Another Governess / The Least Blacksmith: A Diptych (8 page)

In the morning my brother wakes me. I follow him from the house to the forge. I face my brother across the anvil. I did not expect to be my brother's striker. When my brother taps with his hammer, I have to remind myself that I am his striker before I strike with the sledge. My brother is unhappy. I am too slow. I do not always strike where he has indicated. I am grateful that my brother does not have a new job to finish. My slowness would be much worse for my brother if a customer were waiting on my brother's work. My brother wants me to practice with the nail rods. My arms are tired. It takes me five strikes to head each nail. Time after time my brother throws my nails in the scrap pile. My brother calls me to the anvil. He holds the iron on the anvil. He taps. I look at the iron. The anvil is mounted too high. The grips on the tools are too wide. I strike blows where my brother taps. My brother says I can stop. A man has appeared at the double doors. It is the doctor. He carries a packet of papers. They must contain the findings from his new equipment. Our father has yielded such a thick packet of papers. I should not have expected anything less from our father. I try to see if my brother is proud of the papers our father yielded. My brother does not look at me. He is approaching the doctor at the double doors. The doctor gives the packet to my brother. My brother's fingers mark the white pages. He looks at the doctor. The doctor explains that our father had been suffering from a long illness. It is a blessing that our father's suffering is over. A sudden death is a wonderful thing when a man is suffering from a long illness. It is more tragic when a sick man dies slowly from a long illness, or when a healthy man dies suddenly. The doctor wants us to know this was not the case with our father. The doctor thinks my brother does not look well. He offers to run tests on my brother at his office. My brother does not like to leave the forge. He says no to the doctor. I would not have said no to the doctor. The doctor has taken an interest in my brother. My brother is big and strong but unwell. He is exactly what the doctor wants in a patient. My brother does not have time to be a patient. He is rude to the doctor. He throws the packet of papers on the hearth. The doctor's eyes shine as he watches the papers burn on the hearth. His mouth trembles. I am surprised that my brother is so rude. He has assumed responsibility for the forge too young. The responsibility is changing him. My brother turns his back on the doctor. I do not want to defy my brother. I turn my back on the doctor. When I look again the doctor is gone.

I wish I could have interested the doctor. I know that I would be a good patient. The doctor does not think I have what it takes. After my brother's rejection, the doctor will not come to the forge again. I will not have another opportunity to interest the doctor. My brother has spoiled the doctor's visit. The doctor's previous visit was much better. The doctor spoke movingly and my brother behaved appropriately, in a way that the doctor said would make our father proud.

Our father must not have known he was suffering from a long illness. Every day he worked in the forge. He turned the iron and my brother struck the iron with the sledge. My brother lifted the sledge high. He struck the iron in just the right place. Our father's leather apron fit my brother perfectly. Our father turned the iron. He hammered. He plunged the iron in the tub. He never tired. Until my brother, no blacksmith had ever surpassed our father. I pumped the bellows. I swept the floor. I went into town for the meat and the bread. Our father had a huge appetite. Only my brother can eat as much as my father. I always put the meat on the dishes for our father and my brother. Now that I am my brother's striker my brother says I need to eat meat. I need to fill my dish with meat. Otherwise I will not grow. I will not improve as a striker and my brother's work will suffer.

For dinner I fill my dish with meat. I eat the dish of meat. My brother refills his dish. He refills my dish. My brother thinks I have what it takes to be his striker. I am eating meat and soon I will be able to lift the sledge easily. I will lift the sledge high. My brother and I eat the meat without speaking. I cannot speak. The meat is piling up in my throat. The cavity inside my body is filled with meat, but there is more meat on my dish. There is no room in my cavity, but I cannot leave meat on my dish. I take all of the meat from my dish and put it in my mouth. I swallow. Some of the meat remains in my mouth.

My brother sleeps in the bed where our father slept. I sleep in the bed where my brother slept. I store the pallet where I used to sleep beneath my brother's bed, which is now the bed where I sleep. As soon as I lie down the meat begins to push out of my cavity. More and more of the meat comes up from my throat to fill my mouth. Luckily I vomit without noise. I vomit on the floor beside the bed. I reach beneath the bed and grab a corner of the pallet. I pull the pallet over the vomit and slide the pallet back beneath the bed. The vomit slides beneath the bed with the pallet. The pallet is on top of the vomit and the vomit cannot be seen. I am good at hiding the vomit. Not a trace remains on the floor. It is a job well done. I hope I am still holding some of the meat inside. I did my best to finish the meat. I finished the meat. I hope I did not waste all of the meat that I worked so hard to finish. It was a mistake to lie down. If I had remained standing up the meat piled in my throat would have weighed on the meat lower down in my cavity. I should have used the weight of the meat, like my brother says I need to use the weight of the sledge. I am too tired not to lie down after dinner. Maybe I can sleep sitting on the floor with my back against the wall. When I am bigger I will be able to hold more meat. I need to hold the meat inside in order to grow. Next time I will use the weight of the meat to my advantage.

Now that I am my brother's striker, there is no helper to pump the bellows and sweep the floors. There is no helper to go into town for the meat and the bread. My brother says he will hire a helper. Until my brother hires a helper, I must perform the old tasks. I am glad I must perform the old tasks. It is too tiring to face my brother across the anvil with the sledge for hours and hours. The pains in my elbows make the tears come to my eyes. Sometimes the tears go down my face. My brother does not say anything. He taps with the hammer and I strike with the sledge. I am grateful he does not comment on the tears on my face. I doubt my brother ever struck the iron with tears on his face. If a customer appeared at the double doors I would be ashamed. The customer might mistake me for my brother's son and I know this mistake would not make my brother proud. No customer appears.

While my brother forges hoes, I go into town for the meat and the bread. I walk along the wharves. I admire the civil ensigns flying from the ships. Two small children are playing mumblety-peg on a stretch of mud. Once I would have wanted to join them but now I am my brother's striker. Our father is dead and I have smoked a cigar. I do not want to join the children. The children beckon for me to play. The blade of their knife is broken. It does not stick in the mud no matter how skillfully they make their throws. I tell the children I have no time for games. I will repair their knife if they bring it to the forge. The children do not believe me. They say I have forfeited the game. They are still the champions of the wharves. They mock me as I walk away. I am looking for the doctor's office. I cannot remember which office is the doctor's office. I remember it is not far from the wharves. Every office in the town looks alike. The façades are identical. North of the wharves is the industrial section of the town. The biggest building is the drapery. The drapery is thriving. In the lot behind the drapery, men load crates onto lorries to take to the wharves. I watch the men load the crates. All of the men are smoking cigars as they work. The men see me watching and shout to me. They offer me a job loading crates. The drapery is thriving. There are too many crates for the men to load onto the lorries. They are behind schedule. I tell the men that I already have a job. I am the striker from the forge on the hill. The men seem impressed. The biggest man offers me a cigar. I am thankful that I already know how to smoke cigars. I smoke the cigar easily. The men drop a crate and it breaks open. Uniforms spill from the crate. The drapery produces uniforms for the soldiers. There are many soldiers stationed along the coast and the draper is a rich man. He pays his manager the highest salary of all the managers in the town. The manager makes sure that the uniforms do not vary from one another in any way except for the sizes. The drapery produces excellent uniforms between which no variations can be detected. When the men drop the crates and the uniforms spill onto the dirty lot, the manager's work is ruined. The fouled uniforms are unfit for the soldiers. The men get down on their knees to pick up the uniforms. The manager appears and begins to abuse the men for their stupidity. I walk away out of consideration for the men. I finish my cigar in front of the drapery.

Even though the drapery is thriving, the paint has peeled from the façade of the drapery. The sign is illegible. The manager cannot be blamed for the outside condition of the drapery. In the town, paint peels immediately. Salts draw moisture from the wood and the moisture pushes the paint off the boards. The manager will have the drapery repainted soon. My brother told me that our mother painted the boards alongside the windows of our house. He can remember that the boards looked bright, although he cannot remember what kind of bright. He remembers bright like a summer sky, which means they might have been yellow or blue. I cannot remember the bright boards. The paint peeled. There are no traces of paint on the boards. The forge is on the hill above the bay, but the salts travel in the air. The salts pushed the paint off the boards.

When the blacksmith and his striker are working hard in the forge on the hill, the ground vibrates. The air vibrates. The salt shakes out of the air. Unless you see the crystals on the ground at the end of the day, you know you could have worked harder. The day our father showed my brother the crystals on the ground was the proudest day of my brother's life. My brother showed me where the crystals covered the ground. The crystals were deep enough for my brother to leave his tracks. I told my brother that our father must have poured the salt on the ground. Our father poured the salt when my brother was not looking. My brother struck my face. I woke up on the ground. My mouth tasted like iron. The ground was vibrating. The air was vibrating. I lay looking up at the summer sky. The brightness was made of tiny points like crystals. I did not mean to hurt my brother by telling him our father poured the salt on the ground. I do not know why my brother was hurt. I never heard our father tell stories about salt. I would have been happy if our father showed me the salt he poured on the ground. I would not have cared that it did not shake from the air, not if our father had put it on the ground for me to see.

After I buy the meat and the bread I think about where to go. I have been gone from the forge for much of the day. It should not have taken so long to buy the meat and the bread. I am very slow. I am developing too slowly. Our father did not take an interest in me. He could tell that I would be slow. I should not be my brother's striker. The striker must surpass the blacksmith. I will never surpass my brother. It is too bad I am his only relative. My brother should have a son. How will my brother have a son? He has taken responsibility for the forge. The forge requires all of his attention. Once my brother has expanded the forge, the forge will require even more attention. If the improvements my brother makes are labor-saving improvements, perhaps the improvements will free up time for my brother. But my brother will have to take responsibility for the labor-saving improvements. This new responsibility will occupy the time freed up by the improvements. My brother will be angry I wasted time looking for the doctor's office. I will tell my brother that there was a long line at the bakery. Foreigners enjoy the pastries typical to our region. The bakery is thriving. The baker has raised the prices. Only the foreigners buy the pastries. Before foreigners began visiting our town, the bakery did not need to bake any pastries. Now the baker bakes more pastries than loaves of bread. The baker raised the price of the loaves of bread so that the loaves of bread cost nearly as much as the pastries. The pastries do not seem expensive when you consider the price of bread.

I return to the wharves. Maybe I will recognize the doctor's dead end street. It is pleasant to walk around by the wharves. Foreigners are eating pastries in the sunshine. Seagulls circle the foreigners. The older foreigners have ivory-topped canes. They threaten the seagulls with their canes. They gesture feebly with their canes. The older foreigners are not so old that they need to gesture so feebly. It is obvious that the older foreigners do not mind the seagulls. The younger foreigners carry notebooks. They take notes in their notebooks. From the expressions on their faces, they consider the town a good risk for investment. They shake pastry crumbs for the seagulls. The fish sellers do not like that the foreigners shake crumbs for the seagulls. Seagulls are a nuisance. The town has an ordinance against feeding the seagulls. The fish sellers will not report the foreigners. The foreigners create small nuisances but they have made the town prosperous. The fish sellers are selling cases of fish to the foreigners. The fish lie in rows on the ice. Their mouths are open. Their eyes and their scales are bright. The fish sellers get a good price for the fish. I had never thought that the town could become prosperous. The faded buildings give the town a dilapidated look. The town is not dilapidated. Paint peels immediately because of the salts. The faded buildings are not neglected. Some of the buildings are new. I do not remember all of these buildings from my previous walks by the wharves. They must be new. The new buildings make it hard for me to find the doctor's street. The foreigners like the dilapidated look of the town. The town is actually quite safe. The dilapidation is typical of the region. It is picturesque and not an impediment to growth.

I wander away from the wharves to the center of the town. The streets are wider in the center of the town. I stand in the middle of the street. I have my back to the bay. Nothing blocks the view of the forge. The crest of the hill is bare. Our father cut the trees for charcoal. There is smoke in the blue sky above the forge. I can hear my brother working high above the town. The sounds travel on the air. I am hungry from my walk. I eat all of the loaf of bread I bought from the baker. I eat standing in the middle of the street. I am very hungry. I look through the display windows of the buildings. One of the buildings displays hammers in the window. The display is of a high quality. Hammers are mounted on hooks that fit through holes in a board. The hammers have different colored handles. Other than the colors of the handles the hammers are the same. The difference between the hammers is purely decorative. I enter the building. It is a hardware store. There are bins of machined nails and bolts. The clerk tries to speak with me. I will not speak to the clerk. I leave the store immediately. It is urgent that I return to the forge, but I have no bread. I go again to the bakery. The doctor enters the bakery as the baker hands me the loaf of bread in a paper bag. I wait for the doctor to make his purchase. The doctor does not look at me. He buys seeded rolls. I am too embarrassed to speak to the doctor, but I follow him back to his office. I pay attention to the turns the doctor makes. The doctor's office is at the end of a dead end street. There are bundles of newspapers outside of the office next door to the doctor's. I do not know how I would have forgotten that the doctor's office is next door to the newspaper office. The newspaper office must have moved. I do not think the newspaper office was located on a dead end street. Now that the doctor has gone into his office the street is empty. I pull a newspaper from a bundle and slide it into the bag with the bread.