An old man arranged his stock neatly on the red and gold embroidered cloth he’d laid over the table of the market stall. The summer sun hadn’t risen fully yet, shining a grey light through the clouds. It had rained the previous night and that morning it was quite cool, the remaining puddles dotting the cobblestone street. Today was the Festival of the Jester and this time of year people from all over the region would come to buy and sell trinkets, clothes, bread, cheese, summer fruit and other goods hidden in the caravan of color. The old man carefully placed down a large wooden chest, with old iron hinges and locks reminiscent of an age of knights and dragons. His chest made a faint clinking sound as it was placed down, the many glass bottles shifting against each other, waking up for the day. The stall he was in was placed at the far end of the street were only the truly curious (or truly bored) came to see the odds and ends each elder man or women had to sell.
By the time the sun had passed the noonday peak five people had come down the ‘end-of-the-road’ and only one had glanced at his stock, but he wasn’t worried. His remedies only attracted those who truly needed them.
Charlotte, though most commonly called Charlie, was deeply enjoying the festival and market. The air itself echoed her joy as it seemed to hum with elation and delight. The colorful banners swooped and fluttered with the wind, dancing an intricate dance, secret to all. Wonderful smells of spicy meat, ripe fruit, cakes and pastries, wafted around her, and the chorus of noise gave the wonderful feeling of not being able to think, yet taking everything in all the same. Charlie let a small giggle escape as an enthusiastic merchant practically skipped around a very stiff couple as he showed them his wares: a collection of different types of sausages. A single glance sideways and her smile dropped along with her elation. She’d brought her friend, Lin, in hopes that the fun and laughter of the market would pierce the grey cloud that surrounded her. No such luck. With a little frustrated huff Charlie grabbed her friends arm and dragged her through the masses. She was disappointed when she didn’t hear a protest. They made their way past the main crowd onto the famous ‘end-of-the-street’.
“You could at least have the courtesy to look interested,” Charlie snapped at her friend. “Look at the wood carvings or the sketchy – er – thing - or laugh at the cuckoo clock! A decent laugh would do you some good. Or - there! Let’s go see the old man over there.”
“Good day, Mademoiselles. I am your service,” the seller said when they approached.
“Hello sir. What’s the case for? It looks old.”
“It is old, an heirloom from my family. Though the merchandise inside is much more valuable.”
Charlie raised an amused eyebrow. “Okay you got me interested. What’s in it?”
The old man smiled. “Tell you what, you’re my first actual customer, so let me give you a riddle. If you guess I’ll open the chest.”
The girl grimaced. Riddles weren’t her thing and she almost said so, but she noticed something that made her reconsider. Lin had become interested. “Alright. Give it to me old man.”
The man whispered the riddle to her and waited patiently.
Biting her lip, she thought and pondered. Blank. She hazarded a guess “Er - chicken?”
He laughed a deep, mellow laugh that only came from fairytale grandfathers. “Not quite my dear.”
Charlie sighed, disappointed.
“But I did say you only had to guess. For your courage and - creative mind,” he said, handing her an old key. Eagerly she opened the chest to reveal a range small glass bottles filled with colored liquids of all kinds.
“This is -?”
“They are handmade remedies made from rare ingredients that grow only in certain, remote parts. They are all perfectly safe I can assure you and Officer Bettel can vouch for me.”
“My Uncle!” Charlie exclaimed. “Wait, wait, wait, you’re the guy that gave him that remedy that cured his depression! You sure these aren’t drugs?”
The seller regarded her with a careful blank face, though there was slight annoyance in his words.”If I had a dime for every time I was asked that I’d be a very rich man. Would you care to read the medical certificate?” He slapped a heavy folder on the table, medical papers peeking out.
“I – er - sorry.”
“Well,” the old man continued, cheery demeanor returning, “I wasn’t aware Officer Bettel had a niece, but yes I did help him.”
“So what do you recommend?”
The old man watched them both carefully then raked his fingers across the vials. He plucked a tiny vial with pale, wispy liquid “This one should do. Though not for you” he said as Charlie reached for it “For your friend here, this one is for you.” he gave Lin the pale vial and Charlie a larger bottle with purple liquid.
Charlie downed the liquid and was pleasantly surprised by the explosion of taste across her palette. “Woah that was something. What about you Lin, what’s yours like? Lin?”
Her friend was staring at her oddly. “Lin?”
Out of the blue Lin burst into hysterical laughter.
“Wha-? Lin, what is it?”
“You-Your,” she gasped between laughs “Your tongue!”
Charlie gave a start and stuck her tongue for inspection. It had tuned a deep, rich purple, making her look quiet ridiculous; but she didn’t mind and joined her friend’s hysterics.
The old man chuckled. “Ah, yes. I should have mentioned that little side effect; it wears off don’t worry.”
But the two friends were both already walking away hiccupping between bouts of laughter, the gloom gone from their hearts.
The old merchant chuckled. To the officers niece he’d given nothing but juice with some food coloring. To her friend, whose eyes had been dim he’d given her his best and most powerful remedy.
“The answer to the riddle is laughter, my dear. Laughter.”