memory. I scribbled a signature, making up a name, and then passed the paper back to them. I caught Noah looking down at the paper curiously as I passed it back.
The cloche was put on the table with great ceremony and the lid lifted with a dramatic flourish. I almost expected a drum roll to fill the air. I looked down, and there it was. Tiny and red. The silver plate dwarfed it, which made it look incredibly ominous.
“Is that it?” Noah eyed the small red thing.
“Don’t let its size fool you,” the waiter said, looking so pleased with himself as he put a glass of milk down for me. “As they say, dynamite comes in small packages.”
“The rules are simple,” the manager said, also looking like he was enjoying himself very much. “You have to eat and swallow the entire chili in one minute. And if you do, your meal is free and you get your photo on the habanero wall of fame over there.” He pointed and I looked at the back of the room, where there was a wall of photos. There were not a lot of photos and—
“No! No!” Noah said. “Look at all those people. Look at their faces, they look like they’re about to collapse!”
“I’ll be fine,” I urged. “Let’s do this.” I looked up at the manager and gave him a firm, confident nod and then I picked the pepper up and eyeballed it.
“On your marks, get set,” the waiter said, holding his cell phone.
“No!” Noah said quickly.
“GO!” The waiter shouted over Noah’s protests and a cheer broke out around me, which soon turned into an excited chant, as many of the patrons who’d been previously sitting were up on their feet, coming towards the table.
Without much thought, I shoved the whole thing in my mouth and bit down.
“At least eat it in little bites. Small bites!” Noah said, flapping his hand at me. I thought he might pull the thing out of my mouth if he could.
“No. All at once is better!” the manager assured him.
Everyone leaned in as I bit down and started chewing, eyebrows raised in a kind of mutual question. The question was not hard to guess, and the more I chewed, the higher the eyebrows went and the more they leaned, until all I could see were dozens of eyes and brows looking at me.
“And?” Noah was the first to speak.
“Mmmm,” I mumbled as the first rush of heat hit me like a ten-ton truck on my tongue. “Whoa!” I opened my mouth and fanned my tongue with my hand. “Whoa!”
“You okay?” Noah asked.
I nodded my head, fast. I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks as my eyes watered and stung. “WHOOOO!” I fanned my mouth some more. “H.O.T.!”
“Thirty seconds to go!” the manager announced.
“Okay!” I slapped my hands down on the table hard, palms first. And then started bashing the table with each fiery bite. Soon a chant had broken out around me and a countdown had begun.
“Ten, nine, eight . . .”
I chewed faster and faster. I was going to swallow this thing, come hell or high water. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, and my nose was starting to run too.
“Five, four, three—”
“DONE!” I leapt up out of my seat and opened my mouth for everyone to see, and then I threw my arms in the air and jumped up and down on my feet as fast as I could. The jumping was more to distract me from the feeling of utter agony exploding in my mouth.
“Oh shit! Oh crap, oh . . .” I threw myself back at the table and grabbed the glass of milk, gulping it down so hard and fast that it went everywhere. I could feel it on my chin, running onto my shirt, but I didn’t care. I plunged my tongue into the milk and looked up at Noah over the rim of the glass.
“I did it!” I said, the words bubbling into the milk. This time the worry on Noah’s face was gone. Instead, he was laughing, and it was utterly contagious. Because soon I was laughing too, and everyone else.
Who knew eating a chili and half burning your tongue off could be so damn fun!
And then I could feel something big and uncomfortable climbing up my throat. I tried to stop it, tried to swallow it down, but there was no fighting it.
“Buuuurpp!” The loud sound came out of my mouth, as well