Keenin woke up, thinking he heard something. He turned his face away from the ceiling and lifted himself away from the hard wooden floor. His skin was uncomfortably chilled, and he quickly noticed why. The fireplace beside him was full of cold ashes. 

It had been eight days already and all the while he had been hiding in the house learning about herbs and their properties. Keenin had thought that he could stay until he could replace the potion for Alaban, but the old guy was only making him memorize facts. 

Honestly, he was beginning to get confused. So many plants looked the same and despite Alaban’s efforts to label the containers, Keenin’s inability to read had left him relying more on smell and touch. He wasn’t used to committing so many details to memory. Today he would have to confront Alaban about what he wanted. 

The faint noise came again. It was like a rapping. Upstairs, the floorboards creaked as Alaban started to move. Keenin finally realized that the rapping was at the door. He slowly got to his feet, but he need not have worried. Alaban had come down the stairs and opened the door. Although Keenin could not see the visitor through Alaban’s massive frame he could hear a female voice.

“I only found a few wild Spindleum. I can’t promise any more Celiac, either. All of the wild types are doing poorly this year.”

Keenin stood listening and tried to rub the cold out of his arms.

“All right. I’ll pay for what you’ve got. Maybe you should start a forest plot,” Alaban said, digging some gold coins out of his pocket to pay her.

“You know I’ve tried that already. I can’t force the plants to grow even if it is for you, so stop asking.”

“Emily, you know not to take me seriously. I just can’t stand to worry about my work,” he said.

There was the clink of coins as money changed hands.

“Heh,” Emily snickered. “It isn’t as though you're going to live much longer. Go take a vacation while you can old man.”

Alaban ignored the comment and turned to tie the bundles of plants to the nearest beam. Keenin finally got a look at Emily. She was a young woman in a mustard colored dress. Her hair was messy and blond, and freckles clustered around her nose.

“Who is that?” Emily asked peering into the house at him.

“A part-time worker,” Alaban replied.

Emily laughed in surprise.

“So this is your new worry. I can’t say I disapprove, but that one looks a little starved. Are you sure you’re feeding him?”

“Why do you think I took him in? Gods, girl. Stop prying into my house and go get yourself some herbs before we both go out of business.”

She laughed again.

“If you don’t want me to pry, then close the door you old shut-in.”

That said, she reached for the door handle and pulled the door shut herself.

“Annoying woman,” Alaban said as he finished tying the plants to the beams.

“Should I get back to crushing plants?” Keenin asked so that the fire wouldn’t be noticed.

“No. I have a better job. Wait here,” Alaban told him.

Then he headed back upstairs. Keenin thought that he might get his chance to make potions. However, Alaban came down with what looked like a patched blanket. When he held it up Keenin saw that it was a coat, well, sort of a coat, more of a multicolored vest.

“I’m not that poor,” Keenin said.

“It’s not for good looks. It’s for attracting the customers,” Alaban said, “I had the old lady next door sew it just for you. You wouldn’t want her to know that you rejected her beautiful work, would you?”

“But...”

If he went out there the thieves would really think he was working for Alaban. 

“I haven’t decided to be an apprentice,” Keenin confessed.

“Then more reason to see what it’s like,” Alaban said.  

                                                              *

Keenin liked sitting at the stall. Of course, he had to sit beside it because there was only one chair and Alaban had brought along more plants to crush, so Keenin was really doing the same thing, but he liked being out in the open. In his colorful vest, people were giving him favorable looks. 

He heard them talk of the state of crops, of the new folk around town, and of an unholy war that seemed to be raging in the capital city Meladona. Some went so far as to say the enemy forces were comprised of demons and the undead, but Keenin supposed that all enemies would feel monstrous. His attention became absorbed in his work and forgot all about the people. If customers came, Alaban would tend to them, so he could think about what he wished.

He didn’t bother looking up from his work until he heard a group of particularly loud voices. He saw that the speakers were some of his thieving friends. They were loitering across the street and speaking loudly, so he would hear their insults.

“The weirdo finally got caught.”

“Did you see that stupid jacket?”

“No sane person would have tried their hand against Alaban.”

Even after his old acquaintances were gone, Keenin sat looking after them, his work forgotten. He knew that none of them went a day without stealing, and probably never would. He too would have been over there. Was this really the only thing that he could do?

He noticed Alaban looking down at him.

“Don’t let anyone steal the merchandise. It’s your meals that will suffer,” he said.

As the day came to a close, Keenin packed the plants and bottled powder into a small sack as Alaban stood waiting with his box of potions. Keenin had just straightened up to leave when a girl came running down the street towards them. Keenin was still thinking about thieves, and dropped his bag to go block her path, but then noticed that she was slowing down. She went up to Alaban.

“I need medicine for my mother. She’s having trouble breathing,” the girl huffed out herself, “I have…I have this much.” She held up a money purse.

“I suspect that money is your mother’s young lady. You shouldn’t take things,” Alaban told her.

“But it’s for my mother and you know me.”

“I just want you to be careful. Now you’re lucky, we have some cracked bottles that would be thrown out soon,” he said lowering his box onto the ground, “Right boy. You have small hands. Pull them out, but don’t cut your hands or the stuff will be ruined.”

Keenin undid the latch and found the broken bottles filled with healing water that were still holding together. They had cracked on the first day of Keenin’s employment when Alaban had stepped on his case in the dark and they had remained cracked sine Alaban couldn’t afford to replace the bottles.

Now Keenin carefully pulled them out and handed them up to Alaban who put them in a paper bag.

“Now don’t run with these,” Alaban said handing them to the girl. “When you get home pour all this into a good jar or bowl over clear cloth so the glass doesn’t get mixed in. Give her a spoonful a day. You got all that?”

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

She turned and quickly stepped away.

“Don’t run,” Alaban called after her.

He turned to Keenin. “You did a good job, but I don’t care what’s going on. I don’t ever want to see you drop my merchandise again. It will be plants today and the potions tomorrow. Pack it up and let’s go.”

Keenin was hardly listening. He had something else to think about now. And perhaps he could start potion making by himself once he learned from Alaban. Then there would be no more rules about which friends he could have.