At The Crossroads
By Valerie L. Egar
England 1586
When
Aldi heard the cathedral bells ring once, he slipped from his bed in the attic and
crept down the stairs, making certain his heavy knapsack didn’t smack against
the stair rails and wake anyone. Gunner would be angry if he knew he was
leaving. Aldi foraged in the kitchen and found half a loaf of bread and a
handful of walnuts. He put them in his knapsack and opened the front door.
In the distance,
an owl hooted and a thin slice of moon lit the sky. Aldi walked on cobblestones
in the shadows of the stone buildings lining the street. Past the baker, past
the apothecary, past the weaver.
“Woof!” The weaver’s dog, Sitsi, barked. Aldi
quickened his step and was soon at the city’s edge. He sighed. His knapsack was
heavy, but his unseen burdens were heavier. Along with three other boys, Aldi
was apprenticed to Gunner to learn the trade of scrivener— copying legal
documents neatly and accurately and on occasion, writing petitions to the Queen.
Though he liked Gunner and all he was learning, in the past week, Gunner had
done the unthinkable— he’d taken a girl as an apprentice!
Though Aldi might
have been happy relinquishing his job making ink for everyone to Margaret, he
was sure crushing the minerals in a mortar and adding just enough gum Arabic
and rainwater was not something she could easily master. He looked carefully at
the first batch she made, hoping to find a tiny lump of charcoal. “This looks a
little watery,” he said, glancing at the older apprentices thinking they might
join in. Margaret hung her head.
Gunner didn’t even
look at the ink Margaret had just poured into his inkhorn. He said, “I don’t
recall anyone being unkind to you when the red ink you made looked orange, Aldi.”
“Or when you cut
the quill wrong and it bled ink all over the page,” said the oldest apprentice
John.
Aldi turned bright
red. Then, Margaret giggled. That was it!
Much as he liked Gunner, much as he liked learning to be a scrivener, he
made his mind up to leave. He couldn’t return home— his parents would send him
back. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He got to the crossroads and sat on a
rock to think.
The road was dark
and it wasn’t safe to be wandering around at night. Aldi heard more than his
share of stories about spirits that roamed the countryside. He was certain he heard footsteps approaching , but it was too dark
to see. He thought he saw movement, a slight form coming closer. If he ran,
whatever it was would be alerted to his presence. If he stood quietly, maybe it would pass by.
Aldi leaned against a tree, holding his breath as
the footsteps grew closer. Whatever it was sat on the same rock he occupied
moments ago! Wouldn’t a ghost float or move more quietly? This seemed to be
human, and from what he could see, much smaller than he. “Who goes there?”
“Oh!” a girl
screamed.
Aldi recognized
her voice. Margaret. “What are you doing here?”
“Running away.
None of you want me around.”
Aldi didn’t know
what to say.
“You just think
I’m a dumb girl who’s going to mess things up. You don’t know my father was a
scrivener. I helped him make ink since I was 8. He was going to teach me but he
died.” She started to cry. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.” Margaret paused.
“What are you doing here?”
Aldi shrugged.
“Running away.”
“Because of me?”
Aldi felt foolish.
Maybe he’d judged too quickly. “Why don’t we walk back together?” he said.
“It’s awfully dark to walk back alone.”
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Copyright 2018 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author.
Published March 18, 2018 Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME)
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