Aix Marks the Spot
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
French (General) North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
what did he say? I asked, my impromptu translator. He said next week, you know them all? He replied, looks like you've got homework. I liked the way he said them. The th not even attempted, just completely replaced by a Z xem like a new pronoun or something waiting to be discovered. I pushed my bike along as he read the list, checking my basket for the foods I had already purchased at this point. I only had coins left and they jingled in my pocket as we strolled along. It looks like you have everything but you're so she's alone And she's, he said, handing me back the list. You shop for you. My mommy, I took it and slipped it in the pocket along with the money. The way he rolled his ours No Jamie, stay focused here. Don't let acute accent distract from the job at hand. She speaks french. I don't you here for the summer, then? He asked, Visiting. I nodded. He didn't need the details. And you local. I live with my mother in the village. He gestured down the road. I'm valentine by the way. And you are valentine. Valentin? He exaggerated. It was as if the entire last syllable was scooped from his mouth before he could finish saying it. Jamie, I replied. Not willing to embarrass myself further by trying again. Jimmy, Jamie! Not hard at all to say, he replied, chuckling. Okay, so the song. We stopped at one of the stalls with the dried hams and he stepped up to the owner to chat. He seemed to know everyone in the market. Perks of being local, I supposed. Who's your mommy again? He asked me. She didn't say what kind of sauces on she wanted, but Mark might know It's collect, I replied, butchering her name. Colette martin. The butcher's eyes went wider than dinner plates. Sit in the petite feet, Nicorette! He stammered and valentine nodded the curl on his forehead, sliding up and down. The two of them chatted as I waited in my corner. The man shooting glances in my direction every few seconds as if to check I was still here. I wasn't sure if he expected me to run away or if he thought I would go up in a puff of smoke. The way he was talking made it sound like my grandmother was some kind of witch valentine. Finally wrapped it up and I got my log of dried meat. Was it some kind of salami? What was he saying? I asked about my grandma. Oh nothing valentine shucked. Just small village drama. You know how it goes? I don't, I replied, I'm from philadelphia. That's not exactly small town living philadelphia. Rocky. Yeah. He put his fists in the air. Yeah. Rocky. I laughed but my heart wasn't in it. I wanted to know what people were saying about mommy. The last thing on the list is the cheese said valentine and the note said it was for you to choose how much coin do you have left? I counted my cash but it wasn't even €10 valentine didn't seem to think that was an issue. What kind of cheese is do you like? He asked before shaking his head. Wait, don't answer. You don't know real cheese? I scoffed. Don't know real cheese please. I shop the good stuff. Yeah. What color and how flat? He rolled his eyes, leading us to the table. I had seen earlier with the big wheels of cheese. If I had looked closer earlier, I would have seen the rows of small round ones in crates, each a different shade of white and some covered in spices. Our cheese is good, I muttered. If you left it outside would bacteria completely avoided? He laughed. Trust me, you've never had real cheese before. I don't trust anything called cheese by a country that puts it in a can. We do not. My mind flashed back to when I was eight, spraying Cheez whiz on crackers. Exactly, Let me make you a selection.