e
It was a cooking night, and Marena was already in the kitchen toiling away.
“I’m back,” Quint said.
“So?” Marena said.
“I wanted to let you know I’m in the flat,” Quint said.
Marena gave Quint a cold smile. “I’m aware you are in the flat. If I am about to be abducted by a band of criminals, I will let you know.”
“Right,” Quint said. He wouldn’t tell her again.
“Two and a half hours until dinner,” she proclaimed and made a shooing motion with her hand.
“If you need any help…”
Marena sighed. “As I said, I’ll let you know if I need you.”
Quint put his things on his desk. He’d need a smaller valise and would get one in the market after dinner.
He sat down and stared at the stack of paper. He trimmed his pen, opened his ink bottle, and returned to staring at the paper. Quint didn’t know how to open a report. He didn’t know how to begin, and he didn’t know how to end. The captain hadn’t given him any instructions.
At least he could get started. He scribbled out an outline of what he wanted to say and then wrote from that. He was finished by the time one of the lieutenants arrived.
“Writing a letter home?”
Quint’s eyebrows shot up. He’d forgotten all about his parents. How could he do such a thing? But he realized he had been very distracted.
“I need help with my first assignment. I’m to make a critique about one action in the last battle, but I don’t know how to format it.”
The lieutenant pulled Quint gently from the chair and sat down, grabbing the pen.
“This is how you format the cover page. You don’t number it, but you number each page with information inside. When you are done, you sign a back page with a certification that you wrote it.”
“And what is a certification?”
The lieutenant wrote a few words on the back. “Something like this. Name, date, and what you are evaluating. If your officer doesn’t like it, he will have you do it differently, but you will have shown him that you can do the report.” He then explained the format of the report, including page numbers, title, author or authors and to whom the report is delivered.
“That is a lot.”
“That’s the army, Tirolo. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The lieutenant read the report and nodded his head.
“Not bad for a first try,” the lieutenant said. “You could be a little more direct. This isn’t a storybook, so there are few suppositions and more facts. Don’t make anything up. That will almost certainly bite you where you don’t want to be bitten.”
“I think I can proceed,” Quint said.
He made a few changes to his draft. Re-read it for mistakes and rewrote it with the expected title page, report and ending page. He walked into the sitting room and smelled something wonderful.
“Is dinner ready?” Quint asked the senior lieutenant.
“Have I called everyone to dinner?” Marena called from the kitchen.
“Could you look this over while we wait?” Quint said. “I’ve already had one person look at it.”
The senior lieutenant read it and shrugged. “It looks good to me. You must submit this in an envelope, write a title for the report, and address it to your superior officer.”
“Dinner!” Marena shouted from her domain.
Two bedroom doors flew open, and Quint rushed to his room to put the report on his desk before returning to dinner.
Marena sat at one end of the table like a queen. She was the commander-in-chief of the kitchen, after all.
Dinner was delicious and uneventful. The other lieutenants stood and gave bows to Marena, thanking her for dinner before each one retreated to their rooms. Quint stood up last, consistent with his strategy for the meal, but he didn’t leave.
“Can I help you clean up?” Quint asked.
“I’m paid to cook and clean up, lieutenant,” she said.
“And I’m willing to give you a hand. At least let me help clear the table.”
Twenty minutes later, Quint dried the last dish and put it away.
“It is I who should thank you,” Marena said. “If you wish to help again, I won’t resist letting you. You are young enough. You helped your mother with dinner at home?”
