Chapter Two: Toothfairy

By: Marie Pascual

9/16/2024

We’ve reached the halfway point of this S.S. Duck spinoff series, and the days have gotten slower, like the summer heat pressing down on everything. With most of the locals off on vacation, the hall feels like a ghost ship, drifting quietly through the season. Spending most of my working hours at the Water Well has reminded me of a simple truth: in this industry, it’s not just about the food—it’s about the connections, the camaraderie.

Picture the WW Food Hall:
​
The music, curated by our manager Kellog, feels like it was ripped straight from the playlist of a teenager trying to inject some life into a dead mall on a Wednesday afternoon. Outside, the chairs are bolted to the concrete, frozen in place—much like our routine. During breaks, I sit in front of our stall, talking shop with the other crew. The staff from the ice cream stand across the way often join us, lamenting the sluggish pace of service. Meanwhile, the crew at Karak trades their homemade chai for our skewers, and we geek out over our favorite bands, finding solace in shared tastes as the hours crawl by.

As the ship floats into the night, the conversations get weirder. We debate conspiracy theories about the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. Somehow, we land on the idea that the Tooth Fairy grinds down children’s teeth into a powder—some sort of drug for the Christmas elves to help them crank out toys on time. And they’re in cahoots with the Halloween candy companies, rotting kids’ teeth just to keep the supply chain going.
​
After a couple of hours of this nonsense, the chef breaks out a pair of dice, and soon we’re gambling away sodas. It’s these moments that stick with you. No one’s going to remember the dishes we plated or the recipes we drilled into our heads. What we’ll remember are these people—our crew—and the crazy stories and small rebellions that got us through the long, empty days.