Kelley’s great-grandmama used to say there ain’t nothing a stack of hotcakes can’t fix. Slathered in butter and dripping with syrup, hotcakes are a hug for the human soul, a comfort so simple that it makes everything else simple, too.
Kelley found this adage proved true on more than one occasion during his tenure living aboard inter-planetary transport. He had been among the first to live full-time on the vast civilian ships, the first to create an on-board breakfast diner, the first to turn a sterile, lifeless barge into a thriving community that folks could call home. And all them firsts came over the top of a fluffy stack of hotcakes.
So, when the emergency alarms blared just as Kelley was opening up the diner for the day, he hesitated only a moment before firing up the griddle.
The all-ship loudspeaker crackled to life as Kelley tossed an apron over his shoulders and began rummaging in the cupboards.
Main drive disabled. Concerning, but that’s what the back-up drives were for, Kelley reasoned. But maybe he should … Kelley dispelled that thought before it could form, shaking his head and grabbing the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder. Best not to do nothing before breakfast anyhow.
Caught in a gravity well. Whelp, that explained the slight, swaying pull beneath his feet. Unfortunate, Kelley thought, whisking the batter hard, destroying any hidden lumps in record time. He slapped a pad of butter on the griddle, testing its heat. It bubbled and melted and was gone. Perfect.
Limited escape pods … report to … immediately ... Kelley could no longer hear the announcer over the sudden thumps and thuds and metallics clangs, but he thought he could make a good guess what it said, what with the people now streaming into the halls, shouting and swearing. He thought some of them came into the diner, yelled something at him, and he called a general greeting over his shoulder, voice cracking almost as much as the loudspeaker.
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“Food’ll be up in a jiffy!”
The all-ship message was playing on repeat now, and Kelley thought he should listen to it, he really should, but instead found himself leaning closer to the griddle. Hotcakes required a person’s full attention, no distractions allowed, big or small. Inattention, even for a second, led to burnt batter and disappointed customers. So, Kelley kept his eyes down and his ears tuned to the slight sizzle of the cakes. He’d just have to listen to the message later, that’s all.
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