1/30/12
Isaiah T. Silkwood
Writing Strands Lesson # 6
WHAT MAKES IT WHAT IT IS
THE GIFT
Mary stood in front of her dingy little mirror. She had just folded the last of her hair into a bun and slid her hairpin in place. Nabbing her bonnet she placed it on her head and tied a quick knot under her chin. She glanced down at her dress and turned her body, admiring the way that the dress swirled and bounced. Her husband, Eli Canterhaven, had brought the light olive green dress home to her as a gift after his last voyage on the vessel of his merchant employer. It was simple yet elegant. It had green sleeves and body, with a shining milky white strip that came flowing up the center. She was sure that she had the best husband in the world. She would always think the best of him, whether he brought home elaborate gifts, small gifts, or no gifts at all. The best gift that he ever brought home was himself. The last six months of his absence had seemed like an eternity, but at last she expected to see his vessel within the next few weeks.
She glanced back into their small apartment at all of her embroidery work that was strewn about at various points of completion. Seeing that she had forgotten nothing she stepped gaily outside.
Today was the day of the Philadelphia street market, and she lived only a block away. The Sunday prior marked the completion of one of her largest projects. A fully embroidered dress. The following Tuesday she had been able to deliver the dress, with the needlework done in a pearly silk, to her client. The client had provided the material and, at last, the payment for the work. She walked briskly along the sidewalk joyously humming her favorite tune. She had been blessed with such a fine client that month that she couldn’t wait to pass that blessing along to her husband. Though deep down she knew the best gift that either of them could receive was each other’s company.
Turning left one final time she approached the market’s west end. She didn’t know what to get Eli, “I wonder if I shall find anything that will suit his fancy?” She thought nervously. She tried to pause and think it through, but her feet carried her onward with the flow of the other pedestrians. The sound of voices slowly grew louder.
The walk had seemed but a moment and now here she was. At The beginning of one of the largest street markets in all of the 13 colonies. The market had started early that morning and already it was a bustle with excitement. Vendors of all sorts had come out and the brilliant late morning sun shone gracefully down upon all. This was the first time she had been at the market without someone to accompany her. The crowds were growing steadily as she picked her way along the cobblestone road. “How shall I find something for him in all of this?” She felt small and out of place.
“Freshly baked breads,” roared a large imposing man, obviously proud of his goods. Mary shied away toward the other side of the broad street. She did so in such a hurry that she had to grab the front of her dress to keep from tripping on it. About half of the way across she stopped and dropped her dress, thinking how silly she must have looked. “Here I am running from a man who is just trying to sell food,” she chided herself, “ I am in the most beautiful dress of the colonies, and I am thinking about turning back from purchasing my husband a gift. After he has doubtlessly worked very hard to give this to me. I shant have it.” She stamped her foot with the thought. “I shall certainly find him something. These people don’t want to harm me. They just want me to purchase their wares. And why shant this be an adventure? Though I am no longer a little girl I can certainly enjoy myself. Eli wouldn’t want me to live in fear while he is away. Besides, we both have the Great Protector watching over us.” She took a deep breath and nodded firmly to herself.
The Baker caught her looking in his direction and gestured broadly with both his hands at the goods on display. She acknowledged him and moved on. The man bellowed again to all, “Freshly baked breads! You will not find better goods in all of Philadelphia
Mary smiled at the thought of trying to sell anything in a place like this. She much rather preferred the word of mouth business that she received with her embroidery work.
To her right stood a group of men gathered around a long table. There were two vendors manning it and they appeared to be selling watches. “Hmm,” she thought, “those are a little beyond our price range. Besides, my Eli is an amazing judge of time, whether it be day or night.”
Beside the watchmakers sat a young man on a wooden crate. His table, she thought, was imaginative at the least. It was made of a wooden plank supported by two barrels on each of its ends. The young man had three different types of dress shoes on display. He smiled at her confidently and held her gaze for a moment. “He looks a bit like Eli minus a few years and a mustache,” The young man glanced quickly down at his shoes on display. After ensuring they were positioned in a professional way he looked at Mary again and smiled again. She smiled back at him and walked on. She was glad that this was a broad street. Almost every vendor had a different approach to brining in clients. She, however, was more interested in the goods than the salesman.
To her left, after avoiding four young brothers peddling bulldog pups up and down the market, she saw a beautiful array of fur hats. All of them neatly hung in order on two parallel racks that extended outward into the street. Beckoning any and all to come in and look at them. Mary walked to a point where she could see in between the rows but did not go in herself. Inside the annually purchased stall sat a thin man whose shoulder length hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He wore no hat of his own but rather a thick black rich looking fur coat. “The way he’s reading that book, all curled up in the back corner, makes him look almost like a spider waiting patiently for his web to draw in some prey,” she thought curiously. For the man’s sharp eyes glanced up very often indeed to look for customers. “Hmm,” she began walking again, still holding her hand purse tightly with both hands, “I wonder if Eli would like a fur hat? Though I’m sure there is another fur salesman here besides this one.” She walked briskly onward until she could no longer see inside.
The next booth to catch her eye had a fine roof over it to keep its contents dry in the case of a rain. She approached it with wide eyes. Rolled up against all of the walls were beautifully colored rugs. One had a red diamond pattern, with each diamond bordered in black and a small black bordered white diamond in the center. The next rug was filled with multi hued greens and sweet auburn yellows in circular patterns. The next two were smaller rolls of a dingy grey color. They had a pair of black shoes on the bottom and upon following them up, past the many-buttoned, shirt Mary found that they were the tenant’s pants. Mary took a small step back, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t see you there.”
The man smiled and said, “That’s quite alright my dear. It is my sole purpose to make these rugs more eye-catching than myself.” He walked toward the side of the stall and squeezed by his long table. It to had many rugs resting atop it. “That is not to say however that I try to appear undignified myself.”
Mary smiled and laughed politely. The older gentleman wore a two-tailed dark blue jacket and a white powdered wig. “Well sir,” she nodded at him and then looked at more of his beautiful rugs, “I can truly say that you are a fine craftsman. Have you made all of these by hand?”
“Oh most thankfully not my dear. My wife and two daughters help me. We have a, how can I put it?” the man touched his lower lip with a white gloved hand, “Well we use what is similar to a very large loom.”
“I understand,” said Mary, “How much are they?”
“For a beautiful young woman such as yourself, and if I might say wearing such a fine olive dress, I would let you take it for 8 dollars.” He answered with a smile.
She smiled back happy that he had noticed her dress. “You have a silver tongue sir. Unfortunately I have come here today to find a gift for my husband.”
The man nodded, “I appreciate your dilemma. Would you offer his occupation?”
“He is a sailor on a merchant’s vessel.”
“Aha,” he raised a finger in triumph, “Seeing that he is a seaman, one might note that seamen are constantly walking on the wooden deck of a ship. If your house has a wooden floor what better gift than a rug. They are quite warming. Especially without wearing shoes.” The man added the last part as if it were a fine afterthought.
Mary stepped near to one of the rugs and touched it with her hand. She pulled her fingertips across each bump in the weave, “That is a fine point sir. But I still believe that there is something else here for him. And I have only just started to search.”
“Alright,” said he begrudgingly, “If you don’t want a rug I shall cease to be a salesman and become a market patron. One who knows every stall and vendor here.”
“Oh,” Mary blinked.
“Oh yes indeed. Now your husband is a seaman. Well I myself was a seaman once,” he smiled with a little self satisfaction, “And when I was able to come home. Not very often mind you. I enjoyed dressing up in a certain amount of finery, though we didn’t have much, and strolling with my wife down some of America
Mary raised her eyebrows. Remembering with glee Eli’s face when he was informed by his father that he absolutely must where a powdered wig for their wedding. Not an expression of pleasure for sure.
“Is their something funny about what I said my dear?” inquired the gentleman, slightly bemused.
“No I’m sorry,” replied Mary quickly, “It is just my husband does not have a fine opinion of such headdress.”
“Ah. Then at the very least, a fine hat.” The elderly man raised a hand and pointed several stalls down the street. “I would suggest the group of vendors a block and a half down the street, on the left. They specialize in hats. Most of them would look very smart on a man.”
Mary inclined her head to his arm’s direction. She nodded in affirmation to herself, “Thank-you ever so kindly sir.” She curtsied, “You have been the greatest of help.”
The man straightened up and smiled, “A fine pleasure my dear.”
Mary turned to find that three other women were coming in to look at the rugs. She skirted past them and headed back out into the eager, milling crowd. She now strolled more quickly as her goal was so near within reach. She paused only a moment to gaze in wonder at a beautiful booth full of elegant flowers. After taking in the sweet scent of the roses, she walked on. “I am glad to live so close to this wonderful market. I really am glad not to have gone home. Perhaps I shall come again if only to take in the beauty of this booth.”
Upon reaching her intended vendors she paused, many paces back, to search out an appropriate hat. These hats were arranged on racks just like the fur hats up the street but in a way that felt more open and welcoming. There were many to choose from. They varied from wide brimmed hats with single large feathers sticking out of the hatbands to hats with tall crowns. From triangular brimmed hats to women’s hats decked in flowers. The one that caught her gaze looked to be made of brown leather. It had a wide flat brim, with the left side pulled up to its crown and pinned there with a full white and grey feather.
“That would look perfect on my Eli,” thought Mary. She hesitated a moment but did not know why. Perhaps this was not the right gift. Perhaps it would be too expensive. “No,” she thought finally, “This is my gift to Eli.” She stepped boldly forward, an exciting feeling rested joyfully in her stomach, “Excuse me sir. How much for this hat?” she pointed it out from amongst the other neatly arrayed hats.
The man peered in the hat’s direction. After a moment of squinting he donned his spectacles, “Oh. That one is one dollar and ten penny coins.”
“I should like to purchase it,” said Mary.
“Very good,” said the man. Mary opened her handbag, took out the exact change, and with a snap closed it again. “Thank-you my lady, it’s yours.” The man shooed her away with a vague gesture in the hat’s direction.
Mary turned toward the hat, forgiving the salesman his poor manners. She picked it up and for a moment just looked at it. Then she ran her hand over the feather, “Yes,” she said aloud, “Thank-You.”
Dear Reader,
Hello. This is situation one of a three situation lesson. The point of this lesson was to show that authors can make a reader feel differently about a place by the circumstances that the characters find themselves in. In thenext two blogs you will find different characters in the same street market position. Hopefully you will feel get a different feel about the market from each story. If you did. I did my job well. If not then I didn't do so well. :) One of my main reasons for posting blogs is to get feedback on my written work. I hope that you enjoyed this project. If not that is okay to. If you seen something that you didn't like or did like please let me know by commenting in the provided area. I would like to know where you seen faults or strengths so that I can improve my writing.
As always I am thankful that you read this and hope that you do comment.
Sicerely,
Isaiah T. Silkwood
P.S. If you liked my stories let a friend know. Maybe they would enjoy it to. :)
P.P.S. I researched a little bit for this paper but the money values and other historical referances could be wrong. So don't quote my minds visualization of what a 17 hundred street market might be like.
No comments:
Post a Comment