“Yes. Frogs.” I pointed. “Look at them. Staring at me with their deceptively disarming eyes. They mock me.”
“The frogs?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “The frogs.”
He didn’t add a word. I pointed again. “Those frogs.”
“Oh!” he said, acknowledging them. “Frogs.”
“Yes… Frogs,” I said. “Ohhh.” Then I bobbed my head. “Froogs,” I said longer.
The man nodded, then frowned. He canted his head, then frowned further. His eyes went from my braid to my mouth.
“Frogs?”he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Sorry, my Os are probably very odd to hear for you.”
“Os?”
“The letter,” I said. “...The letter in frogs. Those frogs. Right there. That’s… I’m sorry. I–I suppose I’m speaking rather fast, aren’t I?” I paused to listen to the bustle around us, then tried to tame the roll of my vowels and pacing. “Anyway, yes, sir. Frogs.”
The man blinked ambiguously.
“I’m lost,” I explained.
He nodded. “Lost.”
“Yes,” I continued slower. “Lost. ….You see, I am certain that I’ve looped this market at least a second or eventhirdtime, mylord, and that is a problem, as I have yet to find the apples. Well, again. I found them before, but…No matter. I was supposed to meet someone, but…I mean, yes, I was perhaps originally intent upon avoiding his company, but then he allowed me some freedom to seek apples, and maybe only under the condition that I meet him back at the stall with frogs, but, and this will sound mad, but, I do think these frogs are different than the frogs that were near the Reds. I know, I know, crazy, but where is the fruit man?” I asked. “And no, it’s not as though I’m not trying to avoid him. Iseethe frogs.” I emphasized the neighboring vendor’s products. “I don’t see the apples.”
“You’re looking for apples?” he said.
I exhaled. “It doesn’t matter. Your Grannies couldn’t possibly be better than our Reds. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time, but honestly, when’s the next opportunity I’ll have to see?”
He rudely narrowed his eyes. “You singled me out to find you Grannies?” he asked.“What?”
“Yes. Grannie apples. The green ones, right? Do you not call them Grannies here?”
“App—Good God. You’re actually talking aboutapples?”he asked.
“Yes…” I said. There was a painful lull. I could not grasp why he struggled so dearly with my explanation. “I’m from Oreia,” I thought to say. “We’re known for our Reds. We don’t harvest many Grannies.”
“I think I gathered that,” he said.
“Good, well, good, I think. Though, you should know, I can’t speak much slower, my lord.”
“I’m confused,” he said.
“Yes, I know, but… Alright, fine.Youpointmetoyourapples.”
“Apples?”he asked.
“Yes.Apples,”I said. “Little round fruit with a stem, and–”
“I’m quite clear on what you’re asking for, thanks. I don’t need it explained!”
“Then why did I have to repeat myself?” I asked.
“I-You’re askingmeabout apples?” he checked. The man scoffed. “Apples?”
