The Experience of Being Alive

Chapter Nine

On the walk back to Misselthwaite Manor, Binny reflected on her day of work in her book. Now that she'd actually read the entire thing, the day's activities in her Madrona existence had felt decidedly more predictable. Well, not quite exactly predictable as when Binny was in her book she had no memory of the Stacks or of having read what was about to happen. It was just that once she was back in the Stacks, upon reflection, the day in Madrona felt like a rerun. No surprises.

The question of how Binny even knew what a rerun was, since at no point in her book did she spend any time watching TV, was something that hurt Binny's head to think about, so Binny decided to focus on matter that seemed more relevant, at least for the moment, to her existence here in the Stacks – dinner.

"Hey, you're hogging the fire," Hermione said.

"I'm just trying to get my cheese nice and melty," Arya said.

"Well maybe if you used one of these iron forks instead of Needle in the fire, there would be room for all of us to melt our cheese at once," Hermione responded tartly.

"Oh please. Needle hardly takes up more space than one of the forks."

Katniss just shook her head, leaning back, drinking a milk out of a small bowl. "It's raclette you know. It's Swiss!"

Binny nodded enthusiastically as her mouth was full.

Binny couldn't remember a more beautiful combination of bread and golden melted cheese. Thick slices of bread covered in cheese that had been melted to the consistency of butter. The milk was the best she'd ever tasted.

The room was arranged with dozens of little fireplaces and cupboards nearby with all the materials everyone needed to cook their dinner. Fireplace after identical fireplace. Fire after identical fire. Everyone ate their fill.

At some point even Binny and Arya who'd eaten by far the most out of their little foursome had to slow down. Binny's mind wandered back to her morning. But instead of focusing on her own book, she started thinking about the boy from the morning – Michel.

She'd seen Michel the other night at dinner, Binny wondered if he was nearby now, leaning back, his belly full of do-it-yourself grilled cheese. But no matter how far Binny craned her neck, she couldn't spot Michel. She thought he would have enjoyed this meal. Switzerland wasn't too far from his native France after all.

Binny thought to the unsettled note she'd heard in Michel's comments earlier in the day. He'd referred to the Stacks as a 'godforsaken place'. Binny hadn't asked earlier, but now she was desperately curious.

Binny's mind travelled back to that first time she'd seen Michel, at dinner, with that marvelous fish chowder. Michel had been trying to create some sort of art with his food. Binny had to admit that playing with your food was certainly not the most grownup thing to do, but Two had stopped him. Not just stopped him, but thrown out his 'art' and his dinner. Two had been quiet, but forceful. Was that what he was upset about? That he couldn't play with his food? That made no sense. What could it be?

"Maybe I'll write him a poem." Binny said, not realizing she'd vocalized her thoughts until three faces were staring at her in surprise. Hermione and Arya looked reproachful. Katniss looked almost impressed.

Hermione spoke. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Binny felt flush but soldiered on. "I was just thinking, I made a friend, and he seemed a little down, so I thought I might write him a poem. He's kind of an artist, so I thought that sort of thing might cheer him up."

The corners of Katniss' mouth rose a little further.

"You can't do that," Arya said.

Hermione shot Arya a look, and then turning back to Binny said, "Oh Binny, I was hoping you'd spend some time with us this evening. After we didn't see you this morning, I had planned something special for tonight."