I crunched on my apple as I sat at the table with Dustin. He had a large black bowl in front of him and was waiting eagerly for his mom to finish up with her cooking. I was leaning back on a small, stout chair that was not nearly big enough for me but was thick enough to bear my weight. Absently I stared at the ceiling as I pushed the limits of how far I could rock the chair with my knees pushed against the table to steady myself. Without warning I felt a sudden flare of pain across my knees, and within a breath heard the clap of the wooden spoon slapping them.

Instantly I fell backwards and landed on my back with my apple firmly clenched between my teeth, elongated and sharp canines digging all the way to the core. My arms were still flailing even as it landed and I felt the rough back dig into my back. Wincing, I rolled over on my side and pushed myself back up to my knees to crouch and pick up the chair. I turned around to the uproarious laughter of the Trugs family.

“Wha?”

They just laughed even harder as I tried to pull the apple out of my sharp upper teeth. My fang-like teeth were difficult enough to use to eat sometimes, but the soft flesh of an apple actually hurt to bite into too deeply. As I slowly wedged my teeth out I chuckled at myself, but not near as much as Ms Trugs who was almost in tears laughing. She was pointing and panting. Every time she tried to speak she would snort loudly and cover her mouth, only to laugh harder. Eventually I heard, between laughter, “Maan… maan kuush kelaan… a toklaal hec!”

Dustin slammed his fist on the table and was rocking with laughter, crying with snot coming from his nose. I corrected the small chair and wiped away tears of laughter of my own as I put the apple on the table and grabbed a bowl instead from the center of the table. “Ok ok, it isn’t that funny y’all,” I said while chuckling. “What did she say I looked like? I didn’t know those last words.”

My friend wiped his nose with the back of his hand and spread it across his pants. Shaking his head and trying to calm down from his laughing fit. He pointed at the apple and began laughing again. While he was trying to explain, Ms Trugs walked back to the brick cooking area and stoked the fire, opened a large iron pot and stirred the contents. “She said, you looked like a stuffed pig.”

“I’m done with you,” I said with a loud laugh. “Let's just eat and go before Mr Tumlin leaves without us.”

Ms Tugs brought us both a large bowl of runny grits and fresh butter. She put a chunk of some type of boiled meat in the bowls, and I graciously accepted. I had long since learned not to ask what the meat was at the Trugs house. I poked at it with my knife a bit, thinking it looked like a bit of stomach lining, but was just happy it was cooked - she must have known I was coming to eat. After breakfast we grabbed our stuff, said goodbye, and headed to Mr Tumlin’s house.