YoTS: Lord January ~ 2!

CHAPTER 2

The smile dropped off his face in an instant as Grant remembered what sleeping in meant on a day like today. Market day. He had forgotten to take the day’s produce to town! “Abyss!”

His caretaker wouldn’t be happy if he found out. Grant could just do it tomorrow; he had a stash of coins saved up in his… house. Shelter. Lean-to. He shook his head, maybe he could just hand over a few…? “It’s a day off, for Regent’s sake! I…”

“No… I have to head to the market.” Knowing his luck, someone would go out of their way to mention that they hadn’t seen ‘that Leap boy’. Leaving everything in a pile outside the barn, he collected the eggs and milk and loaded them onto the cart. The wheel soon squealed in protest and the eggs rattled in their basket as Grant pulled the cart down the bumpy lane at the highest speed he could manage.

Half an hour later Grant arrived at the village nestled below in the valley. It was the first day of spring according to the calendar, but the cold of winter wasn’t ready to give up its hold just yet; clearly shown by the sweet cedar wood smoke puffing out of chimneys. Grant felt his heart sink as he looked down and saw that the market was nearly empty, as it would be on a regular weekday.

That was a surprise; despite it being the first day of the year, traders would have been up early to set up their stalls and sell goods to a waiting crowd. Servants had to do the hard work of preparing the daily feast and vast quantity of delightful snacks for the evening's entertainment. Normally, Grant would have been there with them, up at the break of dawn to complete his list of daily chores. He trundled forward, cart leading the way.

“Hey, Leap! It’s the Leap, guys.” Grant ignored the dark laughter hidden in the voices and pushed the cart calmly towards the stall at the far end of the market. It was one of the few stalls still working at this time of day. “You ignoring me?”

*Splat*.

A projectile thudded against the back on his head; an overripe tomato from the smell and the juice sliding down the back of his neck.

“Aww yeah! Great shot.” another voice congratulated the first. Grant hunkered down, making his bulky profile as small as possible as he continued onward with clenched teeth.

“We’ll be waiting for you, Leap,” the first voice taunted Grant as he hurried away. Moments later, he arrived at the stall he’d been aiming for. An ancient woman sat humming a tune, her beaky nose poking out from behind a black shawl.

“Hello. Madame Mercredi. It’s Grant. Sorry I’m late. I have some eggs and milk to sell if you have a spot for them!”

“Eh. What was that? Speak up, girl. I can’t hear too good. Ma hearin’ ain’t what it use it to be.” Madame Mercredi squinted up at the figure looming above her.

“I said, it’s Grant.”

“Oh. Granite! Why didn’t you say so? I was wondering where you’d gotten off to, lassy.” She chuckled to herself even as she motioned for the goods. “You have such an odd name for a young lady. Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice.” Rather than go through the process of correcting her - again - Grant went to the cart to gather the perishables. He placed them carefully on the table in front of her, but his heart sank when he realized that half of the eggs had broken in the mad dash to the market. At least the milk was okay, being sealed within the jug. He hung his head in his hands and started to break down. This wasn’t how he wanted to start his year.

Despite her rheumy eyes, Madame knew that there was an issue. She grinned at Grant, patting his soft hand with her own wrinkled one. “Don’t worry, dear. I can make an omelet for my snack. You just saved me the trouble of breaking the eggs, look at that! I must be moving up in the world, don’t even need to prep my own meals these days!”

“That is very… kind of you.” He looked up through a fog of tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s one Hour and thirty Minutes for the groceries this last fortnight… and here is another ten Minutes for yourself.” Madame Mercredi went into her purse and carefully counted out a small pile of coins, placing them one at a time into his palm. She flashed a toothy grin up at him and winked. “Eat something, girl. No man is going to want to marry you if you don’t put some meat on yer bones first.”

“Um. Thank you.” Now he was doubly glad that he hadn’t corrected her earlier.

“Oh, and Granite. Happy New Year to you. You rock!” She cackled, pleased with her small burst of inspired humor. “You are going to do great things this year.”

“Happy New Year to you, Madame Mercredi.” He took the previous day’s empty milk jug and was off with a wave. Even though she was sweet, he never let himself get attached to her. Grant knew the truth of the matter: she was only friendly to him since she couldn’t see clearly enough to read his nametag. If she realized he was a leap year child, she would have avoided him like the plague. He was sad to admit that her near-sightedness was the reason he went to her each time: it was the only way to get a fair deal.

Pulling his now-empty cart up to the only other stall still open, Grant contemplated avoiding the stall and the merchant behind the table that only held a few goods; most having sold in the morning rush. The obese merchant raised his head and smiled broadly to the newcomer, sausage fingers spread wide in welcome. The smile quickly faded and the arms snapped shut like a bear trap. “Oh, it’s you! No customers buying breakfast this time of the day, so I need nothing from your filthy barn. Move along. Now. I don’t want to be associated with your type, Leap. Go on. Beat it. Quickly now. A valuable customer may appear at any moment!”

The man made a shooing motion, trying to get rid of the pest. Grant looked around at the empty area. The market was deserted, and both of them knew that no more customers would be visiting today. “Please, sir. I have Time.”

“Time? You have Time to spend? Hmm. Well… I do have this old loaf of bread. It's starting to go stale.” He waggled the loaf in front of him. “It’s yours for only thirty Minutes.”

Grant gasped as the extortionate price. The normal price for a loaf of bread was five Minutes. His stomach was rumbling though, and it was unlikely he’d have anything apart from fruit or milk until tomorrow. Gritting his teeth and taking a deep breath, he slapped the coins on the table. “Fine… I’ll take it.”

The merchant scooped up the coins and suddenly sneezed. Rather than use his sleeve to wipe his nose, he used the loaf of bread. “Whoops! No worries, I won’t even charge extra for that!”

Grant almost walked away, but he had already paid. He took the moistened loaf and placed it on his cart. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to wipe off his food before eating, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.