Chapter 4: Oatmeal, Pickles, and the Return of Hope

The supervisor lifted the flap of a big canvas tent. Instantly, a rich aroma wafted out.

It was the kind of smell that hit you in the gut—warm, sweet, and heavy with promise. Even the wind seemed to pause at the entrance, as if it wanted a taste.

Inside, coolers were filled with steaming, fragrant oatmeal. Everyone stared, eyes wide, unable to stop themselves from swallowing hungrily.

People edged forward, drawn by the sight of real food—actual food, not the pale imitation we’d known. My mouth watered so hard it hurt.

The supervisor gestured for everyone to wait and said:

"Today, everyone gets a bowl of oatmeal and a portion of dill pickles. If you're still hungry, bear with it for now—your bodies might not be able to handle too much right away. After a few days of adjustment, there will be as much oatmeal and pickles as you want!"

His words rolled out smooth and steady, like he’d practiced them for just this moment. There was authority in his voice, but also a kind of gentleness I hadn’t heard from a boss in years.

One laborer gathered his courage and asked timidly:

"S-sir, does that mean... we'll get to eat this every day from now on?"

He looked so hopeful I almost couldn’t watch. He clutched his bowl to his chest like it was a winning lottery ticket.

The supervisor nodded and smiled. "Yes."

The smile reached all the way to his eyes. For a second, he looked as happy as we felt—maybe even more.

A wave of excitement swept through the tent. The first laborers to get their oatmeal didn't care about the heat—they scooped it up and devoured it ravenously.

Somebody let out a whoop. People started eating so fast, they barely had time to breathe. For once, no one was looking over their shoulder for the foreman.

"T-this pickle even has salt?"

"And it's not even that cheap, chunky kind!"

"Wow, I've never eaten such tasty pickles in my life!"

It was true—the pickles were crisp and tangy, nothing like the soggy ones I remembered from school cafeterias. I crunched down and felt my whole body sigh in relief.

Listening to the exclamations around me, I hurried to take a bite as well. The moment the oatmeal entered my mouth, my mind went blank.

Warmth spread through me, and for the first time in months, the ache in my belly eased. I couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except eat.

Delicious... It was just too delicious...

The flavors were simple, but after months of misery, they tasted like a feast. I savored every bite.

It was the best meal I'd ever tasted in my life. By the time I came to my senses, my bowl was already empty.

I blinked down at the empty bowl, almost afraid it would disappear if I touched it.

I was trembling with excitement, tears streaming down my face.

I swiped at my cheeks, embarrassed, but no one seemed to notice—half the tent was crying right along with me. In that moment, hunger and hope mingled together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

When I looked up, I saw the supervisor smiling warmly at us, satisfaction in his eyes.

He stood there, arms folded, watching us like a proud teacher at graduation. For a minute, I forgot how much I hated this place.

At that moment, I suddenly realized: this supervisor was different from any I'd ever known.

A spark of something—trust, maybe—ignited in my chest. I’d never met a boss who looked at us as people, not just numbers. This one, though... he was on our side.