To Market, To Market {Eliza}
Jun 16, 2012 19:24:33 GMT -5
Post by Minerva on Jun 16, 2012 19:24:33 GMT -5
Piper Kiehl
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It was Saturday, also known as shopping day in the Kiehl home. Because Pearl Kiehl was not particularly industrious, today, as usual, she sent out her daughter Piper to make the necessary trades and purchases. As Piper enjoyed the atmosphere of the market and the time it gave her to think, she never complained. She wasn’t the complaining sort of child anyway. Located by the main wharf at the center of local industry, the market was crowded with all sorts of booths. Okay, mostly seafood stands. But it really was an exciting place if you were small enough to navigate the sea of people. The calls of the merchants from behind their stands, the stink of their wares, the less offensive scents of fresh bread and produce, the enticing glint of pearls from the luxury stands, the sound of people laughing and talking on all sides; it was the sort of place where a girl could go to see all sorts of people, and still feel peacefully alone.
Her errands list that morning led Piper through a series of bargainings, a task which was less than pleasing to the young girl. Paying a set price? Yes. Being pleasant to local merchants? Yes. Haggling over a couple crab legs? No. Piper was strong, but not like that. That sort of obnoxious demanding and uncompromising confidence was far outside of her skill set. Still, the deals must be made, so Piper would do her best. By mid-morning her list was almost complete, all that remained was fruit. This would be the hard part. The man who ran the best fruit stand at the market also happened to be the the most notorious of the merchants for swindling their customers. He liked to wheel and deal. “Les Crabtree,” folks would say, “quote you double the price a thing is worth but have you pay triple.”
This is who Piper had to deal with. And she didn’t like it. She trudged over to Crabtree’s Fruit Stand, resigned once again to her appointed task. Waiting in the corner until most of the crowd had cleared, Piper watched as Les Crabtree swindled customer after customer. Finally, when everyone else was gone, Piper approached Crabtree. “Excuse me, Mr. Crabtree?” The merchant ignored her. She tried again. “Excuse me, Mr. Crabtree, I’d like to buy some berries.” Piper sighed. She was used to being ignored by her family, but not by merchants. That was just rude. After all, their job was to help their customers. But since the idea of persisting and perhaps annoying this rude middle-aged man made Piper’s skin crawl with discomfort, she decided to just go home and tell her mother that Crabtree’s Fruit Stand hadn’t been open today. That was when Piper felt someone tap her on the shoulder.