Jasper Dash and the Flame-Pits of Delaware by M.T. Anderson

studifying real hard.”
    â€œOh,” explained Lily softly, “we’re not Doverians. We’re just visiting from another state.”
    â€œAha!” The woman laughed, covering herforehead with her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were small Delawarian orphans with bright shining eyes! What a silly mistake.” She sat down beside them. “How long have you been here? Don’t you just love it?” she asked. Before Lily could respond, the woman continued, “I mean, wow, I just feel so fulfilled. Every day I’m having new experiences. I’ve seen all these palaces and temples and museums, and I’ve gone to all these bazaars, and yesterday I had a real interview with the secret police, and they were really nice and interested in me and everything I had to say. Then later this guy—oh, one sec.” She waved to a street vendor, who rolled his rattling cart and umbrella over. She ordered some kind of chicken sausage.
    The man shrugged, pointed to his mouth and his ear, and said apologetically, “Has no English. No English.”
    Lisa Buldene whispered to the kids, “I love how they talk here. It’s so quaint and darling. You can tell they’re a very simple, basic people.”
    She shouted a few words in broken Doverianthat, translated into English, would be something like,
Me want to has the thicken.
    The sausage salesman’s eyes winced with uncertainty.
The thicken?
he asked.
    She jabbed a finger at the chicken.
Thicken! Thicken!
she demanded.
    The man smiled and responded in Doverian,
Ah, madam, indeed, I see! You mean one of my fine chicken-dogs. Superlative. I believe you will find it to your taste, zesty with spices culled in the hanging gardens of Eberton. The meat is rich with drippings.
He served her a sausage wrapped in flatbread.
You speak Doverian?
he asked her.
    Me sauce
, she answered, pointing. He gave her some ketchup. She handed him a big, messy wad of cash. He looked at it in surprise. Then he tipped his cap, looked at her like she was crazy, and strolled away with his cart, shaking his head.
    â€œWasn’t he a cute old guy? They’re all so beautiful. They have such lovely souls.” Lisa Buldene held the sausage up to her nose to breathe in its steam. She exclaimed, “What do you think this sauce is?I’ve had so many exotic things to eat here in the last few days, I’m kind of in this great foodie haze. Everything I’ve been served is just fab. I cannot even tell you. Yesterday I had these disks of meat that had been frozen, you know, to lock in all their ancient goodness, and then thrown on a grill and fried, and … Wow. Wow, this sauce smells heavenly. I wonder what it is! Just imagine the little girls in their hats and bells mashing it up in some village courtyard and singing to their donkey!”
    â€œUm,” said Lily, “I think it might be regular ketch—”
    â€œI am completely filled up to here with glory,” sighed Lisa Buldene. “The people here are just so
authentic
, so
spiritual
. I’ve gotten to know so many new people…. Like you, for example. At home, in New York, I wouldn’t have even talked to you, but here we are, exchanging opinions and—”
    â€œSaturn’s moons!” cried Jasper. “There’s the van!”
    â€œThat’s not really an opinion,” said Lisa. “It’s more like an exclamation, but I feel that way thewhole time here, too, like exclaiming, like crying out to the world that—”
    Jasper had stood, dropped his margarine bowl and tongs, and set off running.
    Because he had just seen a white van drive past—filled with the fake Delaware Stare-Eyes champions!

21
    â€œWhat van?” asked Lisa Buldene. She saw the three kids had scampered away: Jasper first, Katie close behind, and then Lily running as fast as she could.
“What van?”
the New Yorker called after them.
“Is