Casserole Diplomacy and Other Stories by Various Read Free Book Online Page B

round to the back door like any sensible person.
    Everyone in Maberly knew the front door was for strangers, tourists and government officials, all the come-from-aways who were trying to experience the authentic Newfoundland. The back door was for friends and neighbours, people who lived here and treated each other like human beings—not cardboard images. Since the aliens knocked at the back door, they probably knew someone from around here, or came from a place with back door folks too. Perhaps they were friends of her Stan down in St. John’s. They lived crazy lives in that city, Edna knew, what with the university and the CBC there. The aliens might be odd-looking all right, with rubber glove skin and strange oval eyes, but they knew enough to be back door folks. Now that she was looking at the three of them closely, their expressions seemed hopeful rather than aggressive. They were just coming for a visit, like any neighbour might. With their hands full they couldn’t abduct her too easily. Edna prided herself on her hospitality—the whole town knew Edna wouldn’t turn a sick owl away from her door—and no one was going to say Edna Calhoun didn’t know how to treat aliens well on a cold night like this. She smiled at them and stood back from the door to let them in.
    The aliens crowded quickly into the warm kitchen. Edna realized she’d kept them standing there a few minutes while she thought. She pointed to the table. “Take off your slickers. There are hooks on the back of the door. Sit yourselves down now. I’ll just put the kettle on for some tea.” She peeled off her gloves and walked over to the old gas stove, taking the kettle and filling it under the tap in the rinse sink. “I was finishing the dishes from the day, but I’ll just leave them for now.”
    Edna lit the stove, carefully as always, and put the kettle on the back burner. When she turned around, the biggest alien came towards her and thrust all three metal Tupperwares into her hands. She (at least Edna thought it was a she) had orange eyes, oval and gentle. “Well, thank you kindly,” Edna said. “But I’ll have no one saying Edna Calhoun can’t feed her guests.”
    The aliens looked at her. Edna sighed. She was hoping to only give them tea with some cookies she had made a few days earlier, but the Tupperware tins were large and heavy. They would expect a meal. Edna put the Tupperware on the counter beside the stove and opened the fridge. She could give them the food she’d made for tomorrow. With Jonno gone, Edna no longer had a freezer filled with good food waiting to be eaten. No point when it was just her in the house. Edna only liked cooking for other people. All the pleasure was in seeing other people enjoy her creative labour. But company was company and Edna wasn’t going to behave badly like other folks she could mention. Like Carol Anne Wheeler who had given the Simpsons tea and toast when they had dropped in, coming back for a visit after retiring into St. John’s to live with their daughter. Even with nothing in the house, you could whip up some muffins or Pillsbury cookies as quick as can be. Best thing too, when fresh out of the oven. Toast! Edna snorted to herself. She’d have to get up early and cook something else for the luncheon but she’d make sure these aliens were well fed tonight. Good thing she’d been to town only yesterday and bought her week’s groceries at the Valu-Mart.
    Edna wondered if the aliens could eat regular food. They never came for dinner in the National Enquirer . Edna froze. What if she was the dinner? What if the Tupperware held the condiments? She glanced back at the aliens, who were sitting neatly around the table. They looked somehow oversized for the furniture, even though they weren’t much bigger than Edna, and she was getting round these days. They were chittering quietly to one another, sounding like squirrels with deep voices.
    It made Edna a little uncomfortable, not knowing