I think.”

As he sipped his ice water, James noticed that the Willis sister—whether it was Parker or Kinsley he couldn’t tell—sat next to Principal Chavez. They were sharing a dish of fritters and talking animatedly. “Which sister is that?” James whispered to Lindy.

“I’m assuming she’s Kinsley,” Lindy muttered unhappily. “She only starting teaching four days ago, but I guess she didn’t want to waste any time making a move on Luis.”

“But didn’t you arrange for the chaperones?” James was confused. A waitress stopped by and he ordered sweet tea and the turkey platter with mashed sweet potatoes and black-eyed peas. “Why include her if you’re worried about her charming your principal?”

Lindy ordered a cheeseburger and a garden salad and then turned and answered James’s question. “Yes, I recruited all of these folks, but the librarian came down with a nasty cold so she couldn’t come. She must have asked Kinsley to fill in for her, and then Adam Sneed’s grandfather just showed up out of the blue and volunteered to help out. Said he was visiting from St. Louis and would love to see our famous caves.”

“That’s the guy on my right?” James asked, and when Lindy nodded he said, “What’s his name?”

“Mr. Sneed. He kind of mumbles when he talks, which isn’t much. I wish you’d break the ice with him so I can thank him properly. Every time I go near him, he kind of shies away.” Lindy popped a fritter in her mouth and chewed mechanically, looking miserable.

As dinner was served, James said hello to his neighbor on the right. The older man was wearing a pair of enormous square sunglasses that James believed were used by people with cataracts, a ratty tweed blazer, and a turtleneck. His face was especially wrinkled around the eyes, and deep lines were etched into his prominent forehead. He had a dramatically hooked nose and his skin seemed to have a slightly orange hue. Most of his hair was hidden beneath a tan fishing hat in which a single black and red fly was hooked.

After reaching in front of James to help himself to the saltshaker, the man cleared his throat and, in a gravelly voice, said, “I’m Mr. Sneed. Pleased to meet you.” He then sunk a pair of yellowed teeth into a piece of roast beef coated in brown gravy. Drips of gravy speckled the man’s short graying beard and James turned away to concentrate on his own plate.

Shortly before six, Lindy shepherded her students into the buses, and they made the brief trek to Luray Caverns. The parking lot was nearly empty, as tours had ended for the day. Only a skeleton crew of Cavern employees remained—cleaning up the grounds and preparing the site for the following day. The antique car museum, general store, and restaurant had all closed their doors for the night. To James, it felt odd to approach the entrance beneath the dull glow of lampposts and to walk past the one-acre garden maze as shadows stretched out like black tree limbs over the hedges.

The students immediately sensed the uniqueness of their situation and either fell silent or began to exchange excited whispers.

“I hear a girl was killed inside that maze last year,” one of the boys said loudly, pointing to the wall of dense foliage off to the right.

Lindy rounded on him. “Knock it off, Charlie. No one’s been killed anywhere on these premises. Stop trying to spook your classmates.”

At the entrance, she handed their tickets to the gate attendant and then made a brief speech to her students about staying with their given partners. Each pair was free to move about the caverns for thirty minutes in order to scout out the area in which they would like to spend the rest of the time rendering drawings in pencil or charcoal.

“You won’t be getting the traditional tour,” Lindy informed her pupils, “but the guides will turn out the lights at exactly seven p.m. for an entire minute. By then, you should be set up and working on your sketches. I wanted you to see how important light is in creating shadow. With absolutely no light, you cannot have any contrast.” She looked around at the young faces in front of her. “We can’t really get a sense of what total darkness is like. Our world is filled with light—both natural and artificial. But early man lived in caves and battled darkness all the time. Yet, he eventually managed to paint in caves just like these. I wanted you to think about how challenging that must have been and to be thankful, for art’s sake, that fire was discovered. So remember seven o’clock and have fun!”