Chapter 4

If there was one thing Esther remembered from her biology lessons in primary school it was that food is nothing more than nutrition for the body – sausages do not walk, chickens do not sprinkle salt and pepper onto themselves and fish certainly do not grow lustrous hair. But here in front of her were all the impossible beings together, engaging in banter, haggling for prices with stall owners and sipping coffee under the shade of makeshift tents. It was like watching a ‘Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2’ movie.

“Wow.” Esther felt the word escape from her breath.

“It’s incredible right? Our marketplace!” Hensl said.

“That’s not what I’m amazed by…” Esther stopped herself in her explanation. She could not tell him that she was a human and was highly disturbed by the notion of sentient food creatures. To think she actually loved to eat some of these food back home.

Hensl noticed that the girl was highly confused by the sights she saw. “You seem troubled. A penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

“There is something that’s been bugging me. Why is it that some of you look like the actual food while some of you are half-human-half-food? Take for example, you look pretty human to me.”

“Well, aren’t you an inquisitive goldfish?” the man shook his moustache and twisted his lips, “If I could draw you a spectrum, it would have ‘human’ on one end and let’s say ‘food’ on the other. All creatures in Wunderland lie somewhere between the two points. We can’t be complete humans, they only belong to another world, and neither can we be totally food, because those are meant for consumption.”

“So you sometimes eat you own kind?” Esther could not believe she said that.

The man stared at her with his black jelly-like eyes. “Well, yeah, we do…” he started after a long pause, “but not every food here exists as a living talking being. Like, there’s no talking, walking coffee beans, or rice plants, or algae. Some of us don’t even need to eat! Just standing under the sun is sufficient!”

Esther thanked the man for his answer. She fell silent for a moment. Who determines what should be eaten? Just because something does not walk or talk like them, they brand them as edible?

Then again, she convinced herself, these creatures need to feed in order to survive. Some of them are predators in the natural world after all…

“Stop that rat!” A glass-cracking voice split through the marketplace. A large grimy rodent in orange rags emerged through two carts of soy beans. The plump yellow beans scattered across the ground, much to the fright of the seller. The rat went on to overturn more carts of produce, an umbrella stand, a toy maker’s pushcart and set a couple of rattan chairs flying in the air.

Behind the rat, a boy leapt over the fallen carts and dodged the flying chairs. He reached for a slingshot on the ground, grabbed a macadamia nut from a basket, and stretched the rubber band as far back as he could. The rat, thinking that he had overrun his pursuer, made the fatal mistake of slowing down.

Whack! The next thing everyone saw was a dazed rat on the ground, a large round nut next to it and a bag spilling with gold.

“What d’ya know Mr Rostamond, the macadamia nuts you sell are really the hardest in town!” the boy said.

“Why thank you…Hey! Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Maybe you should consider selling roasted almonds, Sir,” the boy returned, “I’m sure they’d be a hit!”

“Hmm that could work…. Hey wait! Did you just use a pun on me?”

A couple of police officers had caught up with the commotion. They wasted no time in clipping a pair of handcuffs on the rat and dragging it away, all while it was still much unconscious.

“Here Madam,” the boy faced a flamboyantly-dressed woman, “your things, not a single one missing.”

“Oh thank you so much!”

The boy managed to evade a meaty hug. “I have something to do now, and you need to go to the police station to give your statement.” With that he slipped away among the crowd.

As the crowd slowly dispersed, Esther was told to continue moving. Walking past the knocked-over carts and crates, Esther was surprised to see that same boy who had stopped the rat robber just now. He was bending over the mass of spilled soy, picking up each bean between his index and thumb. His short black hair brushed with a side parting was fraying at the front. When he placed a handful of beans into the basket held out by the old lady, Esther could see that he had an interesting smile. It definitely was not the kind of photo-shoot smile forced out by actors or models, but a really sincere and full-of-life kind. It felt like lukewarm mushroom chowder in one’s stomach, if Esther had to describe it using food.

The people in this town are really nice, she thought, too bad they don’t know the tragedy that is brewing behind the castle doors.

The group arrived at the gates of a large compound painted in beige and cheese colours. Esther managed to catch a glimpse of the signboard outside which said ‘Military Headquaters’. “For an army training camp, this place is pretty cheery,” the girl muttered to herself.

“Don’t let the exterior fool you,” a voice beside her whispered back.

As the two guards walked proudly into the compound, Esther stood awkwardly on a bare courtyard, the previously green land clearly stamped out by countless of soldiers. A small platoon of soldiers were just dismissed by their superior.

“To! Why are you and Shishamo here?” A pink-faced man strode over.

“Major! We escorted this girl over.” The potato guard immediately straightened his back and saluted.

The major eyed the poor man. “I don’t need two men to escort a girl,” he spat, “Is she some highly dangerous criminal?”

“Well, no, Sir!” William replied, “I just wanted to follow up and see to it that I finish something which I started.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust Shishamo?” the major bent in closer, his gaze piercingly intense.

“Major!” Hensl desperately called out, “William certainly does not mean any disrespect to you or me. In fact, he rescued this girl from a hilly doom. I just tagged along.”

The major backed off, but his gaze still locked onto the young guard. “Alright then. Good. Job. Guard.” His words were icy and sardonic.

“Man that was scary!” Hensl heaved when the major was out of earshot.  

William’s square-shaped brownish face was darker than usual. “Don’t worry Willie!” Hensl said, hooking an arm around his colleague’s neck. “Major Salmon is just like a tiny piranha. Its teeth may look horrifying but they don’t kill!” 

William gave his overly dramatic comrade a side-glance and freed his neck from the weight his colleague’s arm, “I’ll be heading back to my post,” he said, “If the girl is cleared, she’s free to go.” With that he strode out of the compound.

“See you later, Willie!” Hensl waved like child sending his best buddy off.

A duck-like lady dressed in the same uniform as Hensl came over. “You’re cleared,” the lady said, returning the pouch to Esther. “Thank you,” Esther replied, securing the pouch back onto her waist.

“Hey hey, Molly, my little angelfish,” Hensl sang, “looks like you did something to your hair. It’s so snowy and feathery.”

“I grew a new coat, Shishamo,” the duck lady responded, “in case you haven’t noticed, all ducks are born with yellow coverings which change to white when they’re adults.”

“Ohh, the transformation! You told me about it, yea I remember,” Hensl grinned sheepishly, “So Saturday evening? Movie? Or we can go to that new grain shop that’s just opened down Spoon Road!”

“You have guard duty on Saturday,” the lady said as she walked away, “And that’s not a grain shop. It’s a skin scrub house. Those grainy things you saw…. are not grains.”

“Aww….” Hensl groaned.