ACT 3
Six months went by after the live demonstration blunder. I barely got out of bed since then. To be blunt, I didn’t see a single reason to do so. Days were all the same. All equally dull. Working at the shop became more and more tedious, but there wasn’t much to do outside of it, except gazing at the stars and reflecting upon my many regrets. I was bored out of my mind, but lacked the motivation to do anything about it. It was exhausting.
At least I was happy to see that, apparently, Dree’s electric coil was all the rage around town. In fact, it was the only thing people seemed to discuss lately. Her invention was slowly spreading all over the city. There were even talks of Sköllhyala becoming a spearhead of technological prowess. For instance, they made a tiny crystal bulb that, when hooked via a series of strings to a thing they called a ‘generator set’, creates a source of light without the need for fire. And a really cheap one at that. Some were deathly scared by these advancements, but the vast majority had shown to be very receptive toward them. Even Mr. Banks, who used to believe that a sink with running water was proof of the existence of black magic, placed several of these bulbs on his house, so that everyone could see more clearly his recently acquired rusty horse shoe collection.
As for me… look, I tried to keep a positive attitude. I really did. I even searched for hobbies and whatnot. Anything to keep me busy, or at least distract me from the very real possibility that I had lost any semblance of passion I had left. For example, I met this nice street vendor who sold bubble blowers. Said he invented his own soap and water formula, which allowed him to blow the largest and prettiest bubbles in the whole kingdom. I was enthralled at first, so I tried learning his ways. Alas, it didn’t fulfill me. I came to find that bubbles are surprisingly ephemeral.
Then, I tried sports. I signed up for the local Scorchball team. What’s Scorchball, you ask? Why, it’s only the most extreme sport in the whole world! The rules are simple: two adversaries stand facing each other on opposite sides of a steel foundry furnace containing either molten lava, sulfuric acid, poisonous slime, or, for the kiddies, boiling water. There’s a big spiked ball in the middle, hanging from the ceiling through a chain. Each player is given a sledgehammer. The goal is to hit the spiked ball with the sledgehammer to swing it toward your opponent’s side; catch is, the ball is lowered more and more as time passes, meaning that, after a certain point, it will start to touch the surface of the deadly liquid. So, as it gets bounced around, it’ll splash the stuff everywhere, including the players themselves. Whoever manages to resist the longer without screaming in pain as the molten lava peels off their skin is declared the winner! I wasn’t allowed to play, unfortunately. They said that a wimp like me would die in five seconds. Gatekeepers.
Bastian was starting to get worried sick about me, which made me feel like even more of a heavy load. He came by the shed one day and sat next to my bed, where, unsurprisingly, I had been laying for hours. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave me instead this compassionate, reassuring look, letting me know I could open up to him.
“You’re the smartest person I know, B,” I told him. “Well, aside from Andrea. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s just… Everything’s changing so fast around here. Everything’s evolving… Except me. I’m stuck in the past. I should be making plans for when I’m an adult, but all I want to do is stay in bed all day and think about how bad I want to go back to the way things were before. I’ve never felt so empty in my life. Please, tell me the exact words I need to hear so I can move on. I can’t stand being like this anymore.”
“I wish I could, Rags. I really do. I wish I could come up with some amazing solution to all your problems, just like Andrea’s done for the city. But I can’t. Not me, not anybody. You’ll have to figure that out on your own.”
Again with the unreasonable expectations.
* * *
One day, I headed out to go grocery-shopping, if only to touch some grass and pretend I was being useful for a moment. When I came back, I saw a flashing light coming from inside the house. I came rushing inside, thinking a fire had broken out, only to find myself at the sight of Bastian standing next to a hole on the wall where the piping is and wearing a knight’s helmet on his head while wielding some strange artifact. It looked like a long, thin pewter stick, about the size of a pencil. Needless to say, I was more than a little perplexed. The device was attached by a cable to a box-shaped thing that contained a replica of Andrea’s electric coil, albeit a little less rudimentary. He had some bits and chunks of scrap iron around him as well.
“Um, B?” I said. “What have you got there?”
“It’s a prototype for Dree’s latest invention,” he replied. “It’s called an ‘electric welder’.”
“What does it do?”
“Easy. You see this thing I’m holding? That’s an ‘electrode’. It applies heat via an electrical discharge, which is generated by this power supply here. Meaning that, thanks to Dree’s discoveries, all it takes is a little bit of voltage, and… et voilà!”
Suddenly, he placed the tip of the electrode on the surface of one of the scraps and, as if it was an act of witchcraft, the metal started to melt beneath it in a burst of sparks.
“Woah!” I said. “That’s impressive.”
“I know, right? According to Dree, it’s called ‘arc welding’. I’ve been trying to find a solution to the house’s leakage problem forever. If I wanted to fix this before, I’d have to change the whole pipe. Now, I can just patch up the holes using these metal scraps. You can shape metal into anything you want with this thing!”
Upon hearing those words, an idea came to mind. A wild, wild idea. I felt it. The adrenaline rush. The fire. The one I thought I’d lost forever.
“Hey, B,” I said. “Is it okay if I borrow this electric welder thingy for a while?”
“Sure, I’m almost done with it anyway. What do you want it for?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
All I needed now was metal. A whole bunch of it. And I knew just the person to get it from: my neighbor, Mr. Banks. He had a ton of metal lying around in his front yard, ranging from soldier’s shields to entire sets of armor, as well as a few plates. I tried to borrow it from him, but he was reluctant to part with his cherished junk. I ended up exchanging it for one of my earlier sculptures. I was heartbroken at first, but if this was the price I had to pay, so be it. Out with the old, in with the new. I got tin, bronze, aluminum… any alloy you could think of that isn’t worth much. But that was gonna change soon.
Once Bastian went to bed, I gathered all the metal and dropped it in the main hall. Then, I turned on the power supply. My hands were shaking from the excitement. It was time to do a little experiment. Since it was my first attempt, I thought something simple, like a self-portrait, was in order.
And so, I began doing what I do best. I began —… wait, wait, how do you…? Oh, you just have to flip the switch. There. Now, like I was saying, I began doing what I —… geez, this electrode thing makes sparks fly like crazy as soon as it touches the metal. Not gonna lie, it’s a little scary. I feel like I’m gonna blow up the house any minute now. Also, I can see why Bastian was using a helmet while operating this mechanism. This thing will obliterate your eyes if you’re not wearing proper protection. Lemme go grab the helmet. There. By the way, is this supposed to be so noisy? I probably just woke up every person in the whole block. Nevermind, let’s get back to it. It’s taking a while, but it appears the plate is finally starting to bend a little bit. I wonder what happens if I place one plate next to the other and… yup, just like I thought! It stays attached. Bastian was right, you can shape metal into pretty much anything you want with this technique. Not only that, but you can also weld several parts together with ease! Very fascinating stuff. Smells like something’s burning, though. It’s really pervasive. That’s gotta be a good sign. I think I might be getting the hang of… Ouch! Nevermind, that was the smell of my clothes catching fire. Nothing some sewing can’t fix, I hope. Man, who would have guessed metal becomes so malleable when you apply heat to it? You can even bend it by hitting it with a hammer to great effect, so, in a way, it’s not that different from stone carving. Speaking of heat, I’m not sure if it was the fire or the sheer thrill of the process, but it sure is getting warm here. Probably should’ve worn something a tad lighter than a yarn sweater for this. Anyway, no more interruptions. Let’s —… Ouch! Sorry, I dropped the darn electrode on my toes. Like I was saying, let’s see what this thing is really capable of.
Before I noticed, the sun was already out. I stood before what could possibly be the world’s very first metal sculpture in all of its glossy glory. Funny thing is, it wasn’t even remotely flawless. In fact, it was quite crude. My shoddiest work in years. Yet, there was something about it that was extremely captivating. A strange mystique, derived, perhaps, from the fact that this time around I wasn’t obsessed over it being perfect. It was almost a playful exercise. I haven’t enjoyed the process of sculpting this much in a while. I felt like a little kid again, but in a good, childhood-trauma-free kind of way.
Suddenly, Bastian came downstairs, still in his pajamas. “You’ve been here all night?” he asked.
“Yeah, I…” I said.
“Wow!” he shouted upon seeing my sculpture. “You did that with the electric welder? That looks stunning!”
“No. It’s trash”.
“C’mon, Rags, don’t be so hard on your—”
“I can do it better. Way, way better.”
I started a new piece immediately after. Sleep can wait.
In the next few days, I came up with a bunch of new sculptures. I couldn’t leave them scattered around the house and there’s no way I could fit them inside the shed, so I just took ‘em all outside while I worked on pumping out even more sculptures. Much to my surprise, they seemed to attract the curiosity of some bystanders. At first, it was only neighbors and people from the block, but then a few strangers started to show up too. They’d gather around them and share their remarks with each other, or just gaze at them in silence. Some came near me and asked me tons of questions, which I was happy to answer. I’d tell them about my characters and their backstories. For instance, there was ‘Zola’, a Gorgon girl who hadn’t yet fully developed the power to turn people into stone due to her young age, so instead she’d buy sculptures from Mr. Otis and I to pass them off as her own doing and therefore impress her fellow Gorgon friends with her insane skills.
One of the other sculptures was a depiction of a naiad. Naiads are water creatures that resemble women with scales on their skin, not unlike mermaids, except they have proper legs and feet. They live in ponds and lakes, but you’d be hard-pressed to find one unless you take a deep dive. So, naturally, she was wearing nothing but a smile on her face. Mrs. Haslam, my neighbor, seemed to take issue with that.
“Oh, my,” she said. “Why is that one naked?”
“Uh, I dunno,” I replied. “It just came out that way, I suppose.”
“Well, someone should tell the lady to cover up a little bit,” she said after letting out a snooty laugh.
“It’s just a statue, miss. No need to be a prude.”
Upon hearing that, she let out a gasp and left. My first outraged detractor. I’ll cherish this moment forever. Seriously, though, I hope she wasn’t too offended.
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