The two descended the steps and entered the fray. It was a bit like being on holiday, going to a new city and everything seeming a little bit strange, then an hour or so later you’ve adjusted and feel quite at home. In the end, most folk are pretty similar, Cecilia thought, even if they look a bit different or speak a different language. “Everybody’s got to eat,” as her granny said.
Kuffi stopped at a stall with the word GRUB painted in fluorescent green, rather untidily, on a piece of rotting old wood. A woodlouse popped out and scuttled across the letter G. It was pretty busy but somehow Cecilia and Kuffi pushed their way to the front of the queue. Cecilia felt a bit embarrassed about this—she’d never been one to push, although Hester often got away with it.
“All right, Robbie!” called Kuffi.
“Koof, matey, you up for some lovely grub?” Robbie chirruped happily.
Robbie couldn’t have been more beautiful; he was a robin-face, a chap of miniature proportions, probably about as big as Hester, with a sweet voice and jovial disposition, and despite his size he made a lot of noise. He flitted about the cart to and fro passing small wooden bowls of grub to the folk below, in exchange for buttons.
“The usual?” he twittered, his red breast bursting through the top of his shirt like a hairy chest.
“Times two.” Kuffi gestured to Cecilia.
“What ’ave we got ’ere then, Koof?” he whistled, managing to stay still for a split second.
“This is my new friend, Cecilia.” He leant over the counter and whispered into Robbie’s ear.
“Oh, right,” Robbie twittered knowingly. “We’ll soon set you right, lovely.” He handed Kuffi two wooden bowls and Kuffi gave him a big blue button. “Keep the change!”
“Thanks, Koof. See you tomorrow!” And with that he darted off to serve the next customer.
Kuffi carried the bowls over to some benches where the two smushed themselves in next to the other occupants, sitting opposite each other. Kuffi got stuck in straight away but Cecilia looked down into her bowl cautiously. At first it looked like mushed-up rice, but on closer inspection she could see that there was something else mashed in with it. She dug around in the mush with a little wooden spoon, genuinely repulsed.
“What’s wrong?” asked Kuffi through a mouthful.
“What is it, Kuffi?”
“It’s grub, Cecilia,” he said, chomping away hungrily.
“Yes. But what is grub?”
“Potatoes, onion, mushroom, a sprinkle of dirt and… earthworms,” he replied, merrily shovelling another spoonful into his mouth.
Cecilia gulped. “Earthworms. Right, sure. I don’t have to eat them though, Kuffi?”
“Why, yes, of course. They’re fresh! That’s when they’re at their most nutritious, you silly potato face!”
“I’m not sure I like to eat earthworms, Kuffi.” Cecilia was trembling. She tried to hide it by tucking her hands into her sleeves.
“What’s not to like?” he asked.
Cecilia was a rational kind of person with a scientific mind; she knew this wouldn’t kill her. Anyway, she thought, I like trying new things… but eating worms? She frowned. All sorts of questions came flooding to mind.
“Are they definitely dead, Kuffi?” she asked. She couldn’t stand the thought of them wiggling about in her mouth.
“Yes, Cecilia. Now eat up or that monster might get the better of you. Besides someone else will have it if you don’t hurry up!”
Cecilia paused, looking into her bowl.
“Look, it’s the cycle of life,” Kuffi went on. “You eat that up quickly now and it will become part of you, keep you going and that kind of thing. Then it will come out of the other end and it will get eaten by—guess what? More earthworms. Full circle. We are all energy transferred, just in various forms! What you consume becomes a part of you, at least for a while. Surely it would be far worse now that this food has been made and put before you, not to eat it and let the earthworms and let their lives be wasted? They’ve no where left to go but your belly.”
“OK, that’s true,” she said, nodding. “Eventually they’ll go back to the ground and nourish it for other earthworms.”
“Exactly. Try it. If you don’t like it I will eat it,” he said, licking his chops. “Look, they’re delicious.” Kuffi slurped up a worm like spaghetti. “Scrum-diddly-yum! You’ll see and then you’ll wonder why you were ever worried about eating this lovely grub!”
“OK,” Cecilia whimpered. She lifted a spoonful to her mouth. Birds eat worms, she thought, and they’re just fine. Besides, what’s the difference between eating this and some chicken. It was all over very quickly and although she did not like the texture of worms in her mouth, the dish tasted mostly of potatoes and onions—and in the end she finished the lot. Cecilia looked down into her empty bowl and wondered if she’d ever go back to where she came from and if she did, whether Hester would believe she’d eaten worms to survive! Hester would probably love it and come up with some silly name for her, like “worm worshipper” or “wiggly-worm eater”. She chuckled to herself as Kuffi collected the bowls.
“There you go,” he said. “I know it’s hard. Things might seem a little bit strange at the moment but it will get better. It’s just, well, we want you to fit in, don’t we?” It was almost as though Kuffi was trying to tell her something. “To be honest, we are all alone, wandering through the dark at various points in our lives.” With that, Kuffi got up out of his seat.
Cecilia watched him walk over and chat to Robbie. Things seemed to have calmed down quite a bit at the grub stand now and the two of them were laughing and joking together. She watched a while and considered that things could be worse.
