“Stick." I said in Russian. I had no clue what the word for stake was. I pointed at the silver ring I wore and made a slashing motion. "Stick. where?" He stared at me in utter confusion and then asked in perfect English, "why are you talking like that?”

“Of course, now I had the problem of communicating what I needed. Marlen was still beating on the door, and Dimitri would be up in a couple of minutes. I glared at the human, hoping I looked terrifying. From his expression, I did. I attempted the caveman talk I had with Inna...only this time the message was a little harder. "Stick," I said in Russian. I had no clue what the word for stake was. I pointed at the silver ring I wore and made a slashing motion. "Stick. Where?" He stared at me in utter confusion and then asked, in perfect English, "Why are you talking like that?" "Oh for God's sake," I exclaimed. "Where is the vault?" "Vault?" "A place they keep weapons?" He continued staring. "Oh," he said. "That." Uneasily, he cast his eyes in the direction of the pounding.”

“You have no idea about presents or what they mean. The lastpresent you gave me was a stick.”“You wanted a weapon.”“It was a stick.”“It had a bow on it.”“It was a stick.”“I thought you liked the stick. You laughed.”

“Come work for me, and I’ll tell you.”My eyes went to his. “You are a thief, a cheat, a murderer, and a not-nice man,” I said calmly. “I don’t like you.”He shrugged, the motion making him look utterly harmless. “I’m not a thief,” he said. “And I don’t mind manipulating you into working for me when I need it.” He smiled, showing me perfect teeth. “I enjoy it, actually.”

“Fo Black lives on Canal Street, which used to be a real canal. He didn't speak very good English, because he hadn't left Chinatown since he came from Taiwan, because there was no reason for him to. The whole time I talked to him I imagined water on the other side of the window, like we were in an aquarium. He offered me a cup of tea, but I didn't feel like it, but I drank it anyway, to be polite. I asked him did he really love New York or was he just wearing the shirt. He smiles, like he was nervous. I could tell he didn't understand, which made me feel guilty for speaking English, for some reason. I pointed at his shirt. "Do? You? Really? Love? New? York?" He said, "New York?" I said, "Your. Shirt." He looked at his shirt. I pointed at the N and said "New," and the Y and said "York." He looked confused, or embarrassed, or surprised, or maybe even made. I couldn't tell what he was feeling, because I couldn't speak the language of his feelings. "I not know was New York. In Chinese, ny mean 'you.' Thought was 'I love you.'" It was then that I noticed the "I♥NY" poster on the wall, and the "I♥NY" flag over the door, and the "I♥NY" dishtowels, and the "I♥NY" lunchbox on the kitchen table. I asked him, "Well, then why do you love everybody so much?”

“David's brow unfurled and he crouched down on the floor with his daughter. 'Did you have a fun time with your aunt Izzy?' he asked in a high squeaky voice.Sydney stared at him blankly.'Say good morning to Aunt Izzy.'Sydney stared at me blankly.'Remember me from last night?' I asked.'Did you have fun?' Maggie asked.'I wouldn't go that far,' I replied.'I was actually talking to Sydney, Maggie said.'Oh well, she'd probably agree. We had an okay time, didn't we, Sydney?''Why can't you talk to her like a normal person?' asked David. 'I'm the only one talking to her like a normal person. You sound like a eunuch.”