1/26/12
Isaiah T. Silkwood
Writing Strands Level # 7, Lesson # 6, Situation # 3
What Makes It What It Is:
A Market for Bees
(Excerpt from the journal of Richard Canterhaven)
It is Tuesday morning, July 7th 1770. People are beginning their congregation on N. Kings Way . These people are not the swarm of bees that will come thickly through to snatch up nectar later on today. These people are the stems of the flowers that support this meadow that is King’s Way Street Market. They are carefully arranging the petals of their flowers. That is, the appearance of their booth that they purchased earlier this year. They are hoping that their decorations and colors will appeal to any passing bees and draw them in to sample the nectar that is their hard wrought merchandise.
I too am a stem. Though I am a smaller offshoot of the main stem my master Marice Vaughn. I am his apprentice. I have been growing under his shadow for 2 years now. If I might say modestly I have become a very good shoemaker. It is good that I am telling this to my journal. For if my mother was to find me upholding my own work like this, she would give me a stern scolding. “Do the best that you can and let others praise your work,” she would say. I am sure there is a great deal of wisdom in her words. She was the best embroiderer in all of Philadelphia
It is now Tuesday afternoon of the previous date. I was called to help Master Vaughn. We finished setting up our booth and put out our beautiful array of polished leather shoes. We have so many it is often hard to select the best to put up. Master Vaughn is very particular in how each pair is displayed. I watch him as carefully as I can. Taking in the good and weeding out the bad. He has been a shoemaker for the past 30 years and has been very successful. This falls against the norm for most shoemakers in our time. Needless to say there is not much bad in the way of his business practices.
I am allowed to run the booth from 9 a.m. until 12 p.m. and from 8 p.m. until sunset. There are less active bees seeking nectar at these times. I am often watched carefully from the back, but this morning I was given the chance to sell without Master Vaughn’s supervision. He told me that he had an errand that needed seen to back at his house.
I felt very nervous to be trusted with our stall. I also intended to sell a fair amount of product. It is difficult to prove myself to Master Vaughn. Today I intended to practice a few techniques that I have been too afraid to employ under his supervision. I learned them from observing other salesman in the marketplace.
The first bee that entered our flower was one of Master Vaughn’s old clients. He was a wealthy watchmaker and had only stopped by to talk with Master Vaughn. Upon seeing me he asked who I was. This is typical with most of Master Vaughn’s wealthier clients. They tend not to notice Master Vaughn’s apprentice. Who is usually in the same room, working on the same shoes, and learning the same techniques that Master Vaughn has used for the past 30 years. I feel a pressure to perform perfectly to earn their respect.
I had never felt that at home around my father. He had always accepted me at face value and loved me in the same manner whether I had done wrong or done right. I never had to earn his love. He used to say that GOD loved me with an unconditional love. And that GOD loved all that way. It is funny that, that thought would come to my mind now. After I have been so long away from my family. For, I am only able to see them every other weekend. This is on account that I am apprenticing so far away. Master Vaughn says that I am like a son to him. But it is not the same. Here I am writing about the past again. I had intended to write about today.
After Mr. Wright had departed I pondered on how to draw people in. Each person was a potential client. However, I knew from personal experience that I didn’t like a salesperson that constantly smiles and won’t take his eyes off of you once you have looked at him. Two vendors across the way, one of whom sold fish and the other a goldsmith, employed that tactic. In fact the fish salesman turned his needy smile my direction during a quite moment of little traffic. I ignored him and turned my attention to the sole man coming down King’s Way at that time. This was still very early in the morning. I tried not to look directly at him but did my best to appear alert. When he turned his gaze on my booth I waited a second and then nodded his direction in acknowledgement of his presence. I had intended to hold his gaze for but a moment and then to turn my eyes away. In this I had hoped to set myself apart from the other salesmen. I also hoped to imply that my making a sale with him would not make or break my day. Despite my intentions he held my gaze and hobbled toward me. As he came closer I recognized him as another client of Master Vaughn.
His name was Alexander Smith. He was an old man who lived quite a distance away from here, near my Mother’s house. He seemed to enjoy walking more
than any other part of life and as a result was a regular customer of Master Vaughn. In his left arm he carried a round parcel that sounded as if it contained a liquid. I recognized the stamp on the side to be a Hugoe’s Rum stamp. Mr. Smith had always taken an interest in everything that was in Master Vaughn’s shop and I was no exception. Every time that he came by to get a new pair of shoes he would sit in our chair and try on many different pairs while asking me questions about all that I had been doing. My answers were often greeted by “Wonderful” or “What joyous news.” Then he would decide on the same pair of shoes that he chosen the time before and part with the words, “May our Good Lord prosper you today young Mr. Canterhaven.”
After I spent half an hour with him today, he departed with these words, “I must be off. The market is starting to fill and I am sure you need to make some sales. I will return again when things are less busy.” As he walked away I heard his words fade slowly into th
e general conversations and beckoning calls of the marketplace, “May the Hand of Providence prosper you today young Mr. Canterhaven.” He has been a kind ear over these past two years.
The meadow indeed had drawn many bees. I took up my tactic of nodding in acknowledgement but not reaching blindly for a customer where one did not exist. When men and women came in to look at the wide selection of shoes I tried to narrow down their options to only a few different pairs. I have noticed that many of the booths, that I observe, sell more products when they display fewer options. Somehow the sheer volume of options bogs down a customer’s ability to choose just one item to purchase. At that point, more often that not, they choose to purchase nothing at all.
The next two hours went by unsuccessfully and the time was nearing 12. I expected Master Vaughn back at any moment. I was about to count today’s efforts a failure. All around me I could see merchants selling breads, flowers, jewelry, and dresses. Even silverware sets from as far away as England
Presently my thoughts were interrupted by a lady’s smile. Apparently I had been smiling genuinely for the first time and someone had noticed. She wore a whi
te bonnet and dress. She also wore a pair of white leather shoes which appeared to be well worn. “Good morning Madam,” I said as she came within earshot. “Is their anything that I might do for you today?”
“Oh yes indeed,” she said, “I am looking for a pair of white shoes that are comfortable. I have been up and down this entire market and am still unable to find such a pair.” She took a hand fan out of her purse and began to wave it as if the inability to find white shoes had wearied her greatly.
I found her actions amusing and therefore smiled, “I just so happen to have two variants in white leather Madam.”
“Very well, and you may call me Miss,” she said this as if she were proud not to be married.
“My apologies Miss,” I said while rounding the table with a few sizes of each variant in one hand and a broad stool in the other. I set the stool down behind
her and put the shoes down before her. She thanked me and sat gingerly upon the stool.
Upon noticing a shoehorn in my hand she said, “Do you think that my feet are fat?” I was baffled for a moment. Then she said, “You have a shoe horn in your hand.”
“Oh no not at all. Many people like to use a shoe horn just out of convenience.” I felt my face turn red.
“Oh,” she replied and began to take her first shoe off. She did no more than unbuckle each foot and then looked at me and said, “Would you finish. Normally one of my father’s servants does this for me.”
I knelt down, “Normally my master expects me to do this for all of our customers,”
“Oh,” she replied again.
After she had selected the variant she liked most I measured her right foot and put the correct size on. I stood up and offered her my hand while sayin
g, “Would you like to test their comfort?” She smiled and allowed me to help her up.
I stood back and clasped my hands behind my back. She took a considerable amount of time to test their comfort. At one point she walked out of the booth and down King’s Way. I watched her for some ways and almost decided to go after her to remind her that she had not yet paid for them. Then she turned around and came back. Upon returning she said, “Who made these shoes? Your master or you?”
“I did.” I replied
She paused for an instant and then said, “You knew what you were doing. I would like to purchase the pair.”
I smiled only a little outwardly but greatly inwardly. I gave her the price and she pulled the proper amount out of her purse. As she handed me the money
she said, “I shall undoubtedly return when these have seen their use.” She smiled, curtsied, and once I had returned the smile, she turned back out on to King’s Way Street Market.
Though our flower had only attracted one new bee under my care, I was very happy. I had learned that no matter how much I wanted to draw in the whole multitude of bees, I could do better in such a beautiful meadow to be patient. To trust that I had done what I could and the rest is up to the Great Gardener who tends to all meadows and flowers.
Hello. This is situation three of a three situatio
n 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 the two previous blogs you will find different characters in the same 17 hundreds street market setting. Hopefully you will 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. J One of the main reasons that I post these blogs is to get feedback on my written work. I hope that you enjoyed this project. If not that is okay to. If you saw something that you didn't like or did like please let me know by comment
ing in the provided area. I would like to know where you see faults or strengths. That way I can try to 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. J
P.P.S. I only researched a little bit for this paper. The way I envision how the markets lay and what types of booths are present are created through imagnation and help from GOD.
Copyright Isaiah T. Silkwood 2/27/11
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