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“Do you remember everything?” Álvaro asks, poking Isco who is most likely watching some birds, because he’s looking anywhere but at Álvaro.
“Yes,” Isco whines. “Can I go now?”
“Last time I sent you for eggs and you brought me fish,” Álvaro says.
“They didn’t have eggs!”
“And how was I supposed to turn the fish into an omelette?”
Isco rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine, it won’t happen again.”
“I want to cook chicken tonight, for your information,” Álvaro says. “So fish won’t do.”
Isco sighs and walks out. Álvaro sometimes acts like he’s a little child that can’t be left out of sight. Truth is he can be easily distracted, especially because there are quite a few inns and taverns around the market place, and he likes to stop for a glass and… things just happen when you enter such a place, but…
He’s determined to prove Álvaro wrong this time.
He diligently goes from stand to stand and buys all the things Álvaro told him to buy, and puts them in his basket and keeps an eye on it so that nothing breaks. He earns some approving glances from elderly women who must think he’s doing the shopping for his mother or wife, and… well, Álvaro is kind of like a mother and wife in one person, so they are not far from truth anyway.
When he arrives home, he puts all the things on the table and folds his arms.
“Well, now you can make your chicken!” he says. “I’m not a little kid, I can buy vegetables and wine, also without drinking the wine.”
“I see,” Álvaro says, but he doesn’t look like he wants to apologize, and Isco starts to get the strange, queasy feeling of forgetting something. “But where’s the chicken?”
Isco wants to cry.