Rod, again - Chapter 5, The drive

Rod shuffled into his apartment and collapsed on the couch. Now that he was away from the awful smell of frybread his mind was clearing. He replayed the previous few minutes in his head and tried to figure out how things had gotten so messed up. Cindy was upset, that much was certain. By now, she had probably finished telling her folks what a creep he was. Still, he couldn’t see what he’d done wrong. It was Cindy who jumped to the wrong conclusion. He hadn’t kept anything of any importance from her. He was in the right, he was sure of it.

Rod sat and wondered what would happen next. Ever since he’d started dating Cindy it had seemed too good to be true. He spent the first couple weeks of their relationship certain she would dump him at any moment. Gradually, he’d become more secure, confident even. Now, here he was, right where he feared he’d be. He contemplated staying on the couch, sulking for awhile and then getting on with his life. He began running through the changes he would need to make. His camera was at Cindy’s place - he’d need to get that back. And most of the food in his cupboard was stuff she liked more than he did. She could have it. And the apartment; he’d need to find a new place - that would be a pain. Rod felt an intense sadness overtaking him as he made his mental list. He kept telling himself it was over, that she had probably been looking for an excuse to break up. But he wasn’t convinced. Rod allowed himself to consider the possibility that Cindy did really care for him. It seemed like she did, or had anyway. She was nothing if not sincere. Fighting his instinct to assume the worst, Rod decided he would not accept that the relationship was over without at least trying to explain things to Cindy. He was nervous and scared but he kept reminding himself that he had nothing to lose at this point. Rod took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom. He would talk to Cindy, but first he needed to rinse out his mouth and brush his teeth.

Cindy sat on her bed, holding the phone. Her first impulse upon entering her apartment had been to call her mother. After getting her parent’s answering machine, Cindy recalled her mother mentioning an upcoming meeting of the Society to Prevent Cruelty to Squirrels. Her mother was a board member. Cindy left a quick message asking her to call back as soon as possible. As Cindy sat on the bed willing her phone to ring, she felt her anger subsiding, being replaced by sadness.

Cindy heard the sink in Rod’s apartment. He’s in there, she thought. She wanted to run to his apartment and scream at him for ruining everything. Anger began to push out the sadness. She didn’t like either feeling. The water stopped running and she tried to imagine what he was doing. Suddenly, it occurred to her that that woman might be in there with him. The thought made her sick. She found herself straining to hear what Rod was doing. She hated that she cared, but she couldn’t help it. It was quiet so she moved closer to the wall, breathing as lightly as possible. Listening...so quiet, what is he doing? Suddenly, someone knocked on her door. It startled her so much that she let out a little “Eep!” before realizing what it was. She hurried to the door and peered into the peephole. It was Rod.

Cindy tentatively opened the door just enough to see Rod. She looked at him but said nothing. Rod looked pale, a little shaken. Cindy wondered if he was feeling guilty about his little secret or if he was truly not feeling well. She waited for Rod to speak; he appeared to be trying to figure out what to say. After a few more moments of silence, she finally couldn’t stand it. “Did you have something to say, Rod?”

“Cindy,” Rod began slowly, “I know you’re upset with me, I know you’re angry. But, I promise you, I can explain everything. Everything.”

“Rod, I’m not interested in whatever story you’ve come up with. You should have told me about Nina, plain and simple.”

Rod took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He looked directly at Cindy and tried to remain calm. “Cindy, please. I’m not asking you to listen to a story, just take a ride with me. One short car ride and you’ll see that I didn’t hide anything from you and that I’d never met that woman before.”

Cindy frowned; Rod’s statement was a bit difficult to believe. “And if I don’t see it?”

“Then, I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll find a new place and get out of your life. But I really hope that doesn’t happen.”

Cindy bit her lip. She didn’t know what sort of ride Rod thought would fix everything. His car was nice but not that nice. Still, she wanted to believe there was a chance he could make things right.
“Okay,” she whispered, “Whatever. Let’s go then.”

Rod drove Cindy to a part of town that was unfamiliar to her. He did not speak to her while they rode. This surprised Cindy. She assumed he wanted her in the car so she would be a captive audience while he tried to explain things. She had accepted the ride because she was mildly curious to see how he would explain away Nina. Instead, he said nothing. She looked over at him but he seemed focused. He was leaning forward, obviously anxious to get to their destination. Cindy had worried that he was taking her too see that woman, but Rod had assured her that they would not leave the car and that she would not be asked to speak to anyone. As he turned onto a side road, Rod relaxed a bit and sat back in his seat. After going about a half-mile, Rod slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. He stopped the car and looked at Cindy.

“Look around”, Rod said.

Cindy looked around. There was nothing about the area that stood out. A gas station and car wash, a couple of fast food chains, a couple of local food stands. It was all very common. Cindy looked back at Rod and then followed his gaze. He was staring at a dingy drive-up across the street. Cindy looked more closely at the place. Finally, her eyes rested on the sign above the building, “Nina’s Original Frybread” it read. Cindy noticed the dark-haired girl in the sign, the feather earrings. “Nina?”, she said at last.

“I guess so, maybe at one time,” said Rod. “I used to get food from here all the time. Remember, I said I ate a lot of unhealthy stuff. I never met her though. I always ordered from some guy - I think his name was Rick, or something like that. I didn’t even know there was an actual Nina until today.”

Cindy replayed the events from earlier, outside the apartment. “So, her ‘treats’ were frybread?”

Rod nodded. “I used to eat it all the time. Now I can’t even stand the smell of it. She tried to give me some outside the apartment, but it made me vomit. I was feeling so nauseous when you were talking to me that I couldn't respond. I could barely breathe.”

Cindy considered the events of the afternoon. Rod’s explanation was more in character with the man she knew. She wondered how she’d ever jumped to such wild conclusions. The thought of Rod with Nina seemed ridiculous to her now, although she still thought Nina looked like a cheap hooker. Cindy realized that Rod had done nothing wrong and yet he hadn’t acted angry toward her. He was a special man and she had treated him badly.

“Rod,” Cindy said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t believe I thought that you and she were...well, I’m sorry. You must hate me.”

Cindy felt a tear trickle down her cheek but she made no attempt to dry her face. Her nose felt runny and she sniffed a couple of times but she fought the urge to cry by biting the inside of her lip. She had used this technique in the past and was aware it only worked for a little while. Rod looked directly at her as she spoke, but she couldn’t read his feelings. He didn’t look angry or sad or happy or glum. If anything, he looked a bit nervous.

Cindy finished speaking and Rod reached over and took her hand. He looked down, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you, Cindy.” he whispered. “When I was in my apartment I realized how much I need you, love you.”

Cindy bit down harder on her lip, but a few sobs slipped out anyway. “Oh, Rod. I love you, too.” The last words were barely a whisper as she stifled a sob.

Rod looked up at Cindy. “Will you marry me?” he asked, suddenly.

Cindy’s eyes widened. The question caught her off guard. They’d never discussed marriage before although Cindy had thought about it from time to time. Now, as she looked at Rod, she realized it was what she wanted as well. “Yes.” Cindy replied, smiling.

Rod leaned toward Cindy, lips puckered.

“Oh sweetie,” sighed Cindy, “I’d love to kiss you but my lip is really really sore.”

Rod, again - Chapter 4, Plan B

Rico was wiping the counter when Nina’s car pulled up next to the shop. He watched her as she climbed out and made her way to the side door. He knew she’d gone to see Old Stinky but he couldn’t tell from her expression if she’d been able to convince him to return. Privately, Rico was glad he was gone. He still recalled bracing himself when he saw the stinky truck at the drive-through window. As Nina entered, Rico looked at her expectantly, hoping she would relay the details of her visit. Instead, Nina quickly slipped into her office and closed the door. Rico frowned. He deduced that things had not gone well.

Fifteen minutes later, Nina emerged. Rico was still wiping the counter. It was the mid-afternoon lull. The evening rush wouldn’t start for at least another hour. Rico didn’t notice Nina. He was lost in thought, daydreaming that he was a ninja, silently wiping the counters. Rico was fascinated with ninjas and often imagined he was one. His understanding about them was sadly limited, however. He knew they wore black and he knew they moved silently. He was unsure about anything else they actually did. Consequently, when Rico dreamed of being a ninja, he was still doing his normal tasks, just silently and wearing black. Even so, Rico found this exciting. Counter wiping was especially satisfying because it was something Rico could already do fairly quietly. It provided a sort of validation to him that perhaps he did possess the heart of a ninja. He was thinking about this when Nina spoke. Her voice, suddenly present and so near, startled him. He jumped and made a very un-ninja-like squeak. She’s the real ninja, Rico thought. Overweight and old, she was still quiet as a cat - even in flip-flops.

“Rico” Nina began, “As you may have guessed, it didn’t go real well with Rod today.”

Rico nodded and tried to look serious. He threw in a little frown for good measure.

Nina continued, “Rod has cleaned up from how you described him. He doesn’t stink at all. In fact, he seems to be hypersensitive regarding odors. He has apparently developed some sort of aversion to our fine food. He can’t bear to smell it, let alone eat it. Why, when I offered him a free frybread, he puked on my feet!”

Nina heard a sound from the kitchen. She couldn’t be certain, but it sounded a bit like a chuckle. Apparently, Chet was enjoying her troubles.

“Anyway,” Nina went on, “I have a special assignment for you, if you’re willing. I’d like you to spy on Rod for a day or two and find out what sort of food he does enjoy. We may not be able to accommodate him, but I want to know that for sure. So far, I know he seems to eat a lot of carrots.” Nina raised her voice, “Chet, I know you’re listening, this involves you as well. Depending on what Rico finds, we may have to come up with some new menu offerings.” She knew that would get his attention.

Chet popped his head out from the kitchen. He had been lobbying for changes to the menu for years but Nina refused to budge. “Really?” he said, somewhat exasperated, “After all this time and all the things I’ve suggested; now you’re willing to try new things? All for one guy?”

“One guy who used to be our best customer,” Nina reminded him. “The type of customer we want to keep. I want him back, and more like him.”

Rico only vaguely paid attention to their conversation. In his mind, he was already dressed like a ninja, lurking outside Rod’s home. He eagerly accepted Nina’s request and spent the rest of the day mentally preparing. Nina advised him to wait a few days before beginning his surveillance. She wanted to give Rod some time to recover from the incident in the parking lot. That was fine with Rico, he needed time to shop for some black clothing.

Rod, again - Chapter 3, Nina's sweet treats

Nina opened her frybread shop thirty-one years ago. Her first choice for a name was “Nina’s Authentic Frybread” but she was mildly worried that someone might challenge how authentic her frybread was. The food was generally associated with Native Americans not Polish-Americans, like Nina. Instead, she named the place “Nina’s Original Frybread”. Even this was a bit of a lie since she had stolen the recipe from the mother of an old boyfriend.

The shop started and remained fairly simple. The menu was limited and hadn’t changed substantially over the years. Nina knew that much of her clientele cherished this stability. Nina’s place offered a welcome refuge from a world that was changing ever more quickly. Early on, Nina designed the artwork for the foil that almost all food items were wrapped in. It featured Nina’s smiling face next to the tag-line: “Nina’s Original Frybread - So good you’ll want more.” Nina’s dark hair flowed out beneath the lettering as if there was a slight breeze. Each ear sported an earring that looked like two small feathers. Nina felt the feathers gave her an “authentic” look without making any specific claims. Originally, they existed only in her imagination, drawn by an artist friend, but Nina later had an actual silver pair made to match. She never went out in public without them. She also kept her hair long and raven black. It was a bold look for a woman over sixty but there was seldom any doubt that she was the Nina of “Nina’s Original Frybread”.

It had taken some detective work, but Nina had finally located Rod Piston. Luckily for her, one of her regular patrons worked for the police department and was happy to help her out. As she stood in the parking lot, she was suddenly unsure what her next step should be. She’d been watching people come and go, studying their faces. She had a picture of Rod but she doubted she had ever met him. Rico told her she would have remembered the smell. She didn’t have much direct involvement with the shop’s day-to-day operations anymore. She'd knocked on the door to his apartment and felt a sense of relief when no one answered. She was about to leave when she noticed the couple coming up the sidewalk. It was difficult to be sure, but it could be him. He was with a pretty young woman. The couple had noticed her staring at them.

Nina waited until they were about to turn into the apartment complex. “Rod?” she said, “Rod Piston, is that you?”

Rod turned and looked at the woman. She seemed familiar but he couldn’t place the face. Cindy looked at her and then turned to Rod. “Rod, who is that?” she asked.

“I’m not sure," Rod replied. "She seems familiar, but I don’t know from where.”

“Well, she seems to know you. Talk to her.”

Rod looked at Nina again. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Nina sighed and tried to look crestfallen. “Oh Rod, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. It hasn’t been that long. Don’t you remember? Every morning, every evening. You were my best customer.”

Rod stared at her, trying to recall. He could hear Cindy asking him again about this woman but Rod was concentrating. He heard Cindy saying something about secrets and how much she hated them. Cindy was also curious as to what sort of customer he had been and about just what this woman was selling. Rod wondered that himself. He was about to respond to Cindy when he noticed the feather earrings and something clicked inside his brain. “Nina?” he said at last.

Nina smiled. “So you do remember. I thought so.”

Cindy’s voice was louder now. “Rod, do you know this woman? Who is she? Nina? Rod, why haven’t you mentioned her before? What did she mean, you we’re her best customer? Rod, I don't like this.”

Rod could hear Cindy but he couldn’t speak. Nina had opened her car door slightly and his highly honed nose had locked into a nauseating smell emanating from inside. He swallowed hard and fought the urge to vomit.

Nina decided Rod’s silence meant he wanted to hear more. The pretty young girl was upset but Nina didn’t care. She looked like a health-nut type. She was probably the reason Rod had stopped coming by in the first place. Nina decided a little friction in that relationship could only help her cause. “Rod, I can’t believe you just stopped coming by. Don’t you miss my sweet treats?”

Cindy glared at Nina and then turned to Rod. She was shouting now. “Rod! What is she talking about? Rod, say something!” Cindy paused and assessed this woman. What could she tell about her? Overweight, older with unnaturally dark black hair. Wearing a bright floral print sun dress meant for someone a few sizes smaller. Cindy came to an obvious if erroneous explanation. "Rod," she said in a quieter voice, "Is she a prostitute?”

Rod groaned and swallowed hard.

Nina remembered something Rico had told her about Rod. “If I remember right, you liked it with honey, didn’t you?”

“Ew!” shrieked Cindy, “That's so gross! Rod, you shouldn't have kept this from me, you know I don’t like secrets! ”

Cindy started sobbing and ran into the apartment. Rod tried to stop her but he could barely stand.

Nina grabbed Rod's arm, “Rod, I have a surprise for you.”

Nina reached into her car and retrieved a frybread wrapped in foil. She pulled back the foil and thrust it at Rod. Grease dripped onto the pavement between them. Rod could contain it no more. He vomited onto Nina’s feet.

Nina jumped back and looked at her feet. “Good grief, man. These are practically new flip-flops.” She shook Rod's picnic lunch off her foot and then paused and studied it for a moment. “Do you eat anything besides carrots?” she asked at last.

Rod turned and stumbled into his apartment.

Rod, again - Chapter 2, Picnic

Rod and Cindy were enjoying a picnic at the park. It was Cindy's idea and Rod happily agreed. Cindy took the lead on most of the things they did and this was fine with Rod. As long as they were together, Rod was happy.

Rod looked across the blanket at Cindy. She was leaning back with her eyes closed. A faint breeze played with her short brown hair. Rod once again found himself wondering why she chose to spend her time with him. In his mind, she was perfect and he was flawed. Cindy opened her eyes and smiled at him. Rod smiled back.

Their relationship had started cautiously, each unsure of the other. They had adjacent apartments and both knew that if things ended poorly, someone would need to move. But things had only gotten better as they had gotten to know one another. This fact amazed Rod. Honesty was important to Cindy. Early on, she insisted that there be no secrets between them. They had shared everything of any importance about their past. Rod had not held back. He had no interest in pretending to be something that he wasn't. If Cindy didn't like it, it was better to find out early rather than get hurt later.

At first, Cindy thought Rod was kidding when he described his former self. She had trouble imagining him as the overweight, arrogant, smelly pig that he claimed he’d been. But Rod was adamant and she realized he was serious. Rod explained how his hampered sense of smell had made him unaware of his offensive body odor. His inability to discern smells also affected his sense of taste. Consequently, he’d sought refuge in a few unhealthy foods that had at least some flavor to him. His disability could not, however, excuse his behavior. Rod knew there was no good reason why he’d spent most of his life being an obnoxious jerk. The accident had been a wake-up call. When he realized how people were laughing at him behind his back, he dropped all attempts at being his old self. For a long time he just didn’t care. He was still tentative around people, assuming they might mock him at any moment. Rod knew he was a very different person that he had been, but he wasn’t sure why. He wondered if the transplant he’d received to restore his sense of smell had also implanted something else, maybe a new sense of self.

The old Rod had boasted about numerous girlfriends. The new Rod admitted that the number was vastly overinflated. There had only been a few girlfriends, none since he moved to Arizona, and only one he would classify as a serious relationship. Rod told Cindy about Debbie, how he had left her over a decade ago, how she came back into his life a couple of years ago, how things finally ended with her. Cindy listened attentively but never said anything judgmental. She did ask Rod why he left Debbie. Rod didn’t have an answer. He didn’t really know why, it was just time to move on.

Rod did his best to explain his messed up family. His mother, Patsy, still lived in the house where he grew up. She was the only immediate family member whose whereabouts Rod knew but he had little contact with her. She was obsessed with her cat, Miss Trudy. There had been a succession of cats over the years, always white Persian, always named Miss Trudy. Rod felt that his mother loved the cats more than her own children. His mother did little to disprove this.

Rod had an older sister, Rhonda. She ran away after an ugly cat-flinging incident when he was in high school. Even though Rhonda claimed it was an accident, their mother accused her of purposely trying to injure Miss Trudy (the 1st). After a couple of days of continuous bickering and shouting, Rhonda threw some things in a backpack and walked out the door. Rod had not heard from her since.

Rod’s father, Don, ran away a few months after Rod moved out. He called Rod and told him he couldn’t stay in a house where he was second fiddle to a feline. Rod realized that his father had probably wanted to leave sooner but stayed for his son’s sake. Rod didn’t know where his father was or what he was doing. Occasionally, he would receive a card in the mail or a late-night telephone call from him. The last contact with him was over five years ago. Rod had moved since then and he wondered if his father could find him if he wanted to.

Cindy listened to Rod’s history with compassion. She didn’t laugh or even giggle when he described his mother’s obsession with Miss Trudy. Rod noticed tears in her eyes when talked about his sister and his father. She genuinely seemed to care. Rod was unsure how to react to such a kind person.

Cindy’s past sounded like it had been written for a television family of the 1950s or 1960s. She was an only child. Her family was from Vermont. She still kept in contact with many friends from high school and college. Even though she was younger than Rod, she’d had many more relationships - at least eight that she considered serious. Her father, Conrad Newman, was CEO of Newman Financial Enterprises. Her mother, Beverly, volunteered for various social causes and doted over her daughter. Cindy spoke to her parents weekly and had already told them all about Rod. This information made Rod uneasy. He was pretty certain they would want someone better spending time with their little girl.

Rod had to admit that having no secrets with Cindy was liberating. She knew every flaw, every embarrassing tidbit that he could remember. He was able to simply be himself with her. He sensed that she felt the same way.

Cindy sat up and looked at her watch. “I think picnic time is about over. Shall we go home?”

Rod nodded and stood. Cindy repacked their basket and Rod folded the blanket. Arm in arm, they walked through the park. Their apartment complex was only a half mile away. They walked most of the way silently. It wasn’t until they were almost to the main entrance that Cindy noticed the heavyset woman standing in the parking lot watching them. Rod noticed her as well. She seemed vaguely familiar.

Rod, again - Chapter 1, Nina's lost customer

Nina Orbansky stared at the spreadsheet on her home computer. Revenue was off again, just like it had been for almost two years. At first, she attributed the fall-off to the economy. People were cutting expenses, staying home instead of eating out. She'd spoken to other restaurant owners, they'd seen a small drop-off as well. Initially, she wasn't worried. They'll come back, she thought, they always do.

Nina always referred to her place as a restaurant even though it was really just a small drive-up shop. The ‘dining area’ consisted of a few picnic tables scattered next to the order window. A few years ago, she had renovated the place and added a drive-through window. She hadn’t increased the number of employees, though. She still had just two; Rico, who filled orders at both windows and Chet, the cook. Rico was a sweet fellow but not particularly bright. He was good with customers, though, able to engage them in small-talk and make them feel like regulars even if it was their first visit. Chet was an able cook although he could get a bit surly. Nina was aware that Chet had once had ambitions to be a chef and she was sure he felt his current occupation was beneath him. He could be unpleasant, but as long as he stayed in the kitchen, it didn’t bother her.

Nina double-checked the figures. Something wasn’t right. The numbers were still down even though other places were starting to show signs of a recovery. Plus, her revenue had dropped far lower than what the rest of the market was reporting. Something else was going on. She reached for the telephone and dialed the restaurant number. In a moment, Rico answered.

"Nina's Original Frybread, how can I help you?"

"Good morning, Rico. How are you?"

Rico smiled when he heard his boss's voice. He liked Nina. She was kinder than many of the bosses he'd worked for in the past. He'd been working for her for over five years and never thought about looking for anything else. "I'm good. And you?"

"Fine, but I need to ask about business."

Even though Nina couldn’t see him, Rico tried to look serious. Nina rarely asked his opinion about the business, or anything else for that matter. He was anxious to contribute. “Yes, yes,” he said, clearing his throat, “Business. Business is...busy...and, er, good?”

“Actually, business is not so good.” Nina said, patiently.

“That’s what I meant. Not good, been slow for awhile now.”

“Yes, Rico. I’m trying to figure out why.”

“I see, I see.”

Rico was trying his best to think hard. Someone had come to the window, but Rico ignored them. The customer didn’t mind - Rico looked like he was suffering from a massive headache. His face was scrunched up and turning red. Suddenly, he unscrunched and his eyes grew wide. A thought had actually occurred to him. “I think I know why business is off,” he stated.

Nina was surprised. The call to Rico was an act of desperation. She hadn’t really expected him to have any insight. “So you know why business is down?” she asked, doubtfully.

“It’s because El Stinko is gone.”

Nina winced at the remark. “Rico, you know I don’t like it when you refer to customers like that. Besides, I doubt one customer would make a noticeable difference.”

“He would. He used to come by twice a day, once in the morning and again in the evening. Plus, for his morning visit, he would buy breakfast plus lunch. That’s three meals a day, every day.”

Nina considered Rico’s statement and then punched some numbers into her calculator. “Rico, do you remember what he ordered?”

Rico thought for a moment. He was excited to be able to help Nina. “Let’s see, he always ordered the jumbo deluxe, super-sized - two of them in the morning. And a six-pack of Diet Coke. I think that’s right.”

Nina entered the numbers into the calculator. She was surprised by the impact this one customer had on her bottom line. If she had him back, everything would be fine. “Rico, do you know what happened to him, or what his name is?”

“I don’t know. He just stopped coming. Maybe he died - he didn’t seem real healthy.”

“I wish we could find out.” Nina said.

“Just follow your nose,” Rico chuckled, “He was a real stinky fellow. Or maybe it was all them dead animals.”

“Dead animals?”

“Yeah, he sometimes had some in the back of his truck. What kind of person keeps dead animals in their truck?”

Nina knew what kind of person. She’d seen them cleaning up roadkill along the highway from time to time. “Thanks, Rico, I’ve gotta go. You’ve been a real help.”

Rico hung up and smiled to himself. Finally, he was able to help Nina. It felt good. Suddenly, he noticed the customer, still waiting at the window. With a big grin, he took their order.

Nina spent the rest of the afternoon tracking down her mystery customer. At one point she called Rico to get a description of the man. Unfortunately, all Rico remembered was his awful odor. Amazingly, this turned out to be enough. After talking to a couple different state roadkill service centers, she learned that there had been a fellow whose smell stood out, even amongst a pretty stinky crowd. Finally, she was connected with the receptionist where the man had worked. The girl was chatty and Nina learned the whole story. There had been an accident almost two years ago. Afterwards, the man was a different person. He quit his job, cleaned up, lost weight. Even his personality seemed different.

Well, Nina thought, he might be a changed man, but he still has to eat. If he used to like her food, then he should like it again. Nina Orbansky decided to contact this man, Rod Piston.

Wrong Smells

Apple pie. That was what I smelled. It took me a moment to identify the scent. It smelled good, too - like it was warm, maybe fresh out of the oven. I knew there was no actual pie, but I had skipped lunch and the sweet aroma made me even hungrier. I privately cursed the evil scientist that had conjured up the mix of chemicals necessary to trick me into thinking I smelled something that wasn't there. The odiferous release was apparently triggered by moisture for I hadn't smelled anything initially. Apple pie has always been a favorite of mine but I fear this new association will taint that experience as well. What sick person makes an apple pie-scented urinal cake?