In the Apple

Chapter 10

As we progressed down-town, the shops, buildings and people populating the streets changed. We moved from elegant canopies and uniformed doormen, helping smartly dressed ultra-confident people out of taxis and limousines to what looked to me like ordinary people going about their everyday lives among still exciting, but more ordinary-looking shops and buildings, moving gradually to a more exotic population, according to my small-town eyes. There were people of all colours wearing such a variety of clothing that I was reminded of a childhood book I'd had called "Children of All Nations", which was filled with pictures of the clothes worn, homes inhabited, and toys played with by children the world over. There were hippes of all ages, and men wearing make-up. Smithy led me in to the entrance to a park that was thickly settled with umbrella-covered booths selling everything from food and flowers to clothing, jewellery and household goods. Narrow pathways wound between the booths, with occasional openings containing benches or tiny groupings of tables and chairs. I turned to Smithy eagerly. "Is this Greenwich Village?" I asked, excitedly.

He gave me the kind of smile grown-ups give children when they've asked something endearingly stupid. "No, this is just a street market in a park. " He pointed to a far corner of the park, where a building was just visible above the tree line. "That's where I live," he announced, with something that looked to me like pride.

"That's nice," I said politely, eyes already straying to the various stalls. I wandered towards one that seemed to be attracting a small group of young hippie types. It was a leather-maker selling pouches, handbags, and sandals. I picked up a pair of sandals to inspect more closely. I didn't want to admit it, but Smithy had a point about the stockings - but there was no way I was going to wear ankle socks with my African dress, simply not a chance! If I could buy some sandals, and then find a ladies' room somewhere, I could take off my shoes and stockings and be a lot more comfortable.

"Those are on sale," said a voice in my ear. I looked up and saw a smiling young man standing behind the tangled, heaped table from which I'd pulled the sandals. "$5.00".

'Wow,' I thought, doing a quick mental inventory of my wallet. 'I could manage that, just.' "What size are they?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Try them on," he suggested. I perched on one foot and, hanging on to the edge of the table, bent down, removed my shoe, and tried on the sandal. It seemed to fit. "Try the other one," he advised. I shifted position and repeated the manoeuvre with the other foot, then walked a few steps. They fit! They felt great, and I already felt cooler, even with the stockings on.

"I'll take them!" I said smiling, snapping my handbag open. As I bent down to take them off he said, "Why don't you just put your shoes in this bag instead?"

"Good idea!" I said happily, handing him my shoes and $5.00. He handed me back my shoes in a heavy paper shopping bag with handles, said "Thanks," and turned to serve someone else. I skipped happily away from the stall, eyes already gazing at next one, having totally forgotten about Smithy until he spoke. "There you go!" he said, "Now, all you need to do is get rid of those stockings."

"I'm okay," I said. "These sandals make it much better."

He said nothing, and just followed me around as I bounced from one stall to another, trying on earrings, admiring pretty, gauzy, floral blouses, even stopping to appreciate a stall of beautifully arranged vegetables. It was late morning, and the heat was rising to form a shimmering haze in the air. I became aware that I was very thirsty. I thought about finding a drink of water and then a ladies' room where I could remove not only my stockings, but also my white cotton slip, which suddenly seemed like a ridiculous and unnecessary garment. My need for water was building to desperation, and I scanned the stalls for the nearest source. As I spun around, I felt momentarily dizzy, and wobbled again. Smithy was immediately at my elbow. "Look here, girl," he said imperatively, "I only live right over there. Come on and use my bathroom, get changed and have a nice cold drink, and then when you're refreshed we can continue down to the Village. It's another 20-minute walk in this heat. You'll never make it."