Woman

"Ever since you got here, Matilda's been crazy about you. You know that?" Joseph says and gives me a monstrous grin.

I know he tries to put me at ease with this grin. To gain my trust. Truly, Joseph appears to me as half giant and half dragon. Who could resist trusting such a warm combination?

I squirm under his gaze. Distracting myself to keep up my ruse and not give myself, and this new home, up.

The entire barn is covered in tools and sawdust. Usually we tie a length of cloth round our faces to keep from coughing. But today, we kept the barn door open. Joseph's been talking a whole lot.

Nothing slows Joseph down from work. Not heat, and not me. In the beginning I would feel rather like a prisoner in a dragon's cave than an apprentice. The heat was overbearing. The hours were long. I had never worked a day in my life.

"You know, I don't think she'd ever tell you boy, but she loves you like her own. Heck, I don't think we could love you more even if you were our own kid," Joseph says.

I look up at Joseph, determined steely focus, barely 35 years old, running his own business and towering over most men. Towering over me. His broad shoulders and muscular physique from years of building houses and furniture around this town make him look like a mountain. A tan mountain, at that, from a lifetime of sun exposure.

"Really sir, I should thank you. You've given me everything. A life, a home, work to do. And God knows, you keep me busy from driving myself mad about-" My voice becomes deeper as I struggle to continue speaking.

"Michael, listen," Joseph takes my shoulder and turns me towards him. "Remember this, my wife and I love you. Past and all. A hundred men can get killed over one man's mistakes, but wars like that can only be solved by that one man. Forgiveness is key. Don't let your past control you. Let bygones be in the past."

I snap my arm out to the wooden bench we are working on. I clench the edge in my fist for a brief moment to let out my frustration. I drop my hand to my side.

For many minutes the only sound is the scratching of metal against wood. A sound that is now familiar and comforting. I let the tension from my mind run into the work.

We've been building these chairs all day. I sigh and stretch my muscles. Joseph watches me from the corner of his eye when he thinks I'm not looking. But who could ignore that fiery dragon look? I glance over. Joseph sweeps out a chisel and scratches at the edges of the oak, carving a geometric design into the back of the chairs.

"Matilda always tells me this," He keeps talking while carving precisely. "Now don't go babbling like a new pup to her that I got sappy on you, but I'll give you some advice. You've known me for a good year now. We've seen seasons pass. This town has grown and our life's not been easy. Anyways, we've run a stable business you and I, and Matilda's the best house runner this side of the country. All I've got to say is that we're lucky that the Creator dropped such a man at our doorstep and for every chance at my own child I would say no as long as I got you."

I try to pull the same smooth effortlessness into my task as Joseph. If only I was his real child.

"That's how much we love you. Matilda, God bless her, is a strong woman. She tells me that a good man's got a compass in his heart. That compass puts him right, you know. Tells him to tell the truth, seek justice, do no wrong or harm to others. She says, 'when that compass is pointing True North, in a good man, it shines straight onto his face'. And boy, you have that."

I feel my face heat up and I let my past simmer down to the back of my mind. I crack up and smile, but not too much that he notices.

Joseph brushes the surface of the chair and lifts it off the bench in one move. I look down at my own design. It is a similar design for the side chairs of a grande dining room. A little less intricate, so Joseph let me help out once he noticed I had a skill for carpentry.

After looking thoughtful at the wooden beams that hold the roof, Joseph let's out a full bearded grin. As close to a stream of fire as any human can get.

"Of course Matilda's my woman, she's been saying for a dozen years that I've got Truth North right here," Joseph taps the chisel against his heart and let's out a pride full chuckle.

I can't help but crack a full smile at the man who's helped me.

"So how's about we run this dining set over to Milton to get a nice lacquer finish and I'll say we get these chairs to the Tomken's in about four days.

"I'll load the cart," I say and scramble to take a sheet over to the cart to cover the wooden bottom so that the chairs don't slide.

We load the cart, Joseph with ease, and I, of course, struggling to lift the chairs over my head. We head up the road to the Milton's farm. They are a good mile up the road next to a range of oak trees. They are our closest neighbors, and good business partner.

Tom Milton hears us before he sees us, as usual, and we see the deep blue front door open. He yells out to us.

"Oye! Joseph, I knew you'd be here today. I told Elsa yesterday, I did, that Oye, that Joe will have those chairs ready tomorrow. Don't you frett we'll catch a dime for your wedding yet. Shoulda seen that girl light up," Milton shakes Joseph's hand.

Milton has always reminded me of the parrot bird I once saw at a fair many years ago. The eager responses to every word uttered, the slightly protruding stomach and the streaks of colour that always remain on the tips of his clothes. So colourful and loud in such a quiet orderly world...

"I'm a man of time brother. You know just as much as I that these chairs need at least two solid days to dry after you paint them," Joseph says.

"Look at that chisel work! And here I was thinking old Joe was going blind," Milton says as he runs his hand against a side chair.

Maybe he's not so parrot-like. He's got pretty good sense of style.

"That was my work actually," I chirp, feeling proud of a good word from Milton.

Milton looks surprised and throws me a grin, his one missing canine gives him a rough look. I try not to stare and begin unloading the chairs.

"Boy, you've got a stable future for you."

Joseph beams and pats my back.

"That he does, and I'll make sure of it."

We unload the chairs and head inside for some tea. Mrs. Milton drops some cups down on the table and I warm up by the fire. With winter's onset upon us we have to work quick and hard before we settle in for the restraints of the season.

Milton and Joseph bring around their regular friendship and talk jokes and business.

I listen in and take a moment to just enjoy the comforting feeling.

Elsa knocks on the door and I adjust myself to sit taller, Joseph clears his throat and holds up his cup to Elsa in greeting.

"Milton you've got a beautiful daughter, you better mind those chaps that come visiting from Winsor."

"My Elsa handles them just fine, right sweetheart?" Milton and Joseph laugh.

Elsa smiles and places a tray of her mother's famous raisin bread on the table. All of us eagerly reach for a piece. Milton leans into his chair and pats his stomach after he swallows his last bite.

"I'd watch my weight but the missus would feel down right insulted if I said no to her raisin toast."

"Father, you could hold off a little." Elsa says and rests on a chair beside me and grins at her father's satisfied sigh and overly stuffed gut.

Her blonde hair is long and twisted into a neat tight braid. Her modest grey dress is hemmed to her height and suits her eyes nicely.

Elsa glances at me and her eyes squint lightly.

"How is it?"

I stop myself from shoving another piece in my mouth. As I have become accustomed to eating with men like Milton I need to remember my manners from time to time.

"It's delicious," I say.

"Really? I made it myself," She gleams.

I brush my hand over my short brown hair that was so long just two years ago. I swallow down the annoyance with the bread.

"That's great Elsa, you're a great baker. Maybe you can teach me some time."

Elsa laughs. I am unsure what to say next. Why do I always slip? I glance at Tom and Joseph who have fully taken interest in their own conversation. Thank God they weren't listening.

"You, in the kitchen, I think my mother would faint! Men don't usually work in the kitchen remember?" Elsa whispers.

Elsa laughs and I nervously chortle.

Soon after, Joseph and I say our goodbyes and head out and to have dinner with Matilda. A hot corn soup with a thick slice of day old bread.

I stride to my room, accustomed to the long day, I feel less tired than before. But still exhausted! It took a few months to become a friend to this full day of labour. Months. I reach under my sleeves and unwrap the cloth around my arms that make my arms look bigger. Only a little bigger. I search my shelf with my eyes and pull out a history book about the Kingdom. My home.

I skim through the first chapter again and find the map.

I draw the waving lines with my finger to memorize our borders. From Enawe to around the border of Winsor and across Chamberlain, barely touching the King's lands. Duntroon rests close to Winsor, but is still at least a day's travel because of the farms in between.

Enawe is barely considered part of the Northern Kingdom at all, as it's still a holiday spot for most of the rich and endowed. To get to Enawe from Winsor would take three days at least, but from here, maybe four. If Duntroon were closer to the King's Castle, maybe Joseph and I would get royal business. I sigh.

I run my fingers from Winsor to the closest approximation of my location in Duntroon.

The carpenters and blacksmiths in the Northern Kingdom get a load of business from the palace. Some of them don't mind showing it off either. Mr. Stein happens to be one of them. He sells metal to blacksmiths around the Kingdom and comes to buy from the mines nearby. Mrs. Rubest thinks he's a git. But to give Mr. Stein some credit, Mrs. Rubest thinks most of the wealthy are gits. Anyways, we get plenty of business around here. It's good.

It's stable, and it's quiet.

As I lay in bed and think, I flow to sleep. My mind races to reach easy dreams.