THE CHEF, THE ARCHITECT, AND THE COLLEGE STUDENT by M.D. Olaoye

THERE ARE THREE OF THEM. A chef, an architect, and a college student. They take their normal seats in the room: the chef in the middle, the architect on his right, and the college student on his left. They sit and stare ahead, none of them saying a word. Minutes pass and still no one speaks. The room is empty except for the three of them, and the white walls are bare except for the big clock at the highest point of the room.

The chef is the first to break the silence: “I vote for the little girl.” He says nothing after that. He is met with the confused eyes of the student.

“No, it can’t be her because she’s just that: a little girl,” the student counters. They bicker back and forth, the chef standing firmly by his decision while the student tries to convince him otherwise. Meanwhile, the architect sits in the middle and says nothing, continuing to stare into the emptiness in front of him. In each ear, he can hear bits and pieces of each case. On the left: “young...innocent...much to explore” and on the right: “useless...no purpose...better off this way.” He can hear them, but he isn’t listening because he knows this argument will get them nowhere.

He holds up one hand to each of them, palm out, and immediately the dispute ceases.

“What if we just don’t do it at all?” the architect asks, and with that both the chef and the college student stand up, flabbergasted. “Just hear me out. What if we just don’t do anything? Don’t you know how the public will react once they discover what we're doing? These things need to be planned out!” The chef and the student both sit down and consider this new factor. Again the room is silent. The three of them think for a long time.

The chef is the first to break the silence: “I say we don’t do anything. The public can’t criticize something that doesn’t exist.” And at that the student speaks, “No, I choose the girl.” And again, the quarrel starts. The architect sits in silence, but this time he listens carefully to each side. He raises his hand once more and says, “No, I change my mind. Let’s carry

on with the task, but with someone else. Maybe someone a bit older.”

The student stands up in front of the others. He takes a deep breath and sighs, massaging his temples.

“The girl is a good choice,” he says. “I was against her before, but now it’s better if it’s someone young. She won’t have anything to miss. And besides, I don’t even know her.” He is confident in his answer, his voice unwavering. But again, the room goes silent. They all sit and stare, none of them saying a word. Minutes pass and still no one speaks. The room is empty except for the three of them, and the white walls are bare except for the big clock at the highest point of the room.

The chef is the first to break the silence: “Let’s do someone else.”

8 Still Waters Vol. IV, Issue I.