Chapter 146

The street market is a world I did not know existed and I’m annoyed at myself for not knowing it existed because it’s truly extraordinary.

It runs two full blocks, dense and colorful and loud in the way that is interesting rather than overwhelming, with stalls selling everything from secondhand books to handmade jewelry to food that smells so good I make an actual involuntary sound when we walk past one particular corner. Eli buys me something fried and wrapped in paper from a stall run by an old man who Eli calls tiger for some reason.

“How does he know you?” I ask, unwrapping the paper, and whatever is inside is so good I immediately stop forming other thoughts.

“I’ve been coming here since I was twelve,” Eli says, in the easy way he talks about his neighborhood, matter-of-fact and without the self-consciousness that comes from people who mistake simplicity for something to be embarrassed about.

I ask him things and he answers them, he doesn’t seem to ge