Recovery

The following week is the best I had since my mother died even trough my Dad is home even less and talking between us has been reduced to hurried greeting on the rare occasions I manage to run into him on the way from or to work. I don't think he has noticed my new outfits, the ones I got from the boardwalk the day after my first time working at the Church. I nearly cried that day when sister Margret offered me some of the clothes which had been donated to the Church. She surprised me with them at the end of my second day and when I told her that I had money to buy my own she offered them to me anyway. Even then I could not take the clothes, something inside me rebelled at the thought of taking charity, something inside me was telling me that it was my responsibility to take care of others, not being taken care of. An absurd thought for someone my age, but nonetheless I could not accept and after a long discussion with sister Magret, she offered me a deal. She had noticed how proficient I was at cleaning and would allow me to work for the clothes, by cleaning the old Chapel at the back of the church.

Cleaning the old Chapel had been easy, too easy. It barely took me two hours to make the whole thing sparkle like new. Accepting the clothes for so little work felt like stealing, I would have done it for free if they had asked me for it and it was only because sister Magret forced them on me that I took them with me that day. She even told me that she felt like she had taken advantage of me because the Chapel had never loóked that good in her memory and it would have taken on the sister at least a day to clean it. She even ordered sister Kalia to help me buy a good pair of shoes, refusal wasn't an option so I went and bought not just one but two pairs of shoes, a pair of running shoes and a pair of winter boots, with Sister Kalias help.

Sister Kalia even managed to get me a discount, normally reserved for repeat customers by telling the clerk I was part of the order. On the way back home I passed one of these cosplay clothing stores which became popular after the emergence of capes. On instinct, I spend way too much money there to buy a beautiful black dress. It was not a rational decision, but I did it anyway and I could not regret it when I unpacked the dress at home and went to pose in front of the mirror. It felt right to own something like it and I looked gorgeous, my features enhanced and my figure emphasized to perfection. I didn't dare to wear the dress outside, but every time I returned home I changed and enjoyed the feel of the soft cloth on my body.

The rest of the money was spent on cleaning supplies, kitchen supplies and groceries. I even tried to cook for dad, but he either didn't look in the fridge and at the table at all for the rest of the week, or he was ignoring my efforts.

Today I was even more eager than usual to get to the church because sister Magret promised me yesterday to allow me to help cooking for the first time today. On the way, I only got lost two times, a new record. How I could get lost walking the same way over and over is still a mystery, but It is probably part of my power, according to PHO all powers have massive drawbacks and I am glad that my drawbacks are proportional to the usefulness of my ability. Speaking of drawbacks, the only annoying aspect of my new found beauty was the amount of attention I was getting from everyone in the vicinity and my new, fitting clothes didn't help either. But this is a price I am more than willing to pay.

When I arrived at the church the nuns were already busy cooking and allocating breakfast. Sister Magret met me in the same garden we met on the first day and after a short conversation, I was given an apron and told to start with the scrambled eggs. I was so excited to finally be able to cook for someone and maybe even get feedback about my improved cooking. Before starting I checked my cookbook and made sure that I remembered the recipe perfectly. While beating the eggs, milk, salt, pepper and a pinch of paprika powder I hummed an old Beatle song. A few minutes later I was done with my first potion, separated it in four and arranged it on separate plates and placed them to the counter to be passed on to the next nun in line. Breakfast at the Baptist Church food distribution charity consists of scrambled Egg with sausage and a piece of flatbread with a piece of fruit and I was the first in the production line. Breakfast was a busy time in the kitchen and no one had time to talk.

After the breakfast rush, sister Magret complimented me and offered me the opportunity to help with the midday meal. She told me that my scrambled eggs had been well received and she thought me ready to prepare a full meal. During lunch, the cooking could not be separated in different steps as easily as during breakfast. Lunch was casserole and every cook was responsible for his own baking dish. Of course, I agreed, cooking is fun and my powers urge me more to cook for others more than for myself. At least my powers aren't selfish.

Sister Magret lead me to one of the free cooking spaces close to the industry sized oven and showed me how to use the timer to keep track of the baking time. Then she gave me a recipe book and told me to start preparing. The recipe wasn't that complicated and I happily started chopping the onions. Another sister I didn't know the name of gave me the ingredients which weren't present already, mostly meat and cheese, long-lasting foods where kept inside small baskets in the middle of the cooking tables. While chopping and slicing the vegetables I rechecked the recipe and noticed that my own cookbook recommended slightly different and more precise amounts of ingredients and spice. There were also a few additional cooking steps to take notice of. I was just following on of the additional steps, lightly braising the onions, when sister Magret came to check on my progress. At first, she seemed to be satisfied and even commented that my vegetables had been sliced very uniformly when she noticed my cookbook. Her eyes narrowed and for some reason, she kept staring at it, as if she had never seen a cookbook before.

"Taylor, is this your book?" I couldn't identify the tone of her voice and answered hesitantly. "Yes, this is my cookbook?"

Her eyes narrowed even more. "I did not see you bring a book with you in the morning. You didn't have any bags with you and this book is way too big to be hidden inside a small purse. Moreover, this book looks old, not because of wear and tear but because of the way it is made. It is leather-bound, reinforced with thin sheets of metal and thick pages. I would think it one of our old manuscripts, except about cooking and brand new. This book is certainly worth a lot of money."

While she is saying that she picks up the book, which is about forty centimeters high, thirty centimeters long and twenty centimeters thick, and weighs it in her hands while analyzing its build. One the cover is a small black cauldron with the word "COOKBOOK" written on top. The look in her eyes is piercing when she finally looks at me.

"Where did you get it?" Her question stops me short because I don't know the answer. "I don't know, I always use it when I am cooking, the recipes inside are the best I have ever seen. I apologize for not following your recipe, but I felt that a few steps could be improved so I wanted to doublecheck with my cookbook. I am sorry for causing you trouble."

"It is no trouble, your recipe is good and the ingredients are the same so it doesn't matter, but please inform me the next time, when you choose to follow a different recipe. We have to know the amount of ingredients used at all times in order to keep everything on track." She puts down my book and turns away. Almost like an afterthought, she tells me: "Please meet me in the office after you are done with this portion, you will have to take a break anyway the oven takes more than half an hour to bake something this big."

I agree and watch her walk away before staring at my cookbook in bewilderment, where did it come from? Tobias pulls me from my thoughts when he puts his hand on my should.

"Don't worry about it, sister Magret is not angry with you, she probably only wants to ask you about your recipe and make a copy of it in case it is well received." His smile is easy going and his voice soothing.

"Little Tobi is right, sister Magret is not the kind to postpone lectures if there had been anything wrong with your recipe she would have told you already." Sister Kalia encourages me.

I nod and thank them both for their support, but the rest of the preparations don't come as easily to me and I am distracted with thoughts about the origin of my cookbook. It feels like I always had it, but I have no memory of ever seeing it before summer camp, so it may be another facet of my powers. If so, I might have just outed myself as a parahuman to more than a dozen people, mostly nuns, nice people, but still strangers. I haven't even told my Dad about my powers.

The time flies and after putting my casserole in the oven I am nervously walking through the hallway to the small office on the opposite side of the building. My palms are sweaty and at first, I thought I forgot my cookbook, but when I think about it I notice that I had it in my left hand all this time. Not five seconds pass between my knock and sister Magret prompt to come in and when I open the door I find myself inside a small office with a big table and two chairs on opposite sides. The decor is simple but elegant and sister Magret signals me to seat myself on the chair opposite her.

"Thank you for coming, Taylor. I am afraid this discussion will not be to your liking." She is serious and when I look her in the eyes I can suddenly understand how someone as compassionate as she can lead an order of this size. Her gaze is intimidating.

"You are a parahuman, don't deny it, I know. The book is only the final proof, I already suspected it when you cleaned the whole chapel in less than two hours, with a very old fashioned broom I could not find afterward, I should mention. " Her words hit me like a brick. It has been less than a week since I decided on my rules and I have already broken all of them. Through the comment about the broom puzzles me. All the brooms at home are very modern and even then, I did not bring a broom with me that day. But maybe the broom is like the book, just there when I think about it, but not when I don't.

Going by the broom that appears to my right the moment these thoughts cross my mind, I am probably right to think that the broom is just like the book and part of my powers.

"Yes, that is the broom, but please pay attention, Taylor. I can not afford to get involved in Cape matters. This is a private charity, we don't have the government protection against gang capes, inadequate as it is. What is your cape name?"

She is right, I can't involve her in this. "I don't have one, I don't have the type of powers that would be useful to heroes or villains. I am merely a handy cook and a good cleaner, nothing more. I didn't know about the book or the broom otherwise I would have never allowed myself to use them in public. I have never even met another cape before, I didn't even know something like summoning was possible."

Sister Magret groans. " I believe you. I think myself a good judge of character, but you have to understand. Allowing an untested cape to cook for the masses is a felony, every commercial activity involving powers has to be reviewed and accepted by the government and PRT. That is why it is so hard for capes to make money outside of being heroes or villains. It is one of the reasons there are so many villains in the Bay, but it is the law. Now it is too late, Breakfast is already over and your cooking has been eaten by at least one hundred people. If you had told me before I would have made sure that only myself and the other sisters are affected, but that is not possible anymore. We will keep your casserole for ourselves and eat it for lunch, at least we know it is tasty. Have you done any power testing?"

I shrink into myself at her words and when she tells me that what I have done is criminal I can already see myself being hauled away to prison. I shudder in horror just thinking about those dirty cells from NCIS. "Please it was not my intention to hurt anyone, I just wanted to help." My voice is weak, even to my own ears and my eyes are prickling from unshed tears.

Sister Magrets face softens, "I know that, but if anyone reports it we will all be in trouble. You are lucky, all sisters are loyal to me and most of them like you, so I can stop them, but there is no way to tell how many other people have seen you in the kitchen and no way to know if they have noticed anything. There are quite a few gang members every time we give out food and they are told to look for parahumans, especially new ones like you. If they report it to their superiors you could be in real trouble."