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I am doing a
little experiment. I am going to write a series of chapters in a fantasy
world of my creation and see if it goes anywhere. Since I have not
prewritten this story and have no outline, it will probably end up a convoluted
mess. I do not know how often I will be able to update this or if it will
ever finish. This is the link to CHAPTER 1. (I have also found that I have to go back and clean up
very broken sentences in previous chapters. This is why I need an editor.
I understand what I am writing, but I need to make sure other people do
too.)
Chapter 10: Uncle
Apple took
to her role like an arrow takes to a quiver.
Fit, ready, and when used by a master devastatingly effective. She had two instructors, the flashy uncle and
the somber dark skinned grandfather and they taught in entirely different
directions.
On the
first day of the ship ride West she was shown how to clean and polish shoes, so
she shined every shoe on the ship. In
return she was told stories the whole time by Malachite, and then by each
member of the crew in turn while their boots were polished.
Malachite
always stood by, greeting each member of the crew, analyzing them, and
addressing them by name two or three times each while they told their stories,
asking for little bits of information or details. Each time asking Apple if she had any
questions for the story teller, and suggesting what question she might ask when
she couldn't think of any. "Apple,
ask Sid here what he was smelling when he walked under the peer looking for the
lost dog." "Apple, ask Jonus
what his favorite song he heard that night was." "Apple you should ask Lance if he has
ever eaten a finer meal while in a dress."
By the end
of the evening there was not one blemished boot on the whole boat. And as Malachite said to the last sailor,
"Have a goodnight Chester, that was a fine story, you tell that one at
every little town?"
"No
sir," said Chester. "You're
the first to hear it in years."
"That
is a crime," said Malachite.
"You should be using that bit of heart wreck to win the sympathies
of every lady on the Color Line."
"I
prefer men sir," said Chester.
"There
are many young men that would find you tasty as peach nectar after hearing that
little tale."
"Thank
you sir."
"Call
me, Mal" said Malachite, shutting the door.
"Did I
do good, Mal?" asked Apple.
"You
can call me sir," said Malachite to the girl. "Uncle if you prefer."
"Yes,
Uncle," said Apple. "Did I do
good?"
"Yes,"
said Malachite. "Let me ask you,
Apple. How many of the men on this boat
do you think you could name?"
"I
don't know," said Apple.
"Well,"
said Malachite. "Close your eyes
and try to remember each story, who told it, what their boots looked like,
anything you can remember and pretend you have to tell all the stories to
someone one after another."
"That
would take all day."
"Yes
it would," said Malachite.
"But just try to remember each story, and the name of the person
who told it, then say the names as titles for the stories."
"What?"
"When
you are trying to remember someone, think of what you know about them, who they
think they are and what they told you about themselves. Make their story, your memory of them. Then when you see them, you will be able to
greet them by name and remember what they want you to know about them,"
said Malachite. "They could have
told you any story they wanted, but they chose the one they did because they
thought you would like it, or maybe they wanted to impress me, or maybe it was
the only story they knew that would last while you polished, but they chose it
for a reason, it is the impression they chose to make."
"Uncle,"
said Apple. "You want me to
remember everyone on the ship. That is
so many."
"I can
name every person who came thru here," said Malachite. "I could tell you what their story was,
or close to it. And I am sure I could
ask anyone of them for a favor and they would help me, and I would pay them
back big later. This is how you make
friends, and friends are important.
People want you to hear their story, but they really want you to
remember it, to feel for them. Think
about that okay."
"Okay,"
said Apple.
"Now
you should go eat with Pasgard," said Malachite. "I think he will want you to call him
Master or Wizard, ask which he prefers when you see him. This is important, you make sure his plate is
never bear, and his glass is never empty... That would be a task difficult for
any man, a legendary chore for a squire or apprentice, you might barely get any
chance to eat at all, but he is your teacher, you serve him, and listen
closely."
"Yes,
Uncle."
