Lafayette is a megacity of thirteen arrondissements, and the town of Grande is just a four-hour drive away. ^_^ See, book, first, send, invite, to, enlighten, monger, book, net ^_^

The local church set up nearly 100 tables on the streets of the Ninth Street Church, and more than 200 volunteers of all ages stood behind the narrow feeding table and took turns serving the waiters, who had already prepared fresh cold turkey, beef patties, peas, salads, cheese and mashed potatoes with chicken gravy, fluffy pumpkin pies, creamy, bite-sized cakes that crowded the countertops covered with white tablecloths, and the owner of a traditional Pitts restaurant donated beer kegs from his store. The huge, friendless wooden barrel was said to be his heirloom, and seven people couldn't hold hands, but today it could only contain soda, as charity dinners don't serve drunken drinks.

White, coffee, red, black, and a little yellow-skinned people gather here in the morning, many of them dragging their children and daughters, but they are quiet, orderly, and polite, and those who want to eat at the tables provided by the volunteers after picking up their meals will eat their share as soon as possible, so that the people behind them don't have to wait too long.

A woman stood in front of Sasha with an empty plate, her body exuding a strange smell that was often only smelled in the dirt deep in the streets, she was neatly dressed, very thin, the skin on her outstretched hands and arms hung loosely from the bones like faded and wrinkled silk, but there were no pinholes or bruises on the skin, and her black eyes were bright and clean, not like a drug addict.

Sachatedo gave her a piece of bread and cheese.

"Thank you," she said, "you are such a beautiful boy, may God bless you."

Beelzebub stood beside Sasha, who was in charge of dividing the turkey, and when it was the woman's turn, he picked out a fat and rich breast.

"Thou art a good drunk," said the woman, "and sturdy and pretty, and pleasing to men."

With that, she gave up her spot to the next person.

"I always felt like she was familiar." Beelzebub thought. Then he continued to work on his spoon.

Later, the number of people exceeded earlier expectations, more food was delivered, and they received about 7,000 people in four hours, as energetic young men. Beelzebub and Sasha had to take on more work.

Suddenly the sky became overcast, the people receiving the food became scarce, and the wind lifted the tablecloth and made a strange whining sound through the building.

"It's going to rain." Standing on the other side of the sand, Bep, who was in charge of distributing the salad, said.

Beelzebub lightly touched the tip of Sasha's elbow, and Sasha looked obediently at the table of mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie and petit fours, and drinks, and he paused for less than a second to understand what Beelzebub had shown him.

A fat little squirrel.

Brown eyes. Fair-skinned, fluffy, light chestnut-colored curls with a creamy glass hairpin pinned to them, ears like fleshy little shells, sweet like a little cake she was feasting on.

Among the volunteers there was a group of the smallest. They're first-year students in Lafayette, and because of their age, they're basically only responsible for handing out the cakes, and each person only needs to cook for a few minutes, not so much to do things as to feel the atmosphere.

Beelzebub was not the only one who noticed her, but Mrs. Wilson, who was next door handing out mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, was caught before she could look away.

She licked her lips with an indifferent expression. The child's eyes are bright and clear. While looking at you, you can find the whole world of mini inside,

It wasn't until Mrs. Wilson picked up a piece of pumpkin pie and stuffed it into her mouth that she turned back and went about her business.

The expressions on everyone's faces, those who gave and those who were given, relaxed as if the sun was coming out from behind the clouds, and they winked and smiled at each other tacitly over drinks, cold chicken, pies, and mashed potatoes.

The rain became heavy and the sky was dark. The surrounding buildings were lit up, transparent rain shone in the lampposts, the red and gray tiles gradually darkened, and the last wanderer to receive the meal took two large boxes of food with him.

The little food left over became dinner for the volunteers.

The cold chicken is a little greasy and the pumpkin pie is a bit tough. The cheese was crumbled and the drink was free of bubbles, but Beelzebub and Sasha both thought it was a pretty good meal.

A turkey of about fifty pounds, with shiny skin and a belly facing to the sky, is stuffed with carrots, onions, celery, cinnamon leaves, thyme, chestnuts, chicken livers and gizzards, and bread crumbs.

deep-fried cod fillets, stewed eel, beef and chicken pies, suckling pig, shellfish and lobster; Pumpkin pie, boiled beans, olives, corn, bunches of grapes, apples, sweet potato, cranberry jam and raspberry jam, cream filled doughnuts, and even seal meat and venison that are rarely on the table in modern times – because the new immigrants had it on the table. A must-have on the table in Bisandi.

Respecting tradition, Bisandi said, in fact, Poseidon people have always had a lack of interest in Thanksgiving - Thanksgiving is a "new" holiday that has not existed for more than a century, and has nothing to do with denominations - and most Poseidon people only notice this holiday because many of their "goods" often fall into an inexplicable sales slump or ** during this time.

And Bisangdi just thinks it's better to eat more than less.

Now in front of him lay a plate of honey ham, thinly sliced, rolled into the shape of a rose, brushed with warm butter and thick honey, roasted, slightly caramelized and brightly browned, with a small cluster of scorn and celery beside it.

Chegalle sighed, "This wasn't done by old Andreana. ”

"I did it." Big Hopkins said on the right side of the table, "I hope you like it."

"A lot of people have raved about your craft." Chegalle said. Anthony. Hopkins was once a friend of many, well-informed, knowledgeable, eloquent, elegant, generous — perhaps worse than that, he had a soft spot for his favorite "unique" cuisine, but never minded sharing it with others.

"Don't worry about the ingredients," said the ghoul, behind the suckling pig, "I haven't been able to find the perfect ingredients for a while."

Chegalle is not worried about what the ingredients are. He was only worried about where the ingredients came from, and he didn't want to open the freezer door when he wanted to eat ice cream one day, only to see the head or liver that belonged to one of his subordinates.

He ate the plate of rose ham, the honey was sweet and crispy, and the ham was juicy and juicy. The combination of the two is truly delicious.

"I'll let the kids go out for a walk at Christmas." Bissan said.

Old Andreana stood up, cut open the suckling pig, cut off a loin and put it on Hopkins' plate, and placed the rest in front of Chegalle.

They are now face-to-face.

The dark olive eyes met the light gray-blue eyes for about five seconds.

"On behalf of the Bisandi family," he continued, "go meet some people, see some situations, confirm some things."

Chegalle intently tore off a pork leg and patiently rolled it around on a plate to make sure every inch of it was stained with raspberry jam, "and they won't say anything." Conclusions will not be drawn either, there will be no recordings, no videos, no signatures, they will not be present in warehouses, basements, docks and abandoned factories. There are no prostitutes, no drugs, every activity participated, every money spent guarantees legal innocence. He held up the leg, "My dear friend, you can rest assured." ”

"That is," said Big Hopkins, "only them."

"There will be others." "They will be protected, good boys," Chegalle said. They're all people who rely on orangutans," he said, putting the tender pork leg whole into his mouth, "I'm sorry, but, dear." That's a family affair, so, though you're a good friend of mine. Everybody knows it, but you can't get involved in family affairs, you can't. He said bluntly, "But Sasha is different, Hopkins." He was the brother of Beelzebub, the brother who grew up together. ”

"Besides, though I said that years ago, Hopkins, I have to say it now, you can't always look at him like a Jew looking at a money box, if he's a girl, forget it, but he's a boy, and he's a man for a short time, and you've got to let him walk around on his own, break in, get a little wounded, suffer a little bit, and see blood. He's a good boy, you can't raise him as a chick, it's bad, it's not good for him, it's not good for you, it's not good for anyone. ”

"No one can look at him all the time, no one, except God and death."

The department store's charity lingerie show ended a little later than the dinner, so the Grande's big kids ended up gathering here.

The mall was so crowded that the lingerie show in the empty atrium was so successful that both men and women couldn't help but be smitten – even if they didn't have the same goals. Men's eyes will only stay on the **, buttocks and thighs that can only be seen on TV and pictorials, while women only care about style, color and price, and fantasize that they can wear this underwear to be comparable to or even better than its shower.

Sasha and Beelzebub had a little free time from the teacher in charge of them, and to the relief of the two hearing adepts to finally be able to leave the noisy atrium, they couldn't leave the ground floor, so they sat side by side on the benches where the customers were resting, waiting for the lingerie show to end, and to pass the time, they went to buy two cups of hot chocolate and fried chicken nuggets with milk.

They unexpectedly meet an acquaintance.

The little girl, who looked very similar to a squirrel, was still wearing the same outfit she had worn in the afternoon, with only a coat on the outside, and her face and hair were soaked with rain. She walked around alone not far away, tugging at all the decorations on the wall that she could touch.

When she saw Sasha and Beelzebub, she walked straight towards them.

Two minutes later, she was given a cup of hot chocolate and a creamy doughnut.

Beelzebub walked away for a while, bringing back a warm and soft bath towel large enough to wrap the two little girls, and a black curly plush hooded coat, and when he saw his brother's thoughtful smile, the heir of Poseidon Island shrugged his shoulders a little uncomfortably: "It's a little unbearable, I mean, wet...... That's what. ”

"Oh, that's what I thought, too." Sasha winked mischievously, "She's too wet. ”

The two older boys wiped the girl's hair and face, took her equally half-wet coat, and changed into an overcoat, which they did do a bit clumsy, and in any case, neither the Great Hopkins nor Bisandy would have included such lessons in their tutorials; On Poseidon Island, almost all of the boys who can be with Beelzebub and Sasha are about the same age, and even if there are younger ones, they are not too young to take care of themselves.

The little girl is unusually docile - put down the cup, raise your head, lower your head, don't move, stretch your arms, raise your arms, lower your arms, lower your head, okay, sit down, you can continue to drink your chocolate.

Sasha crouched down, and he looked into her eyes, which were beautiful eyes, but if they had been observed long enough—bright and clear, but lifeless, they were not the eyes of a normal child.

"Warm." Beelzebub said that after drying her hair and face, changing her clothes, drinking hot chocolate, and eating doughnuts, the lost little squirrel fell asleep on Beelzebub's lap without notice, her feet resting on Sasha's knees.

"Do you understand what's going on?"

"Her mom told her to wait here because the babysitter was home for Thanksgiving, so she couldn't stay home alone."

"So you can leave her here alone?" Where there are tens of thousands of people per hour - the rich western continent is different from Poseidon Island, if a young child is abducted and robbed, more than 90% of the criminals will not come for money, and she may not live for the first three hours.

"Maybe she'll be back soon." Sasha said without the slightest hope.

Fifty minutes had passed by the time they waited for them, and it was a very beautiful woman, with light brown hair coiled in the shape of a helmet, a face full of impatience and exhaustion, and a hand full of things, and she did not react when she saw her daughter sleeping on two strange young men, but frowned her brows, and rudely woke the child, and ordered her to follow her.

"I must say I expected this," Beelzebub said, "but she should at least remember to take her child's clothes."

"Or maybe she didn't even notice that her child had changed his clothes." Sasha said.

Beelzebub looked at the little coat he was carrying, it was a sapphire blue, though it did get a little darker when it got wet.

((One second to remember)