Potatoes were easy to come by, as were eggs—though I didn’t know if I would be able to devil them. I found some small carrots, and got some yeasty dough balls from the baker I could make into some dinner rolls. The problem, though, was the bird.
“Turkey,” I said.
The woman looked at me like I was a moron, which I was. “Tis a strange word, Shamus. What manner of fowl be that?”
“Well, it’s got kind of brownish feathers—”
“Like a hen?” she grabbed a chicken, which squawked like crazy.
“No, not a chicken. Bigger than a chicken. A lot bigger.”
“Do you mean a pheasant?”
Hell if I know.
“Um, well, no. I mean, well, I don’t think so, but maybe they taste the same?”
“Who’s to say? I don’t come by the king’s table, do I?”
“Oh, it’s for rich people, huh? Well, no. Not pheasant, then. Do you have anything else?”
“A duck? Maybe a nice goose. I like a nice goose, meself.”
Probably as close as I’m going to get.
“Um, goose, I guess. Um, can you, you know, get it ready for me?”
“Need to get yourself a wife, Shamus, can do all the women’s work for you,” she gave me a grin, suggesting she might just be that woman.
“Right, I’ll have to look into that.”
Okay, so no turkey. Who knew that the Fairy Tale Realms didn’t have turkey? Gonna be a lousy Thanksgiving.