Birds Eye View Part 1

Chapter 215

Birds Eye View

Part 1

Isn’t Life grand? It’s the purist statement I could think of, as we move on to my adoptive parents introducing nudism according to them and most of if not all my nudist's friends that believe in this type of living. It might have been wrong, but at the time I was to believe that it wasn’t. In many ways, I still don’t because it was the best time of my life. Again if only I could go back I’d beat myself senseless for throwing that all way just for some job I could have done anywhere and for letting the world talk me into believing that I was doing the right thing… when the truth was throwing it all away because I was punishing myself, believing I didn’t have the right to be happy.

I was so scared of being like my father that I couldn’t think straight and talked myself into being alone. Instead of taking the risk that I wasn’t and wouldn’t be like him. By reminding myself that I wasn’t raised by him, nor did I have the same standards as him or my mother. I failed to remember that nudism was part of my life that made me happy, yet I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. I had one goal and that was to be a Chef at any cost. But that night was the last time I really was 16 years old going on 17. Don’t you dare start to sing that Julie Andrews song from the sound of music? You will never get it out of your head.

Mom gave a little girlish giggle, as she said. “Pick a boy or pick a husband to groom.” To Mrs. Larson, she gave a silly grin trying to decide placing her right finger on her chin and started to tap it as she looked between us as if she was in a grocery store.

She said. “Well, I have already groomed my husband so I’ll leave him for you, and I have already groomed your son Eric as well.” She gave a heavy sigh. “This is a very hard choice because I am unsure of what I can do or can’t do without stepping over your boundaries.”

Mom said. “Loraine, darling,” Using Mrs. Larson’s first name, “there are no boundaries, we told you we have an open marriage and my husband Robert I have given you and your husband Mat permission to have sex with us, stimulate us to your hearts desire, my boys as well.”

She nodded. “Still it is a hard choice to make when you want them all. So I’ll have the boys pick a number between 1 and 6 and that will be the one I choose first.”  She quickly wrote the number down using a bottle of chocolate sauces letting Mom see it and lightly covered it over with a towel so it wouldn’t be seen or ruin it. Once we all picked a number. Dad was the one that got picked first, choosing the number 5. Mrs. Larson asked Mom if she was sure.

Mom said “Oh I am sure because I am picking your husband. That way we are on equal footing.”

Mom had given each of the Larson’s their own grooming kit when she handed them out their robes. It was included in the membership of either club the Garden club or the Night Owls club or least the kids old enough to join. I was in both, and so was Greg, but we stayed mostly in our Night Owls club, because it was for us and not the adults, considering they had their own. Mrs. Sims and Bishop Sakes were both in the Garden Club, and Dad was right they looked good together, being as they were both single parents.

Dad and I had overheard them talking as Bishop Sakes asked her out on a date for Saturday and she accepted, mostly because they had a lot in common, the fact that he was an LDS Bishop or was in past tense giving up the calling to move here. Or the fact she was a die-hard Catholic had nothing to do with it. The fact that he had converted to nudism and our way of life however did, and each of their kids told them to go for it. But it was none of my business as Mom told us, boys, to make ourselves comfortable because we were next. Jared and I wiggled with anticipation.

Ben and Daren were ok with the fact that their parents were going to have sex with each other spouses, he had seen other parents have sex many times. And he and Daren have had sex many times with those parents and many of their friends. It was them they were worried about the most; which was their mother having sex with them regardless that he knew that all our friends have done it many times and looked forward to it.

They have even been bathed in a tub like this one at their houses. It was just the first time that his parents were going to bathe them in this new style. I knew he was nervous so I pulled him into a kiss and said. “We might as well take advantage of the drink, considering they will be awhile.” As we watched Mom straddle their Dad and their Mom straddles my Dad.

Once the bathing was done, Mr. and Mrs. Larson stated they needed to get one these in their house hating to get out of the tub watching the water drain, asking Dad how much it costs to put in. He said. “The cost is worth every penny, but you can get a discount if you buy the tub from me, and a good deal on the install. I’ll give you some numbers in the morning if you like.”

They nodded. Mom said cringing looking at the time noticing it was a little after 1 in the morning, said. “Are you ready to play some games, or do want just go to bed?” They asked their boys, and they said. Games and Mom said. “Ok then now that we are comfortable.”

We played spider love giving their mother a chance to have their father and each of their boys in that position until we couldn’t stay awake any longer. Instead of going back to our room Jared and we slept on the couch in Mom and Dads room and Ben and Daren went back to their parent’s room. It was nearly 6 am when we all got up as the house started to get noisy.

I blinked the sun out of my eyes looking out the window and seeing the snow almost up to the windows. I could hear the big trucks moving up and down the road and seeing their black smoke coming out of the mufflers. Dad said we would leave right after breakfast so I could meet Chef Phillips, I groaned inward, because how tired I was after last night and being the third night without much sleep.

I quickly dressed placing my shoes by the door. Mom said when I got back they would color my hair and my brother's hair again. Stating once again Eric T Rothwell has left the building. Mrs. Vincent was in charge of breakfast with the help of our wives and Mom. They all seemed to be in a good mood this morning. Then again why wouldn’t they be, they weren’t the ones that had to go anywhere, Sparky liked the snow as he leaped frog into snow drifts having the time of his life.

I, on the other hand, hated snow, mostly because of my father trying to kill me in it and how cold it was when I ran away, just get away from him and the people like him. I didn’t have to do much in it, other than check on the horses and feed and water them. It was the one thing that kept the Downing’s in my heart. It made it easier to bear the loss having this part of them still with me. Mom and Dad were right I needed this back in my life.

Once I was done with my chores and breakfast. I put on a good pair of work boots and dressed warmly which was my biggest mistake. Thinking working inside a trailer of a portable kitchen would be cold. I grabbed my knife set and kissed Rhoda and Eli goodbye. I envied them because they got to stay home and do whatever they wanted, having second thoughts about accepting the challenge.

Instead, I gave myself a hard shake telling myself this what I wanted as we pulled up outside the trailers that looked like a stand-alone building put together with several large trailers but had been enclosed with wooden skirting to protect them from the weather It was almost 8:30 when we arrived. The roads were clear and so was the parking area. I had passed several large trucks carrying dumpsters full of snow heading to a location nearby out of the way, building a huge mountain of it. I could invasion playing in that mountain building a huge snow fort. Yet those days are gone, as Dad asked if I was nervous having me say a little bit. Telling me I would be just fine as we got out and braced the cold weather chilling us to the bone.

I had never met Chef Philips, but I knew of him because he worked for Stringum at his large estate, but I never met him in person. Dad said he and I would get along just fine because we had a lot in common which was cooking… I had assumed that was the reason. Once inside the smells were aromatic as the building crew was having a nice hot breakfast before starting their day as they wait for the snow team to remove the snow so they can work.

It didn’t matter how cold it was or how much snow was on the ground they still had to work to support their families. I didn’t envy their jobs. Instead, I was more concerned about mine. The building was warmer then I thought it was noticing it was more of a steel frame building to hold a large crew of 100 or so in staggering shifts; Plus built like airport hanger and strong enough to withstand heavy snows and bad weather, again I could see that Stringum spared no expense to keep the building crew happy. 

We were told to go up to the counter and they would let us in the side door. I noticed right away that they were all wearing Chef Jacket’s varying colors and black and white checkered pants or black pants or some weird version of the style of multi-color and strange pattern, that reminded me of Doctor Whitmore and his strange Southern Africans gowns. We were led to a tall black guy with a clipboard in his hand wearing a baseball cap backwards. He too was wearing a Chef Jacket which was white with black buttons the kind I had seen real Chefs wear with his name embroidery in the front, with weird color pants and wearing black dress shoes.

Very few of his kitchen staff had white jackets; it was more like three or four tops. While everyone else wore colored chef jackets and a ball cap of some sport they liked; or just simple plain generic kind like Chef Phillips who wasn’t the only black guy in the kitchen or some ethnic group like Mexican, Chinese or American.

Dad and I noticed that most of them were men and very few were women which surprised him the most considering he had this mentality that woman did all the cooking. Apparently, he was wrong, but he indicated it didn’t surprise him, but I noticed his eyes following them.

The man that opened the door for us got his attention as he turned and smiled at me. He was tall and as big as Dad was, the only real difference was he was black. Dad and I shook hands with him as Dad introduced me to him.

Chef Dale Phillips He was tall and as big as Dad was, the only real difference was he was black. He was big bald and black. He was built like a quarterback on a football team. Dark brown eyes, a nose that was long but tapered slightly at the ends. His jaw could have been chiseled out of ice, he looked like the statute of David if he was black and bald wearing a white Chefs jacket and black slacks. That slid smoothly without a single blemish to his size 13 black polished work shoes. In someway Dad and I were all ready picturing him naked and wondering if he would taste like Hershey Chocolate bar.

He said. “So you want to be a Chef?”

I said. “Yes, sir more than anything?”

He said. “Well then, let’s go and have a nice hot breakfast and talk.” Dad didn’t say anything that we had already eaten, because it would be rude, and it wasn’t like we couldn’t make room.

We grabbed a tray and followed him out to the dining room and took a seat out of the way so we could watch his crew work seamlessly. He quickly asked what I knew about cooking seeing my carrying case with my own knife set as he had me open it. So he could inspect my knives. Telling me that knives I have were good knives, and he could see I used them a lot and I have taken good care of them.

However they were cheap and inferior, that wouldn’t last me long in this field. Then asked me what kind of Chef I had in mind of becoming. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. So I said a Chef like him, causing him to smile. He said asking me. “And what kind of Chef do you think I am son?”

I said. “Good and famous Chef,” and he laughed at me; stating that not all Chefs are like him as he went over the different kinds of Chefs. I had thought a Chef was just a Chef. I never realized that there were different kinds. He said he was banquet Chef mainly, I nodded, Even Dad seemed taken back learning something new because he too thought all Chefs they were all the same. He didn’t know that they all trained differently other than the fact they cooked and did many things alike. Once he had gone over each category. He began interviewing of what kind of things I have cooked and how many and how I did it.

He said that it sounded like a Banquet Chef would be a good fit for me for my style of cooking. Then said looking at my knife set, told me that these knives wouldn’t work for me, because they weren’t good enough for the kind of work I would be doing… they were good for a housewife with some basic skills. Not a chef that makes his bread butter cooking in large quantities.

That for today they would work, or until I got some new ones, I cringed knowing that these knives were almost 5 hundred dollars. Then he had me stand so he could get a good look at me and tsked, asking if I was planning to work in Alaska outside in the freezing cold. Telling me my shoes would blister my feet in an hour, and I would melt within the in an hour or I would fall flat on my butt the moment I hit a greasy spot or inside the dish room. I was an accident waiting to happen, that if I wanted to play with the big boys I needed to dress the part.

He motioned over one of his men, and told him to put me in proper uniform then come bring me back here. While talks to my Dad about my new duties and workout schedule. The man said. “Yes Chef,” and I followed him. I told him my name was Nate Carrion as he took me into the locker room and assigned me a locker as he took my sizes and as I followed him to where all the uniforms were all still in their packages.

The pants I had chosen were bright red with different types of fruits and vegetables. After being told the checkered pants or the black pants were for the Chefs to wear, not some 16-year-old boy that had no business being inside the kitchen until he had proven himself to the guys that he wasn’t a snot nose kid that thinks he knows everything.

I tried not to take it personally, but he was right. I was 16 and I had never cooked in a real live kitchen before. Home cooking is different than working in a big industrial kitchen. He gave me a dark maroon more red then purple chef jacket. Informing me that white ones like the pants must be earned. I nodded stating that was fine wanting to earn the right, adding it to my challenge that jacket was going to be mine.

I was given four jackets after trying one on as it hung on me being a little baggy and the pants to go with it as well as a pair of shoes. My socks were ok he, however, forgot or didn’t want to tell me I wouldn’t be needing any of my winter underwear as he snickered watching me dress making sure everything fit me. He placed a paper cap as a fry cook would wear instead of a ball cap like everyone else. I looked in the mirror seeing how ridicules I looked. I looked like no Chef… I looked like something out of a horror movie.

Once I was dressed I heard people snickering behind my back as they made fun of the way I looked. It became apparent I was dressed this way for a reason, noticing that everyone else was wearing none of my colors. Not even the other boys carrying dishes from the dish room and moping and sweeping floors theirs were either brown or black with a yellow or red strip done the front and the back like some bowling team wearing either jeans or matching pants.

My jacket painted a target on my back. I tried to ignore the fact that I was considered a joke. Dad smiled at me and said I looked like a Chef now, causing the man behind me to mutter his disapproval for me. He was excused to go back to work. Once he returned Chef Philips said. “Sorry about that, but it is common for new crew to be roused a bit until they prove themselves. Most boys start at the bottom before they even think about cooking like those boys wearing brown. So give them a little time to get to know you.”

I nodded, and he leaned back and said. “Ok, your Dad and I worked out a schedule, I am aware that no one is to know who you are other than the kitchen staff. You will keep your current salary you have with Stringum according to his terms, but you are not allowed to mention how much you are getting paid. I have asked my employees not to talk about it or their salary with each other, but they do it anyway. Most the time they lie so they have something to brag about.

“If anyone asks you are getting paid 5 bucks hour which is standard pay for new boys that work in the dish room or sweeping and mopping floors or some type janitorial that needs to be done, until they get promoted to prep, boys who keep the kitchen clean and do most of the prep for the next service or the next day they to will most likely give you a hard time, but once prove them that you have some experiences they too will give their respect. Its call initiation, which we all go through as a tight-knit family, but only are allowed to do it and nobody else and will fight for you wants you have got their approval.

“You will work 4 hours a day four days week Monday and Wednesday, not including Friday and Saturday as part of a normal week. Those two days you will work for 8 hours on Friday and Saturday. Your Dad said that should be doable because you won’t be playing sports because of your undercover work. That will give you time to work on your homework and your training with Tony as well attend to your bookkeeping for Stringum as well as help poor Dotty in the kitchen.

“I will talk to my staff about making sure your real name never leaves the kitchen. It will be your job to make sure you're on time each day and you will be assigned jobs as I see fit. I know that you have a big event coming up. I willing to help you make sure that happens, but you must do what I say and when I say it. You will answer to me as Chef like my men do because it shows respect and I have earned that titled and every person here wearing a white jacket.

“Everyone else you address as sir or ma’am or by their name. If they ask you to call them Chef it means they are making fun of you. Just play along, knowing that they are just rousing you because you are new to our family.  Now let’s go inside and give you a tour of the kitchen and we will send your Dad on his way and have him pick you up around 2 beings as it’s your first day.

“Next Saturday you will be here bright and early around 5 and work until I say stop or until 3 most Saturdays. Friday will seem to be your longest day because of school and starting work around 3 after School and getting off somewhere around 11, and getting up early the next day. But then again you’re married and that means you have no big date plans for the weekend.

“I have also agreed to have your husband Eli work here as well. Since he too needs a job to support you and his wife, he will work the same hours as you do, but not for the same pay, since he has no kitchen work experience and it would be unfair to you and my other employees. All your meals will be covered while you’re working because a Chef should always eat his own food that he has prepared. Do we have a deal?” I nodded and we shook hands on it.