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.