“Oh?” I became interested. “Is that so? How many pounds of oranges did your family grow this year?”
The elderly man’s face turned slightly troubled as he took a puff of his cigarette. “I have almost 10,000 pounds of oranges, but this year’s market is not good, and I can’t sell them.”
Steve and I exchanged a glance, both furrowing our brows.
“Why can’t you sell them?”
“In previous years, many merchants would pre–order, and when the fruit was ready for harvest, they would come to collect it and then transport it to sell. But this year, very few merchants came, and those who did offered very low prices.
I remembered not too long ago when I was grocery shopping with my mom, the price of oranges was outrageously high, with the cheapest ones costing eight dollars per pound.
“How much do the merchants offer per pound?”
The elderly man shook his head. “At most, they offer one dollar and fifty won’t take more than that.”
How could this be?
A thought crossed my mind, and I instinctively grabbed Steve’s hand.
ts per pound, and they
