The Warlord Provider

The sun was high in the sky and white cloud floated above, smiling down upon the land. The land, however, did not smile back. Dust and blood was all that laid on the barren land. My people were almost done loading the bodies into the trucks while I lit another cigar with a magnifying glass. It was one of my many talents, alongside organizing military strikes and earning the trust of my soldiers. I let out a little puff of smoke, reminding me of my daughter’s favorite animal, a dragon.

She was the reason I even bothered to kill people in the first place. Ever since her mother died, it had been difficult to get her to eat anything. She was growing weary and everywhere I went, I failed to find a chef able or willing to feed my daughter. A month ago I thought I was close. She would eat most of the meals Boris would make for her, but he had to go and sleep with my new girlfriend. If a man is that dumb, he could never last in my company.

I walked across the deserted land to a single clay home. No bullet holes pierced the dwelling, nor did anyone try to even run to it during the battle. I entered the dwelling and found a young man no older than seventeen. He wore nothing but brown shorts, but was more nourished than the rest I had slaughtered. The man was hunched over a kettle, breathing in the delicious fumes.

“What are you doing?” I asked the young man.

“I am cooking. Would you consider sparing my life, if I share my meal?”

I walked halfway out of the small dwelling and waved at one of my soldiers. He came at once, bringing my daughter with him. The braids in her hair were almost thicker than her arms, and hardly a shade darker than her skin. Watching her come toward me brought both great happiness and pain. If she did not eat soon I knew I would lose her. The last real thing I had in this world.

“Leave us,” I told my soldier and took my daughter’s bony hand.

Together we went inside and the young man was scooping small golden tubes out of the kettle. They stuck together like the conjugated blood of my enemies, filling the bowl. He put a wood spoon in the bowl and handed it to me.

“Alright sweetie, try this,” I said, crouching down to her.

My daughter took a sniff of the golden food and grabbed the spoon. She ate a spoonful and her face lit up like I hadn’t seen since her mother was around.

“Yum! This is tasty!”

I couldn’t have been more thrilled. A food she finally liked. I had to know the secret.

“Young man, what is this and how do you make it?”

“It’s Mac and Cheese. You just add noodles and melted cheese.”

“Could you repeat this every time if you had those ingredients?”

“From scratch? No. I follow the instructions on the box,” he said, holding up a blue box that said Kraft on it.

“Who is Kraft? Where can I find him?”

“You can find it in town, a few miles north of here. You can even keep my last box. Just follow the instructions and it will taste the same every time,” he said, giving me his last box. His words were music to my ears.

No more professional chefs. I read the words on the box and it was clear to understand. Bring water to boil, add the contents from the box, stir. Even my soldiers could make food for her, it was that simple. All I needed was a kettle and something to heat it with. I looked at the box in my hand like my soldiers looked at gold. For me, this was more than gold. It was the key to my daughter’s future. I smiled at her while she gobbled up the rest of her food. Everything was gone, down to the last noodle. I knew my quest was not over and that my daughter would be hungry again, but I finally had hope in my grasp and I wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.