Symbiosis

Memories of his past flashed before his eyes as a 28-year-old lad stood perched by the rail at Larkwood bridge. As the main artery between Prados Verde and Paladino County, a constant cacophony of vehicular noises blared through the road; a sharp contrast to the undulating waves passing steadily below. What was more deafening was the unspoken words from Kesper Venzetti.

He peered over the horizon across the bay while a gentle breeze brush against his medium brown hair cascaded over his temple; a trait inherited from his father, a first-generation Italian American. All the while, an eighth of his descendance traces back to Scotland from his mother’s lineage. He contemplated his final thoughts, but he couldn’t help but recall his failed aspiration. Having attained a bachelor’s in journalism at the University of Southern California, Kesper had set his mind on a career as a writer. Upon completing one internship after another, he had finally landed a role as an Assistant Editor at a startup. But the initial sense of triumph was quickly beset by a new predicament. The wage was abysmal and since the position was full-time, he had no opportunity to take on an additional job. Until the inception of this new occupation, Kesper had been consistent on his rent, but his payments soon began to falter. In addition, his friendship with his roommate began to sour. After two months of delinquency, his roommate gave him an ultimatum.

‘Kesper, I understand you’ve been going through financial troubles, but the thing is that you still have to pay your dues. I’ve been more than generously lenient, but I’m sorry, you can’t live here at my own expense. You can ask your parents or whoever to help you out or else I’m afraid you will have to move out.’

‘Alright. I’ll be out of here by morning. I’ll have my parents send you a partial payment for these last couple of months.’

‘Don’t worry about it for now. Just pay me when you can.’

Kesper had been left with no choice but to return to his parents’ home. Unfortunately, his circumstances worsened when he woke up one day to find out that he was laid off due to a budget cut. His dream of climbing the ranks within a publication firm dissipated before his eyes. Left in an emotional catatonic state, Kesper had confined himself to his bedroom. However, after a day, he needed some solitary reflection when he couldn’t bear the interruption from the intermittent knock on his door. While setting his footsteps out towards the pavement, he pondered as to why he deserved such a cruel fate.

‘Are you ok there? I said are you ok? Do you need some help?’

In a split second, Kesper realized that he was so deeply entrenched in his thoughts that he wasn’t aware a lady passing by stopped out of concern for his well-being.

‘I’m fine. Thank you,’ said Kesper, forcing a grin.

The lady smiled and walked away.

Sitting nearby on a bench is an old man with horn-rimmed glasses. As he read his newspaper, a gust of wind blew as an ambulance sped past him, causing a page to fly out.

At the corner of his eye, Kesper noticed the vagrant page wrapped around a lamp post. In a split second, he instinctively reached for the paper and returned it to the man.

‘I don’t need it. You can just chuck it,’ the stranger quipped.

Kesper was ready to crumple the paper and drop it into a waste bin when a classified post attracted his attention.

Wanted: A Culinary Apprentice

Whether you are fresh out of school or looking for a change in career, you can learn what it takes to be a chef while training on the job. Rigoletto is a world class trattoria serving your classic Italian dishes. At least a basic familiarity with this cuisine is highly recommended. Please refrain from responding if you are already a professional chef. We encourage those without a traditional background to apply.

Our only requirement is that you know how to cook and not just boil water.

Hmm, I can of course do more than just boil water. But is this what I’m truly destined for? I thought I enjoyed writing, but this whole time I’ve been doing it to fulfill other people’s wishes thus leaving my heart yearning for something more. Now that I recall, I was enamored by the astounding results of the dishes I was able to concoct with the help of nonna. Thanks to her, I enjoyed every moment in the kitchen with her until she was gone forever. So, it was not that I was no longer interested in cooking, but the bereavement itself made the experience unbearable. Years have passed and I seriously need to move on. You know what, if I pass the interview, I’ll take this job as closure and as a new beginning towards recovery, Kesper thought to himself.

Kesper scrolled down to the contact details. When he found an email address, he typed it on his phone and promptly sent his resume.

An electrifying jolt of cathartic relief pulsated throughout his bloodstream as Kesper navigated to his phone’s directory and dialed his mother. The call rang twice before he heard a familiar voice.

‘Hi dear, did you need anything?’

Kesper projected his voice out of enthusiasm.

‘Ma, I decided I’m going to be a chef!’

‘What do you mean? Did you give up on writing?’

‘I don’t know yet. I need to give it more thought.’

‘Where is this coming from?’

‘I saw an ad in a newspaper for an apprenticeship and it doesn’t require any prior experience. I figured this is what Nonna would have wanted.’.

‘That’s good for you. Will you be home for dinner? I’m making Mac n’ Hash.’

‘I think so.’

‘Alright sweety, I’ll leave you plenty in any case.’

‘Thanks. Love you Ma!’

‘Love you too.’

Facing Prados Verde, Kesper made his way back across the bridge. As he held his head up high, he found himself gradually untethering from his inconsolable despair. It was at this very moment when Kesper began to unravel what it truly means to be redeemed from one’s inner guilt.