Friday, June 27, 2008

A Minor Misunderstanding

Anna stood waiting at the Inn’s front gate. Her smiles were getting readable – young Thom could see she had something planned. And indeed she had. She had been talking to the blacksmith about restoring the old Inn and reopening it. The blacksmith was trilled with the idea and was convinced it would bring a new vitality to this seemingly cataleptic town. He was convinced the villagers would embrace the idea and offer their help to speed up the work. Once completed, some of the village boys could work in the place instead of having to find a job in the city.
While Anna was doing a little joy dance in front of young Thom he wondered if the future would indeed be so clear and simple. It occurred to him that the blacksmith was not a villager and that the villagers might react quite differently to the idea than expected.
Young Thom did not know what had brought this village to its cataleptic state - as the blacksmith had well put it - but he did know it could not have been a trivial matter. And very likely the Inn had something to do with it.
Young Thom was not given time to ponder on it any longer as Anna grabbed his hand and guided him to the kitchen. Young Thom willingly followed and observed the graciously moving slim figure in front of him. Anna took a knife and an aubergine and put them in young Thom’s hands. Then she stood behind him, grabbed his hands and showed him how to cut vegetables like a real French chef as she taught her children during cooking lesson. Young Thom being a little bigger than her average student meant that Anna had to push close to him and rather than look over his shoulder she had to bend sideways to see what was happening on the table. Young Thom did his best to concentrate on the vegetable in front of him.
More than an hour later, Anna raised her glass to toast on a new beginning.
Young Thom followed her example though not completely sure what his place would be in this new beginning and if indeed it was what he wanted. But he had no future plans of his own and what could he oppose to the vision presented? The life presented was not far beyond what he had ever dared to dream of. All he had ever thought about was a vague notion of a life that was in relation to a job in the factory or as a blacksmith. Young Thom stared at his glass of dark red wine in which the flame of the candle seemed to dance around like a genie. With each taste of the delicious meal, the though of a future in the Inn came to settle comfortably in young Thom’s mind.

It was a full moon as Anna and young Thom walked along the small stream towards the top of the hill that overlooked the village. It wasn’t mid summer yet, but the night refused to cool down. Anna’s scarf was hanging loosely over her shoulders, revealing a long white neck that looked almost blue under the moon’s light. While stepping over a fallen tree she had grabbed on to young Thom’s arm and had held on to it for the rest of the walk.
Young Thom strolled with his hand in his pockets and noticed he had a grin on his face he just didn’t seem to be able to get rid of. Due to the wine, so he thought and he laughed out loud. This made Anna curious and she did not accept young Thom had no reason for the laugh. Young Thom saw no other option than to escape by running up the last slope of the hill. But right before the top, the wine took the upper hand and young Thom fell flat into the high grass. Young Thom took one deep sigh as he stared straight up at the moon and felt Anna lying down next to him. After a while she leaned over him, punched him in the stomach and remarked he hadn’t said a word about restoring the Inn. Indeed he hadn’t, so young Thom thought and he raised his hands up to the moon and shouted as loud as he could that it was the greatest idea of all! The greatest idea of all! Anna couldn’t stop laughing as young Thom took her wrists and pointed her arms toward the moon and they both shouted over and over again it was the greatest idea of all!
As all went quiet again, young Thom – still holding on to Anna’s wrist – watched her breath deeply in and out. Slowly he lowered his hand along her arms.

Where the road split between the schoolhouse and the Inn they said goodnight and went of, each in their own direction. Young Thom strolled with his hands in his pockets again, looking down at the ground, kicking every little stone he could spot in the dim light.
That he should not worry about it anymore she had said – it was just a minor misunderstanding, nothing had happened. But it was not to happen again.

Next : No more Patience

Friday, June 20, 2008

Sausage

His little sister had been a cheerful but loud child - always managing to attract attention in the most ingenious ways. At a very young age, it was just smiling and pulling peoples clothes, but gradually this evolved into well orchestrated little performances - all to the enjoyment of the butcher’s customers. Although the girl always made sure to be the centre of attention, Martha had found a way to be relieved of her for at least some hours. If you brought out a living animal and some knives, the little brat was off into the fields or woods. Her attitude towards meat was ambiguous to say the least, as she adored sausages and stews but ears and feat where the most horrible things she had ever seen on a table. In her own words, meat was fine as long as it came in cubes or tubes.

Martha instructed young Thom to press more firmly. People did not like floppy sausages.

The two girls were quite different. While young Thom’s sister was more interested in the wide world and all its wonders, Martha liked nothing better than to help out her father and brother in the butchery. But both girls remained curious in each other’s preoccupations. Many evenings the little girl would tell Martha all the things she had learned and Martha would try to persuade young Thom’s sister to help out with some butcher’s work – most often with little result.
But Martha did listen with admiration and awe to the stories of the world.
But when years later Martha was met with laugher by the other children of the village as she tried to forward these stories to them, that most of them had been made up. Apparently young Thom’s sister had used her vivid imagination to enhance a bit, that what she had read in her schoolbooks. But when finally exposed, the little girl was fair enough to apologize and to promise she’d never tell a lie again. Nevertheless, for Martha it was clear that both of the girls were quite different and they would never fully understand each other’s worlds. Despite all this, the two girls remained good friends, most likely because they benefited from each other complementary qualities. Indeed, young Thom’s sister was somewhat fragile and could not keep up with the boys or even most of the other girls of her own age. But her friendship with Martha made up for that. No one dared to touch or tease the skinny girl and they all knew very well who’d be at their doorstep if they did. Likewise, if Martha was ever in doubt of something she had heard, she’d consult the little walking encyclopaedia.

Young Thom pushed the last meat into the hog casing. Both his hands were sticky and as he moved to wipe them on his clothes two hands quickly grabbed his wrists. People would smell him miles away if he did that, Martha ensured him. Martha brought out a bucket with soapy water and washed young Thom’s hands. It was time to leave as her father and brother would no doubt soon return. Young Thom wanted to thank her but got no chance. Martha grinned and with her finger she punched him in the belly and pointed to the road. While walking back towards the Inn, young Thom realized he’d hadn’t learned much about what had happened to his mother and sister, but nevertheless he was satisfied for now. Martha had portrayed his little sister very well, and he was sure he’d liked the little brat a lot. As young Thom approached the Inn, he felt his fingers that had been softened by the greasy work he’d done. Indeed, they smelled soap, meat and Martha.

Next : A Minor Misunderstanding

Friday, June 13, 2008

The Breakfast

The next morning noise from downstairs abruptly awakened young Thom. His first encounter with daylight was the sun straight in his eyes. And once again noise from downstairs. This time he was able to recognize the voice of Anna. Young Thom stumbled out of bed as he tried to evaluate the beginnings of the day. Firstly he had overslept and secondly he was not presentable wearing only a short shirt. He opened the door and began to negotiate some time. While he tripled to the bathroom, breakfast was proposed from downstairs. Five minus later young Thom follows the smell of his favourite breakfast coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs. This and the cheerful greeting of always smiling Anna improved the morning mood drastically. Two pigeons quickly flew away as Anna and young Thom entered the dining room. Anna rests her chin on her hand as she watched young Thom dipping a peace of bread in the pan. As she noticed that young Thom wasn’t very comfortable being observed while eating, she flees to the centre of room - the spot where the pigeons had left some feathers. Slowly she started twirling making the feathers flying further and further from the centre. As young Thom sips the egg yolk from a bread crust he follows the movements of her hips, her hands and her hair waving in front of her face. Though not a very gifted dancer she was gracious in every move. The way she curved her back, overstretched her arms and pulled her shoulders back as if she was flying – which wasn’t very hard to imagine: numerous feathers twirled around her.
Suddenly she stopped, spread her arms and legs to balance herself and gazed straight forward while searching with her hand for support. No, she was not a gifted dancer but something of a comedian, young Thom thought. That she shouldn’t drink so much, he remarked - much to the surprise of Anna who’d never heard him joke or tease before. Didn’t know he had it in him! Indeed, young Thom didn’t know he hadn’t in him himself.
Anna looked around the room again. It would be expensive to fix this place, but it would be worth it, she thought. As she slowly walked towards the panoramic window the sun peered through the coloured glass at the top. Young Thom watched the show and listened to the vision of a restored great place where visitors could stay and villagers could marry. Anna imagined welcoming new guests while asking her own children to get out of the way and be more polite. Suddenly she looked at her watch. Afternoon class!
Quickly she took her coat and hat, kissed young Thom on the cheek and ran off while thanking him for breakfast. That she was always welcome, young Thom shouted before realizing he had to thank her for breakfast. As he cleared the table he looked at the empty dining room. Her own children. Young Thom wondered who the father would be.

Next : Sausage

Friday, May 30, 2008

The Promise

Eventually Martha came to know young Thom’s mother as a kind and gentle - though fragile person. When they were alone with the baby she seemed open and quite happy, but strangely enough that changed completely when in presence of any other person of the village. In fact, young Thom’s mother avoided going outside as much as possible. She would always claim to have too much work to do in the house.

Slowly some sunlight from the window behind young Thom illuminated the hands of Martha. Young Thom observed how the strong light revealed scared and scratched fingers. Why did his mother behave so strangely? As a young boy he had known her as an open and cheerful person. Why then this withdrawal from public life?
Outside the butcher’s house some footsteps could be heard. Martha stood up to look through the window and then quickly grabbed young Thom by his wrist and rushed him to the back of the house. As the two men entered, young Thom sneaked away through a backdoor.
That night he thought of his father leaving the village for the very last time. Wearing a soldier’s uniform he had placed his giant hands on the boy’s shoulders and promised him he’d return within a year. It was all the young lad could think of, but alas, a year later it was his own turn to leave. And he too promised to be back while waving goodbye to his mother. Young Thom turned over in his bed. Outside the window the moon was getting covered by clouds. To his mother he had failed the promise; to his sister he was bound to keep it.

Next : The Breakfast

Friday, May 23, 2008

The Intruders

Martha remembered well the day a woman and a baby were introduced by her father with the brief statement that from now on they would live in the same house and had to be treated as family. Teenager Martha had never known her own mother of whom she only possessed a tiny painting in a little wooden box. However small the portrait, one could clearly recognize the noble features, the truthful eyes of a woman as perfect as could be.
Martha could well image how it would be if her mother would have been around and she frequently talked to her before sleep. But now the house had changed. How could her father not see that bringing this woman inside their home was a stab in the back of the mother of all his children?
Those first days young Martha made sure to make the guests feel not welcome at all, determined as she was to make the intruders leave - subtly but unavoidably expelled by Martha’s vicious looks. A women’s war was being fought.
But already during the first week Martha’s irritation with the baby’s cries slowly progressed to curiosity, especially at moments when the mother was cuddling and teasing the little girl. At times some little hands and feet raised in excitement above the cradle’s edge. When Martha finally decided to peek inside and was greeted with a broad smile and two large shining eyes, surrender was the only option. Indeed a women’s war had been fought and the very youngest participant had claimed victory.

Next : The Promise

Friday, May 16, 2008

A Firm Rubbing

That afternoon, on the school’s roof, young Thom hammered firmly at some last nails as he replaced a patch of broken tiles. Each nail seemed to resist more and more, but young Thom remained determined. With each hit he felt the roof trembling under his legs. When he swung his hammer right on his thumb, he cried out loud to the sky. In reply a loud roar announced an approaching thunderstorm. Young Thom looked up to the dark grey threat. With yet another patch to go, he hurried to seal the roof as the first raindrops hit his shoulders. The last tile was in place just before all hell broke loose. Young Thom carefully positioned himself so he could slowly lower himself down on the wet and slippery roof. Suddenly, he heard the galloping of a horse down below. A cart with two men on it hastily ran past the schoolhouse. Young Thom recognized the bloodstained aprons. As they moved past he could see in the back of the cart a rope, some big knives and an axe. Young Thom knew the men were off for a good hour’s work. This was his chance and so he perilously slid down the roof and further down the ladder. As he ran through the village, the streets had already turned into mud streams. The butcher’s house was located on the hillside of the village. Pink coloured water ran down from the sloping street. In front of the butcher’s house a table and some tools were getting washed by the rain. Young Thom knocked tree times hard on the door and waited. All houses in the village down below were blurred by gray curtains of heavy rain - not a single soul was to be seen.
The door was opened by a worried butcher’s daughter. She saw young Thom standing there with his white shirt soaking wet and his red curly hear dripping down his face and could not resist a little snigger. Without a word, she stepped aside to let him in. The place smelled of iron. Once inside, she handed him a towel that he used to quickly wipe of most of the rain. Not pleased with the result she took the towel in her own hands and gave young Thom an extra firm rubbing – so much that it put him slightly off balance. She carefully examined her work, pushed away the hair in front of young Thom’s eyes and then offered him to sit down at a working table: a solid wooden construction, partially covered with bones and a couple of pigs’ ears and feet. With a swift move of her arm she pushed it all away and rested her elbow on the table.
Her name was Martha.

Next : The Intruders

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Empty Handed

The next morning young Thom walked to the back of the schoolhouse. There was a small room attached to the main building – you could see it had been added more recently. There was a door and a window covered by a curtain. But the door itself had a small window that was uncovered and young Thom took a peek inside while calling out the teacher’s name. Anna. She had left early as young Thom very well knew. He carefully looked inside. There was a table, one chair and a small bed in the corner. The room looked generic - no personal belongings of Anna could be seen. Young Thom turned away and with his hands in his pockets he slowly strolled back to the Inn. At the front gate he took a pause and looked up at the stone building – most of it covered with leaches and ivy. Anna was right, it could be restored to its full glory again but it would be a lot of work, and young Thom had other things on his mind for now.
Young Thom hurried towards the bakery while making up a list of things to do that week. He looked up into sky and realized he hadn’t thought about his family the day before. Suddenly a voice spoke out from behind him. It was the butcher’s daughter, this time her dark-blond hair tightly pulled back and tied in a knot and wearing a still clean white apron.. If the lamb had been good she wanted to know. With a face bearing professional interest she awaited reply. Of course, yesterday’s lamb! Young Thom was surprised by the question until he realized the young woman facing him was indeed the butcher’s daughter. He quickly confirmed with enthusiasm. And if it had been well cooked, she also wanted to know. A polite smile appeared on her face while Young Thom wet his lips at the thought of that mint sauce. Indeed, the cooking had been divine. He looked the butcher’s daughter straight in the eyes and replied with a modest yes.
Pleased with the replies, the butcher’s daughter thanked young Thom and went of to the bakery. But young Thom had questions for her too and with a few fast steps he stood in front of her again. A wide smile appeared on her face. But as young Thom asked his question the smile quickly disappeared and with apparent resentment she bluntly replied she would talk to him later and quickly rushed into the bakery. Young Thom followed but the place was crowded. After she left with her bread, he impatiently awaited his loaf and then quickly ran outside to find the street empty.

Next : A Firm Rubbing

Friday, May 2, 2008

Dinner at the Inn

One hour later, the sun had set, and young Thom lit some candles on one of the Inn’s dining room tables. Having placed the best chair for the teacher to sit on he sat uneasily at the edge of a wobbly one while examining his washed hands that still revealed some scars, a blister and some persistent dirt under his fingernails. With his fork he tried to remedy most of it until suddenly the kitchen door opened. He quickly moved his hands under the table as the teacher - bearing a broad smile - brought forward a slightly tarnished silver plate. Young Thom remembered the food of the factory’s kitchen where everything was also presented on metal plates – tin or iron. But this silver one offered a feast to his eyes and soon to his stomach, he imagined. He shared his excitement with the cook who blushed while she instructed him to hurry before it got cold.
But young Thom did not hurry. He had heard of the peculiar ways at the table of well raised people and knew they were quite different that what he was used to. Following the example of the teacher he carefully cut as small peace of lamb and dipped it gently into the mint sauce. Young Thom had never tasted something like that before. He quickly took a larger peace of lamb and yet another one...
The teacher smiled and assured him there was more lamb in the kitchen. Young Thom could recognize a hint and slowed down again. Suddenly he stood up and ran away leaving the teacher wondering what might be wrong. She worriedly called out for him twice and before she could do so a third time young Thom entered the room again holding a dusty bottle of wine. He had remembered the cellar was still full of them and many would no doubt still be good. Two crystal glasses were soon found, filled and raised. To the restoration of this once glorious guesthouse!
The moon raised high above the Inn while many stories were exchanged and a midnight bell could be heard in the distance.

Next : Empty Handed

Friday, April 25, 2008

On the Roof

The next day, young Thom dried his sweaty forehead as he looked down from the hot sunlit roof of the schoolhouse. The last hour of the morning class was held outdoors. All children were seated on the grass and the teacher strolled through the young crowd while gesturing with her hands. Young Thom could not hear what she was saying but he did notice her dance-like moves as she carefully avoided threading on hands or legs. Hoping not to get distracted halfway this time, he once again started to count the broken roof tiles. Of each part of the roof he carefully wrote down the repairs that was need of. By noon the school ground was abandoned and young Thom started some preliminary repair work on the roof’s woodwork. When he reached the chimney he stood up and overlooked the village. It was much smaller than he remembered it from his childhood. It had appeared endless at that time – always a new corner to discover, but now – having lived for about a decade in a city - the village seemed a miniature version of a medieval place. Young Thom pondered on how much the villagers were aware of the rapidly changing world around them but then was interrupted by a call from below. The teacher stood at some distance from the schoolhouse, a basket under one arm and waving with the other arm for young Thom to come down. A last time he looked around. The low sun was casting an orange-red glow on the forest that surrounded the village. In the distance the city could be seen as a purple silhouette. In an hour it would be too dark to work. He climbed down a ladder and laid it against the schoolhouse. As the teacher approached, he quickly dusted of his clothes. She uncovered the basket and inside could be seen a handful of carrots, some turnips, a courgette and a large chunk of red lam’s meat, partially wrapped in an old newspaper. Young Thom’s appetite was further whetted by the smell of the fresh mint that hung out of the basket. The teacher offered to turn all of this into a nice meal and having lived on a diet of bread, butter and eggs, young Thom was unable to resist.

Dinner at the Inn

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Deal

The blacksmith’s son had been very helpful – at least for as far as his age would allow for. Curious as he was, he’d always come by after morning school to see what young Thom was working on. Although the most essential work was done by now, young Thom had decided to continue repairs in the house – be it much at random, without a larger scheme in mind. His skills got to be well known in the village and soon he started to get requests for repairs here and there. Young Thom’s savings were not without end and so the new income was very welcome. One day the blacksmith’s son came by after school as always - this time accompanied by the school teacher. Some work needed to be done on the schoolhouse and the teacher wondered if young Thom was interested. As a teacher she did not have a large budget to spare and she offered to make him a new Sunday suit in repay. And while examining young Thom head to toe, she quickly added that perhaps some repairs on his current vestment might be of need. Young Thom looked down at his punched shirt and torn trousers and decided it was a good offer indeed.

Next : On the Roof

Friday, April 11, 2008

The Bakery

The next few days, young Thom worked hard in the old house to bring back to a decent condition the few rooms that he intended to use. Every morning he made a visit to the bakery for his daily ration of bread, butter and eggs. As the villagers stumbled upon young Thom in the shop, they had little alternative than to address him. Most often they would start by asking him small questions like were he came from and how long he planned on staying and always he would reply patiently and ask some small questions on his turn. One villager brought up memories about young Thom’s father but then suddenly halted, as if realizing where this path of conversation would lead to. Although his family was all that was on young Thom’s mind he thought it not a good idea to bring this up too early. For now he was content with the first breaches in the villagers’ defence.
One morning the butcher’s daughter entered the crowded bakery. As if a stranger had entered, all conversation came to a halt and after some unpleasant silence, the villagers started leaving one by one - even without their errands fulfilled. In no time only the butcher’s daughter and young Thom remained in the shop. He greeted her as friendly as possible – this being not without self interest as he realized she was well placed to know more about his family. And so he offered her to precede him – with an all too transparent excuse that she was probably more in a hurry than he. She kindly accepted the offer but it was to no avail. As soon as she received her bread she left again with a polite goodbye.
As young Thom strolled back to the Inn, he thought about how to proceed with his inquiries fearing he might have to turn some stones the villagers would like be left unturned. But the more difficult it appeared the more determined he felt. This week was to be the last of tittle-tattling.

Next : The Deal

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Blacksmith's Son

Before young Thom could even thank him, the blacksmith proposed that his own son would help to get the abandoned place in order. As the lad no longer had a mother nor an older brother he’d be better of giving a hand than to hang around with the other village brats.
And so, off they walked, the two sons of blacksmiths. Although young Thom had introduced himself to the boy, he got no response except for some fiercely peeking eyes. Then suddenly the boy stated his father was the strongest man of the village and probably of the whole country! Young Thom could not but laugh out loud at this as it was exactly the same thing he would have said at that age! Naturally the boy did not take this too well and insisted that it was all very true. Young Thom was willing to well believe it but could not help to add that no doubt his own father was the strongest man in his days!
While bragging back and forth they quickly reached the old Inn. The boy ran to the entrance while shouting he knew the best room in the house. Young Thom had little choice but to follow the expert. And indeed, it was the best room as young Thom confirmed to the proud boy, but it lacked usable furniture and the window was broken.
Without delay the boy ran away again, this time stating that he would quickly find the best bed available. The boy’s test methods were crude but effective. Out of a dozen beds that he jumped on repeatedly, only two did not break. After the bed was chosen, a quick examination of kitchen and bathroom showed that young Thom would need some tools for repairs and so it was off to the blacksmith’s place again. This time the boy bragged about the trail he was leaving. Young Thom looked over his shoulder and to his horror he saw a line made of drops of blood behind him. The boy had cut his lower leg during the bed jumping and indeed, a nasty cut could be seen, from which ran a constant flow of blood down to the sock and shoe of the boy. The blacksmith’s house was already in sight so carrying on as they were was the best option.
Young Thom feared the father’s reaction, but it was not he, but the son that should have been scared. As the blacksmith examined the cut, he promised the boy to give the wound a firm cleansing with soap and water. With a painful grin, the boy pulled away in agony for the excruciating procedure. Nevertheless the blacksmith sighed to young Thom that the lesson learned would not last merely a week. Young Thom smiled back – more in relief than in reply.

Next : The Bakery

Friday, March 28, 2008

The Blacksmith

Not a man of many words, the barn owner mumbled something about the blacksmith having to decide, and pointed young Thom the direction to go. When young Thom arrived at the blacksmith’s house, a bit of smoke rose up as a hot glowing horse shoe was put in place. Two men with their hands in their pockets were quietly observing the blacksmith hammering in a first nail. As young Thom approached, the two bystanders looked up for a brief moment and quickly returned to watch the work.
Young Thom took of his hat, greeted the men and explained he had a question. The blacksmith still bent forward, snarled back to have some patience. While waiting, young Thom took the opportunity to look around the street. He could see the bakery where quite a few people were standing whispering to each other. It appeared they had noticed young Thom watching them and so they quickly dispersed. Also the baker who’d been standing in his doorway took one last look and turned back inside the house. Young Thom was aware that he would be considered a stranger for still quite some time.
Suddenly the blacksmith impatiently asked what was at hand and as young Thom turned around, all three men where now facing him. The blacksmith laughed quite loud when he saw young Thom upfront and remarked that the boy was his father’s spitting image. It appeared the blacksmith had learned the trade from young Thom’s father. As this was the first friendly remark he’d heard from a villager, young Thom felt encouraged to ask the question about the Inn. The blacksmith saw no problem but consulted the two other men, as he hadn’t lived in the village long enough to know the full story about the Inn. Both men looked at each other but remained silent. Impatient again, the blacksmith asked if there was any problem and since none of the men could come up with something, young Thom’s proposal was therefore granted.

Next : The blacksmith's Son

Friday, March 21, 2008

The Teacher

Suddenly young Thom saw someone standing in the hall. He blinked but this person did not fade away. And then a voice spoke out and a young woman in a blue dress entered. With slight embarrassment, young Thom quickly took a firm pose. As she came closer, young Thom observed the pale skin of her long neck, her silver earrings, her purple dress with bronze buttons – not a woman from the village for sure. She courteously introduced herself as the school teacher and – as an excuse for her sudden appearance – explained that from the classroom she had seen him enter the Inn. While saying all of this, young Thom noticed there was a little smile on her cherry red lips and all he could think of was how long she had been standing there watching him.
Not giving him a chance to ponder on it, she invited young Thom to walk the building together and while doing so, she explained that the Inn had been abandoned after a tragic fight with the innkeeper’s son. More she did not know, but it had been reason enough to drastically change the atmosphere in the whole village – it had not been the same since. Although the Inn had been given back to the village, no one had dared to claim it. The teacher stressed that it was thus free to take for anyone. Anyone.

At the gate of the Inn, the schoolteacher said goodbye and went of to a nearby village for the afternoon class. As if she knew what young Thom was about to ask, she shouted she’d be back in two days.
As she went out of sight, young Thom turned around and walked towards the barn where he’d slept the night before. He had decided that from now on he would stay in the old Inn.

Next : The Blacksmith

Friday, March 14, 2008

The Whistle Inn

Young Thom saw the little school where he’d spent quite some mornings so many years ago, and thus he knew he only had to turn around the corner to see the only fenced building of the village – The Whistle Inn.
Indeed the fence was there, all covered with ivy thereby obscuring the view of the Inn itself - if it was indeed still there. As young Thom approached he could vaguely make out the shape of the building, but it was only when walking through the gate that he saw the condition it was in. Once majestic, now an abandoned ruin where only an old sign too rusty to wave in the wind, hung as a testimony of a glorious past.
The door was open but young Thom hesitated to enter as it would be the very first time. Although he only knew the place from the outside, he had good memories of it. He remembered the owners of the inn and the staff and guest as the friendliest people ever. Every time they walked by the villagers, the mutual greetings were accompanied by deep bows. As a young boy he used to exaggerate those bows, much to the embarresment of his mother. For this reason he had never understood why he was always warned never to enter the Inn - at least not via the front gate. In the mornings the backdoor had always been the busiest place, where villagers and staff were unloading milk and butter and exchanging clean and dirty linen. It was here that the young boy tried to be as often as he could, not just to get a glimpse of it all, but mainly because he was hoping to receive some sweets or other tasty treats from the big man with the funny white hat.

Young Thom wet his lips as he entered the hall of the Inn. He looked at the sand covered tiles, the beautifully painted but now water stained ceiling, the broken ornaments on the walls and then he saw a long dusty desk.
Young Thom looked again and this time the desk was shiny, with a clerk behind it greeting some guest that had just arrived. Then young Thom could hear some music coming from a room next to the hall - a large lusciously decorated dining room. Young Thom passed by a waiter as the man cleared a table from tea cups and cake crumbles. Then he followed some guest as they went to take a look through the panoramic window at the far end of the dining room. And indeed the view was to be marvelled at. In a corner of the dining room was a small stage, raised a feet up from a square dance floor. As a pianist commenced a Waltz, young Thom was invited by a woman in a long white dress. Even though he did not know how to dance, young Thom tried a few steps, aided by two fine hands in pink lace gloves.
But young Thom felt dizzy after a few turns and decided it was enough. So he made a last swing around the room while fading it all away.
Young Thom looked again. The panoramic view was for real, as he could see through some broken windows. But all what remained of the dining room was a limped piano chair leaning in a corner, overlooking a few dusty tables spread out across a broken up floor.

Next: The Teacher

Friday, March 7, 2008

The Butcher's Daughter

A young woman carrying a heavy bucket of water crossed his way. Her white apron was all covered with dark red smears and spatters of blood. Although the young woman looked quite strong with broad shoulders, she did walk rather graciously: leaning towards one side with one arm stretched out to counter the bucket’s weight. When she looked up, young Thom was reminded of the strong face, as if carved out of wood, that the butcher’s wife used to have. But he also remembered that the wife had died shortly after giving birth to a daughter. As a child this daughter always wanted to play along with the boys of the village. She had been a persistent one and had even shown to be stronger than some of the boys of her own age. She was two years younger than Thom and he mainly remembered her as a childish pest.
Apart from her apparent strength, not much of this young woman reminded him of that little girl. When they passed each other, she lowered her head and with a swift move she raised her arm and swung here braided pony from back to chest while briefly looking up from under here eyebrows. Once again young Thom tried to smile, but the woman quickly focused forward, giving him no chance. But she did blink twice, as Young Thom could see and he continued down the road with a smile on his face.

Next : The Whistle Inn

Friday, February 29, 2008

The Butchers

While walking down the hill again, young Thom had a good view of the village and from one particular side he could hear the recognizable screaming of a pig whose throat was being slit. Inside the village, he followed the plume and crackling sound of fire and eventually the smell of the burnt pig’s hair. Upon arrival at the butcher’s house, he found the pig hanging upside down, its skin being scrapped and washed by two men. Young Thom knew very well that the next step would be even smellier so he hurried to arrest the working men. Already a knife in their hands they greeted the stranger. Once again young Thom introduced himself as the son of the blacksmith and was about to ask for his sister’s whereabouts, but the elder of the two interrupted him before he even could raise the question and the man said they knew nothing of her. From the letters of his mother and sister young Thom knew that this could not be true for his family had lived at the butcher’s house, so he insisted that surely they must know something. The men replied with irritation and demanded that they should be left to work. Young Thom left them, as indeed the men had work to do, but he was set to return that same afternoon. As he walked away, the intestinal sounds behind him made him sped up his pace.
Finding a better place to sleep was the task at hand.
Some of the houses brought back vague memories and young Thom decided to search for the guesthouse that he remembered, mainly from those fancily dressed people that always stayed there. Young Thom slowed down when walking by the blacksmith’s house. The constant hammering sound suddenly stopped and young Thom felt a shiver through his body when he saw the silhouette of a man against the red glow of the fire. Young Thom quickly continued down the road. It seemed more and more people looked through windows and doors to get a glimpse of the stranger of whom they no doubt had all heard by now. Although he replied the looks with nods and smiles, none of the people responded back, and if they did, it was by turning their heads away and continuing with their work.

Next : The Butcher's Daughter

Friday, February 22, 2008

His Mother's Grave

When asking for a place to sleep, young Thom was met with silence. But then one man stepped forward and pointed upward. At the back of the barn, young Thom could see a ladder towards a hayloft. He thanked the man who he assumed to be the owner and said he would go to sleep immediately. By the time young Thom reached the loft, all men had already left the barn. Only the owner remained present to point out that the barn’s door would be locked and that young Thom should knock on the inner door towards the main house in case he was in need of something.
Not many hours later, before dawn, the barn door was opened again, and without a word, the owner brought some bread, cheese and milk to young Thom. While eating and drinking, he thought of his mother who had died less than a year ago. The news of which he had been informed by letter, and so he asked the owner of the barn the way to the graveyard and also the whereabouts of his sister of whom he hadn’t heard since. The barn owner pointed at the cross of the chapel that could be seen above the trees at the top of a hill. About the sister he did not know, but perhaps young Thom should ask the butcher. It was the place where both his mother and sister last stayed. Young Thom thanked the barn owner again and left for the graveyard.
It was a sunny day, and yet the village appeared quite dark. It was much unlike young Thom remembered it, but that should not have been a surprise. The last time young Thom walked about these houses was the day he left here to work in the factory at the other end of the country. Only his mother had been there to wave him goodbye. His father had not returned from war long before that day and his mother was not able to support a son while being pregnant of a daughter. But young Thom did not know of this at that time. Indeed, he only came to know of the girl’s existence through the writings of his mother and, years later, those of his sister herself. Her handwriting was therefore the only thing he knew of her. All of this was on young Thom’s mind as he cleared one year’s weed from his mother’s grave – a wooden cross that was about to break.

Next: The Butchers

Friday, February 15, 2008

The arrival

[All short and dry. Pure facts. No dialogues.]

It was the 4th of September, and young Thom felt the first chill of autumn while making his way through this dark landscape that looked like a battlefield the day after. One could not tell which was darker: the gray thunderclouds so heavy they should fall down or the muddy brown hills like rheumatoid knuckles. Oblivious to all of this, his head bent down to avoid the lashes of rain and hail, young Thom, the son of a father who died in one of the great wars hardly made his way through a stream of mud that should have been a road. But it was the only road to the village, as young Thom knew, for he once lived there with his mother and his unborn sister. In those days that road would have brought visitors to the village, travellers, most of them on their way to the city. But now not many travellers would come here, so young Thom thought as he entered the village square.
All windows were dark, but then he heard some laughter coming from a barn, and saw some streaks of light underneath the door. A dozen men sitting at tables in groups of tree or more went quiet and looked at the visitor as he entered. Young Thom removed his cape to reveal his head and knowing the men could not recognize him after so many years he introduced himself as the son of Thomas Seton, the blacksmith. There could be no doubt that all of them remembered blacksmith Thomas, for all of their tools where forged by him, and he’d shod their horses hooves. Furthermore, the father of young Thom had been the spokesman for the village. He talked well, and not many dared to challenge his rhetoric, if only for his mighty and rising physical appearance. Yes, the men did remember Thomas Seton, and they could see that it was indeed his son who stood before them, both feet firmly on the ground, slightly apart, his strong shoulders bracing his wide chest and his head straight up. One could not stand more proudly.

Next : His Mother's Grave

Preface

Well...here it is.
A first attempt at trying to draft a story online.
Reading a little chapter about every week is probably not going to attract many readers, but I do hope to get some comment once in a while.
But I see this blog as an experiment.
In fact, I'm hoping to learn a lot from comments.
I'm relatively new to story telling, I'm not a native English speaker, etc...

So feel free to comment on everything. Going from logical mistakes in the story, to bad formulation or punctuation. Tell me when it's getting really boring or when you can't wait to read the next part.

While the story evolves, I will probably add some graphics here and there.
But I have no idea where the story will lead to, or hey...even where this blog will lead to !

Note that remarks and reminders for myself are [written like this].

Here we go.
Happy reading !