The good intentions were there, I assure you. I had set my mind to constructing a brand new door for Tam, Soryya, and their daughter and truly had every intention of fulfilling that. But, I must have retained some hint of a fever at the time, as I had quite neglected the fact that I hadn’t the faintest idea how to construct one. It had seemed simple enough in theory: wood planks, nails, hammer, taddah. But as we strode into the workhouse and surveyed all the wood and tools at our disposal, I suddenly had second thoughts.
It was fortunate for me that Tam took the helm quite readily. He sifted through the available planks until he found a set that satisfied him. “These will do. Grab us a couple saws and--” He paused abruptly to look up from the wood and look me over, sizing me up. “Yeah,” he decided, “saws for both of us. We’ll go faster that way.”
I had seen that look plenty of times before. It was bountiful back in the mountain village when the townsfolk first started trusting me into their homes and requesting my aid with assorted chores. After all, who would trust a dog with a saw? Especially a dog who had, just half an hour ago, frolicked through the village market finding utmost delight in everything in sight. In truth, their market was set up in a completely different fashion from those of the mountain village or Mitissilva. Not only that, but they had items that I had never seen before, and items that I had never seen before in such quantity. This village was like a whole other culture, and I wanted to drink it in like a parched man given crisp water.
Anyway. I got the saws and brought them over only for him to look up, see them, and flicker a guilty laugh. “Oh, no. Not those saws. Have you… worked with wood before?”
Rather than answer and condemn myself, I just spun around and hastened back over to the tool rack. I gathered every saw. Every single one. After all, I can’t be wrong if one of them is the right answer, right? So I loaded up my arms and hauled them over and crouched down to deposit them on the ground. For posterity’s sake, I proceeded to lay them out one by one into a nice, tidy line from biggest to smallest.
Tam looked up from sorting planks of wood and just stared. “That…” He makes a tsking sound and rubs at his mouth as if trying to wipe away the smile. “...yeah, that works. We’ll need the medium-sized ones --about as long as my forearm.”
He held up his forearm, so I leaned forward and stared at it intently before dropping my attention to the saws. There was an absurd number of saws. Some were very clearly meant to be applied to the task of cutting down trees. Others were very cleary meant for applying finer details to a piece. I grabbed up a few that were pretty well between and brought them over to compare against the length of his arm.
The man was biting back a smirk the whole time as he watched me do this. I wondered what was going through his head. He likely thought I had some sort of mental handicap at this point, or that I was some sort of delinquent. It was clear enough in his eyes that he was trying to puzzle me out.
When I finally held up the two saws that were closest to his arm-length, he grinned and nodded. “Those’ll be perfect. Now, we’ll want to cut these planks down to a more manageable size. When they’re smaller like that, we can layer them to make the door--” He coughed something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and wiped at his face again. “--to make the door sturdier.”
Ah, yes. In case one such as myself saw fit to put their face through the door again. I nodded agreement with this very sage piece of wisdom and held up my elbow to pretend to run it through something.
That got another laugh out of him. “Exactly. How about you watch me do this first plank, then we can tackle the pile together.”
So he did trust me, at least to some extent. In spite of my norm-defying antics, he still acknowledged me as a being intelligent enough to follow instructions, to observe, and to wield a saw independent of direct aid. It was refreshing to no small extent. I did observe him --it is my specialty, after all-- and after I had committed every measurement, every saw angle, every application of pressure to memory, I set to work in turn.
We worked away in silence for some time. Sawing is tedious work and doesn’t allow for much conversation in any shape or form. Tam propped open the front and back doors so that a cool breeze could blow through. It was still dim and grey out there. The orange of the lanterns inside the workhouse was warm and inviting by comparison. It was an altogether pleasant place to be working.
The lumberjack swung by when we were about halfway through our work. He was a big burly fellow with eyes that looked almost red in the flickering light of the lanterns. He filled up the doorframe when he stepped through it, and propped one massive arm on one of the building’s interior columns to watch us --to watch me. I wasn’t sure I liked the look in his eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was because his build reminded me of how Leaf-Eyes had almost crushed my bones on several occasions, or if it was because something about his posture reminded me of those Mitissilvans who had kicked me out of their town in the dark of night. Perhaps both.
“So what’s with the costume?” he asked in a voice not unlike the pocked surface of coal.
I stopped working to look up at him. Funny he should ask. They always assumed I was the one in costume, but for me, most of the time they were the ones in costume with masks thick and heavy like iron. So I opened a hand toward him --What about you?-- and propped my chin on my knuckles to await answer.
“Me? I’m not th’one wearing a devil’s mask.”
“I think it’s more of a harlequin’s mask,” Tam noted. He sat up from stacking planks to wipe sweat from his brow. “And, I don’t think he likes talking about it.”
“Don’t seem like he’s inclined to talk about anything,” the lumberjack countered with a gruff smirk.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Tam was cool as can be, even giving me a friendly smile as he said it as if to make sure I knew I was still a part of this conversation in which they talked about me in front of my face. “Mute doesn’t mean bad. It means thoughtful.”
“Mute means he’s too afraid t’talk for himself!”
“Nah. It means he doesn’t feel the need to. You should’ve seen him at the market earlier. He was the boldest, most unapologetically curious person there. I dunno about you, but I couldn’t even pretend at that.”
“Pffuh.” It was a sharp exhalation of air that communicated volumes about how much Lumberjack cared about being unapologetically curious. In truth, I could see Tam approaching that level of curiosity if he applied himself to it. I couldn’t see Lumberjack doing so.
The woodsman shrugged and straightened up. “Just make sure he doesn’t break anything. I’ll be at the house if you want any help.” He eyed me over with the clear implication that he didn’t expect me to be any sort of help before turning to take his leave.
Tam waited for him to be gone before heaving a sigh and picking up his saw again. “I bet that’s not the first time you’ve run into someone the likes of him. I think what you do is admirable. Really.” He didn’t even look to me for a reply, so I didn’t bother giving one. He was content to fill the silence on his own. “When Rodel was younger, she used to be just like that. She’d run around sticking her hands in everything, asking questions as blunt as can be… Heck, I remember when I used to do that. I feel self-conscious just thinkin’ about it. I don’t mean to call you childish. More… child-like.”
Having finished his last plank, he sat up to appraise me while I worked on my last plank. His eyes, a misty blue, were thoughtful. “We lose that when we grow up, don’t we.”
I looked up at him, then set the last shortened plank on the pile. He certainly did understand better than most. He didn’t need a reply. After all, it wasn’t a question, and any input from me would only color his thoughts one way or another when he was already thinking well enough for himself.
We spent the rest of the afternoon piecing together that door, trading off between holding the planks in place and being the one at the hammer. It was seamless teamwork. When all was said and done, I was quite proud of the door we had crafted. Tam propped it up, and I gently tested my weight against it just for fun before nodding satisfaction. A day’s work well done. I waited with the door while he went off to pay the lumberjack; then we each took an end and carried it home.
While Soryya cooked a meal of creamy chicken-and-bean soup with Rodel’s help, Tam and I spent a good long while figuring out how to take down the old front door and install the new one. Once it was in place, we took turns going in and out, in and out, to celebrate our accomplishment as much as to make sure that it swung properly and reliably. We dragged the corpse of the old door out into the yard and hacked it apart into fire wood.
By that point, I was exhausted again. I wasn’t built for manual labor at such a scale even on a good day, but I had done my very best to ignore the fact that just the day before I had been a useless lump of fabric on the floor. I didn’t even think to question staying for dinner, accepting a bowl of soup with sore hands and disappearing into the bathroom with it. By the same token, I could hear them talking in hushed voices through the door --not indoor voices, not distant voices, but voices that didn’t want the stranger in the bathroom to hear-- and didn’t particularly mind that either. It was good to have a good day.
I carried out my bowl and took all of theirs to clean in the kitchen. I was at the sink up to my elbows with bubbles, with Soryya at my side putting away the leftover soup, when Tam strolled in to lean against the counter.
“I know you’re feeling better,” he said, “but I just wanted to make sure you know. Soryya and I talked, and you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. We can even get you a more proper mattress, if you think you’ll stick around that long. So take as long as you need.”
I lowered a dish into the sink and turned to look at him, back at Soryya, and to him again. Against my better instincts, I had come to like it here. Tam was a good man who didn’t pry and yet, for whatever reason, treated the masked stranger as an equal. If anywhere was a safe place to allow myself to fully recover, this would be it.
Just for a couple days. The woodworking had worn me down to the core again, and even washing the dishes felt tedious. If I allowed myself just a couple days here to recuperate, and to listen and learn this village’s culture, I would be in a much better position to finally set out.
To answer him, I scooped up a handful of bubbles and stuck them to his chin. He froze with a blink --then snorted a laugh and scooped up a handful of bubbles to smear across my forehead in turn. “Well alright then. That’s that.”
That was that.
That was that.
Comments (1)
See all