Wintering Well

by Lea Wait

  Will was almost upright before he groaned. “My ankle. I’ve turned it badly. I don’t think I can stand.”

  The boy helped him down onto a cleaner part of the road. They both looked around for help, but despite all the wagons and animals in the street, at the moment they were the only two people in sight.

  “Do you know the shop of the cabinetmaker, Mr. Dann?” Will asked. “I was going there.”

  “It is just a few shops down.” The boy pointed at a sign hanging above a shop only about thirty feet from them. CABINETMAKING, it said in gold above a painting of a ladder-back chair. JOSHUA DANN. “Perhaps I can fetch someone from there to help you?”

  “Please,” Will said with a nod. “Anyone who could help get me off the street before I am stomped on by a yoke of oxen!”

  “Oh, yes, certainly! I’ll be sharp.” The boy took off, sprinting even faster than he had before. Will smiled despite the pain in his ankle and the embarrassment of sitting in the filthy street. Whoever this boy was, at least he was trying to rectify the damage he had caused. And he had not once said anything about Will’s leg or blamed him for falling or laughed at him.

  The boy was back quickly enough with a short, round, ruddy-faced man wearing a long apron. “Here, you see, I’ve brought someone,” he announced proudly. “This is Mr. Dann.”

  “You must be Will,” Mr. Dann said. Will nodded in confirmation. “Here, Paul, you lift him from the right side and I’ll take the left. Cross your hands … like so …” He demonstrated. “We’ll make a chair of our hands to carry Will down to my shop. Dr. Theobold is going to join us there, so he’ll take a look at that ankle.

  “You carry your crutch,” Mr. Dann said, handing it to Will. “Now … ready, Paul? Let us lift him up.”

  The cabinetmaker’s shop smelled of the dust of pine and maple and other woods, and of pungent varnish and oils. Despite the pain in his ankle, the filth on his clothes, and the embarrassment of being carried by two people he did not know, Will inhaled deeply. This shop had the familiar smell of his wood carvings multiplied many times. Mr. Dann and Paul set him down on a low stool near the door. Will ran his fingers over the inlay on the leg of the small table next to him. He looked up at Mr. Dann. “You made this?” he asked.

  Mr. Dann nodded. “I did.”

  “What wood is it?”

  “A dark mahogany inlaid with a lighter shade.”

  Will touched it gently. “It is beautiful. I have never seen anything like it.”

  “I learned to inlay mahogany where I apprenticed in Philadelphia. Several cabinetmakers there do fine work. Here there is little call for it. Inlay work takes expensive wood and many hours. People in Maine who can afford to pay for such work order furniture from Europe, or from New York or Philadelphia. Most of what I do is much simpler.” He gestured toward several pine chests and tables and a large wardrobe in the corner of his shop. “But when I have time, I try to craft a few pieces that are special.”

  “Are you going to be all right, then?” Paul looked from one to the other. “If there is no need for me at the moment, I really must find Roddy.”

  “Thank you—Paul—for everything,” Will said with a smile.

  “For knocking you down and keeping you from walking, you should say.” Paul reached out his hand. “My name is Paul North. My parents and I moved here from London last August. And I have a bad habit of moving too fast and not looking where I am going.”

  “I’m Will Ames from Woolwich. I am staying with my sister and her husband, Aaron Decker, on Middle Street.”

  “I must search out Roddy before he terrorizes all the sheep in Wiscasset.” Paul turned toward the door. “But I would like to come and see if you are all right. May I call on you, Will? Perhaps in a few days?”

  Will grinned. “Stop anytime. As long as you keep Roddy at a bit of a distance so I can stay upright.”

  “I shall. I promise.” Paul opened the door and dashed out.

  “A nice young fellow, but wherever he is, he is always on the verge of going somewhere else,” said Mr. Dann. “His father bought the lumberyard over on the point last year. They live a little north of town, past the old graveyard.”

  Before Will had a chance to ask anything more, the door opened again and Dr. Theobold appeared. He took in the situation at once.

  “Well, I see you arrived before me, Will, and I suspect in more dramatic fashion.”

  Will pulled his torn shirt closed. “I slipped a bit on the street. I’ve hurt my ankle.”

  Dr. Theobold got down on his knees, removed Will’s boot, and touched the ankle and foot gently. Will winced. “You’ve given that ankle a nasty twist, but it appears you have not broken anything, thank goodness. That would have put you in a difficult situation. But you will not be able to stand safely on that ankle for a few days.”

  Will’s face fell. “I hoped to be measured for my new leg.

  “I see no reason why you should not be! You are here and so are we. Joshua, can you take the measure of this young man’s leg while he is sitting down, or shall we stand him up?”

  “Leave him where he is for now while I get my rule,” Mr. Dann said. “When I am almost certain I have got the correct measurements, we can prop him up for a few moments while I check.”

  “Then, I will have my new leg soon!”

  “Only if you promise not to twist it as badly as you have this other one,” Dr. Theobold advised. He watched as the cabinetmaker measured the length of Will’s leg and foot, and of his stump, to ensure both legs would be the same height. “How long should it take for you to make Will’s leg?”

  “Close to two weeks,” Mr. Dann replied. “I am in the middle of several other jobs that need finishing up. This is the first leg I have made, and I consider it a personal challenge. I want to make sure it is done right.”

  “Craft the leg so the stump can fit down into it. There needs to be space for a leather lining and some padding so it does not rub too hard.”

  Mr. Dann nodded and took additional measurements.

  That night Will dreamed of a room full of mahogany wooden legs with inlays showing its blood vessels and nerves. The biggest leg stood in the center of the room like a pedestal. On it was a crystal vase of dark red roses.

  CHAPTER 16

  May 8, evening

  I should have insisted I go with Will this morning! Dr. Theobold half carried him back to the house today. His shirt that I had stitched so carefully was torn, he was filthy from the streets, and his ankle was swelling like a cow’s udder at milking time. Alice seemed little concerned after we were assured his ankle was not broken; the muscles have just been bruised. But for now Will cannot get to the second floor of the house, and I have spent the better part of today cleaning his clothes and carrying his bedding down to the kitchen to make a place for him there until his ankle is stronger. I think I should also sleep downstairs, in case he has need of me in the night, but Alice says I need not. Will is so full of stories of some boy from London who knocked him down, and a cabinetmaker’s shop full of furniture, that he hardly seems to notice his ankle. Thank goodness I am here to make sure someone cares for him. He certainly has not done well caring for himself thus far. If Pa were to know, he’d be taking us both back to Woolwich right quick. And he’d be just to do so. Perhaps Alice is correct: All men need a woman to watch out for them. Although if that is so, then who watches out for women, other than God?

  “Cassie, Will is doing fine. He has his wood if he wants to carve, and he has a book to read. He has no need for anything else right now. You and I could walk down by the wharves and breathe some fresh air.” Alice paced restlessly as Cassie put a pitcher of water next to Will’s pallet on the floor. Will ignored them both.

  “Will, I left you some more water, in case you should be thirsty.”

  Will nodded.

  “Is the book that good?” Cassie asked. Paul had been bringing Will books to keep him amused while his ankle healed. He had brought this latest one just last night
.

  Will looked up. “After I finish, you must read it too, Cassie! Washington Irving has written a wonderful story about a man who falls asleep for twenty years.”

  “The way you have been sleeping recently, that could be you,” Cassie countered. “I know you are to rest your ankle, but the doctor did not tell you to sleep all the time!”

  “It must be the river air.” Will grinned at her. He didn’t mention the candles Aaron had been bringing him each night so he could continue reading long after the others had gone to sleep. “You go and walk with Alice. I’ll be fine here, and you have not been out since I hurt my ankle.”

  “I am waiting to see Wiscasset with you.”

  “Well, go with Alice and enjoy it for yourself. The doctor told Alice she should be walking more since the baby quickened.” Alice had shared the excitement of feeling the baby’s first movements and since that moment had put thoughts of her child ahead of all else. Will turned back to his book.

  Cassie sat down next to him. “How can you sit so quietly for hours? Last year at this time you were helping Pa shear the sheep or planting corn and beans. You rarely rested.”

  Will looked at her. “That was last year, Cassie.”

  They both thought of the farm chores Will could no longer do. Will broke the silence. “And a year ago Ma was always looking to see where you had hidden so you could avoid helping her ready the house for summer.”

  Cassie made a face back at him. That had been when she was a little girl. Life had changed for both of them since last year.

  Alice sighed. “Will is teasing, Cassie. But if you’ll not leave the house, then at least let us bake some extra bread. It will save us time tomorrow morning.”

  Cassie went over to the cupboard to get the large wooden dough bowl. As she walked back to the table, she paused at the back door to look at the lupine beginning to bloom in the yard. “Alice, do you ever miss the fields and the farm?”

  “Sometimes. When I see the flowers here and remember the fields of wildflowers near home. And when the smells and sounds of the streets remind me how quiet it seemed on the farm. But Aaron and I have a good life. I knew when I married that my life would be different from Ma’s. Aaron has always lived in town and doesn’t know country life. But he is a fine man. I knew that from the first time I met him at his cousin’s barn raising.” The color rose in Alice’s face, as though she were remembering.

  “At home life was simple,” Cassie said. “Everything we needed was right there, and everyone knew what they had to do to keep the farm going.” She reached deep into the wooden flour bin. “At home going to services on Sunday was the only regular time to see people. Here men, and even women, sail to Portland or Boston with hardly a thought. And there are laces and spices and books and perfumes in John Stacy’s store that I could never have imagined. Possibilities for what a person could do in life seem limitless here.”

  “Like the books Paul has brought from the Social Library for Will to read. We had no books like that at home.” Alice looked down at her belly. “My son or daughter will be able to read books and hear music and know about more things than the cycles of the moon and the harvest. Who knows where life may take this child?”

  Cassie put the flour into the bowl and turned to get the salt. She looked out the door again and went out into the yard. In a minute she was back, carefully holding three long-stemmed white balls of feathery dandelion seeds. “Remember when we were little?” she said as she handed one to Alice and one to Will. “We used to say that if we could blow all the seeds into the air with one breath, then our wish would come true.”

  “I haven’t done that in years,” Alice said. She carefully put a linen cloth over the mixing bowl, took a deep breath, and blew the white seeds all over the kitchen. “Now your turn. But you have to sweep up after!”

  Cassie closed her eyes and then opened them and blew as hard as she could. She turned to Will. “You now, Will.”

  Will looked up from his book. He, too, blew dandelion seeds all over the kitchen. “What did you wish for, Alice?”

  “That my baby be well born and my birthing easy. That is really two wishes, but there were a lot of seeds on that dandelion!”

  Cassie laughed.

  “And your wish, Cassie?”

  “I wished to know my purpose in life,” Cassie said.

  Alice looked at her. “But you do know it! Like the purpose of every woman, yours is to marry and care for your husband and children, and ensure that your home is filled with love and faith and caring. And that is a purpose easier to say than to accomplish.”

  “But sometimes I feel caring for one family will not be enough. I want to do more!”

  Alice laughed. “Someday you will find caring for one family will take every hour of your every day, Cassie. There is no time for a woman to do more than that. What did you wish for, Will?”

  “I wished you would both leave me alone so I could finish this book!”

  CHAPTER 17

  May 21

  Tomorrow Will is to get his new leg. His ankle is better, though still weak. Dr. Theobold will come for him in the morning. I wish I could be there when they fit the leg. I am curious about how it shall work, and I hope it enables Will to walk as well as he is confident it will. I have had no dreams in the past days except of pails of sand and soapy water. Alice’s work in Wiscasset is the same as Ma’s in Woolwich. We have been scouring the walls and floors, washing bedding, and cleaning the pantry of winter supplies. Soon enough it will be time to start replacing those foodstuffs for next winter. The work it takes to keep a house in order seems one unending circle of sameness. I wonder if I shall be back at home by winter, or whether perhaps I could stay here ? Ma will have Martha to help her by then, and Alice will need assistance after her baby is born. Alice says the Wiscasset census counted more than two thousand people. With so many people, surely both Will and I can find places to be of use. If I have to scrub floors, then perhaps at least I could scrub floors to be walked on by people with different ideas, who have traveled to different places.

  The leg was made of pine, and it did not look as Will had hoped. “It isn’t shaped like a leg,” he pointed out quietly.

  “No. But it is shaped to support you.” Dr. Theobold pointed to the bottom of the leg, which was at a right angle to the vertical piece. “This piece is made to fit into a boot; perhaps a little wider than the boot you are wearing on your right foot, but a shoemaker can easily make up the difference.”

  “But it is not as long as my foot,” Will pointed out. In fact, the pine foot was only a few inches long.

  “No.” Mr. Dann came over and pointed. “But on a real leg your ankle and knee joints allow you to move your foot up and down. They make your gait regular and enable you to go up hills or climb steps. With an artificial leg there is no way to control joints, so there are none. If I were to make the foot longer, it would get in your way, since it will always be in the same position.”

  Will nodded slowly. He hadn’t thought of that.

  Dr. Theobold put his hand on Will’s shoulder. “You will have to learn to use it, just as when you were a baby you learned to walk. Let’s see if the bucket top Mr. Dann has made will fit you well.”

  As Will took down his trousers, the carving he had been working on fell out of his pocket. Mr. Dann picked it up.

  “Is this your work, Will?”

  “I was trying to carve my sister Alice’s face. It is a rough attempt.” Will reached for the piece of wood.

  “Do you do much carving?”

  “I like to whittle. I made dozens of animals for my little brother last winter. Working with wood helps pass the time. But this is the first face I’ve attempted.”

  Mr. Dann took the little carving closer to the store window. “You have an excellent sense of the wood; you have captured the movement of your sister’s hair.” He turned back. “You have a talent, Will. Have you thought of learning woodworking?”

  “The whittling is just to amu
se myself. Most farm boys whittle.”

  “But most farm boys do not have your hand or your eye. Have you seen this work, Doctor?”

  “No,” said Dr. Theobold, taking the carving from Mr. Dann and examining it. “But I can see what you mean. Clearly the boy knows how to handle a knife.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Will reached out for the carving. “The face is not yet finished.” He sat awkwardly on the edge of the chair. He hoped no one would walk into the shop while he was wearing only his short summer drawers. “Nor has my leg been fitted.”

  “Then, we will indeed return to the task at hand,” said Mr. Dann, smiling.

  Mr. Dann had made a deep carving in the top of the pine leg, like a cutout for a pegged beam in a barn. But the peg that was to go in this opening was Will’s stump. Will supported himself on Dr. Theobold’s shoulder and carefully fit his body into the leg. Although the pocket had been lined with soft brown moose leather, the leg still rubbed.

  “There is no avoiding that,” said the doctor as he looked carefully at the stump and leg. “We can add a little linen to the bucket.” That was softer, but only a little.

  Will quickly identified another problem the men were too discreet to point out: Even his shortest summer drawers were too long to be worn with this leg. The drawers got caught between his stump and the wooden bucket on the top of the leg. Cassie would have to make him another pair, with a shorter left leg.

  “You need to have control of the leg, so the fit needs to be close. If we allow too much space for padding, then the leg will not be tight. On the other hand, if it is too tight, it will chafe and you will get blisters and sores on your stump, as if you were wearing shoes that were too tight.”

  Will moved a little in the bucket. “Maybe it will be all right once I get used to it.”

  “Your stump will have to become callused, like the bottom of a foot worn without shoes in summer becomes hardened,” Dr. Theobold explained.

  Will thought suddenly of how it felt to wiggle his toes in mud or to feel summer sun warming his whole body. He would never feel those things again. Despite his blinking, his eyes filled with tears.