“Excuse me, suh’,” he said. “Mah name is Sam, an mah aunt says you was wantin’ to talk with me.”
“Yes, I do Sam. Pleased to meet you,” Blake said extending his hand. “I’m Blake Thorton and this here is Caleb.”
Sam very hesitantly shook his hand and did the same for Caleb. “Mah aunt was sayin’ yo’ might be havin’ some work fo’ me.”
“Are you a decent carpenter?”
“Ah reckon I is, never had no house I built fall down, an no roof leaked, neither,” Sam said proudly.
Blake smiled. “Sounds good. Let me show you something to see what you think.” Blake showed Sam the cracked beam and how the roof was sagging. “How would you fix this?”
Sam looked at the whole thing scratching his head, and then he climbed up on one of the benches to check closer to the roof. Jumping down he wiped his hands on his pants. Still looking up at the beam he said, “Ah would build me a brand new beam next ta’ the old one. Th’ trick is jackin’ up the roof till she’s right. Then puts a support on the new one.”
“What size beam do you think I should use?” Blake asked.
“Th’ old one looks to be a six by six, but this being a forge an you be hangin’ stuff from there, ah would use twelve by twelve oak fo’ shu’.”
Blake was impressed; Sam seemed to have a good grasp on the work and how to go about it. “I’ve made a list of the wood I’ll need. Do you have this on hand at the mill?”
“Yes suh,” Sam said looking at the list. “All but the oak. Boss’ll have to cut the logs to size. Maybe take a day or two.”
“That’s fine,” Blake said. “Give him the list and I’ll come over and square up with him later.”
“Is this what yo’ want me workin’ on? Cause ah works at the yard all day.”
“I might need some help if you’re willing at night, but I really want you to fix up your aunt’s room at my house. It needs new siding outside and the roof fixed, also the walls plastered inside and a parlor stove put in. I want everything painted, too.” Blake said. “I’ll pay you fifty dollars and I’ll buy the materials. You can work in your spare time.”
“Them’s white man wages, suh,” Sam said very sheepishly.
“The color of a man’s skin doesn’t concern me,” Blake said firmly. “What I care about is the type of job he does. Are you a family man?”
“Yes suh, gots me a wife, Marie, and two little ones, Rachel and Lil’ Sam.”
“Then take it for them and make them proud. How does that suit you?”
Sam smiled broadly, grabbed Blake’s hand and shook it vigorously, “Rights down to th’ ground, suh, rights down to th’ ground.”
“When can you start?”
“When’s I gets done at th’ mill tonight.”
“Great,” Blake said reaching in his pocket. “Here’s fifty dollars, twenty five for materials, and twenty five for you to get started. When you need more, come see me.”
“Yes suh, an’ thank yo’, suh. Ah’s got to be getting’ back now.” Sam pocketed the money and ran out of the forge.
******
Blake and Caleb spent a few hours cleaning the forge and preparing to replace the beams. Blake found a couple of wagon jacks that might work to lift he roof but they were short and he might have to do it in multiple stages. They found several block and pulley sets that would come in handy, along with the tools to cut the wood. Sadie brought some sandwiches and lemonade for lunch and Blake told her about meeting her nephew. “Seems like a nice man,” he said.
“He’s got hisself a big heart, he does. Works real hard, too,” she said proudly.
After lunch Blake had Caleb show him where the lumber yard was. As they walked up to a building where the office sign hung Blake noticed an enormous pile of machinery parts and tools that needed repair. Blake pointed at it and told Caleb, “There’s some work for us.”
They entered the door under the office sign and saw a tough looking man covered in sawdust drinking coffee and eating a sandwich. “This your mill?” Blake asked.
“Yup,” the man said putting the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.
“Name’s Blake Thorton. I had your man Sam bring you a list of wood I’ll be needing.”
The man gave Blake a sour look, “Yeah, I got it, might take a while for them beams, though.”
Blake looked out a window in the back and saw a pile of oak logs that would work fine. “Why’s that?” he asked.
The man stood and wiped his hands on his shirt. “Because I ain’t in no particular hurry for a man who pays a nigger a white man’s wages,” he stated crossing his arms.
“He seems like a good man to me,” Blake said stiffening.
“He is. It’s just I know white men who could use the work.”
“He came recommended,” Blake said firmly.
“I bet he did. He works hard, never late, never drunk, has yet to piss me off,” he said taking out a plug of tobacco and biting a chunk off. “But friend, he’s black. That means he gets niggers wages, pure and simple.”
“So you pay more to a man who is late, drunk, and pisses you off?”
“When I can get those son-of-a-bitches to show up,” he grumbled and spit a stream into the cuspidor near his desk.
“Well I guess that makes sense somewhere,” Blake said. “Did Sam tell you what I wanted the lumber for?”
“Nope.”
“I’m opening the blacksmith shop but I need to fix the building first.”
“Really,” he said lightening his tone. “We sure can use you.”
“Yup,” said Blake as he now crossed his arms. “And looking at that heap of broken tools out there we may be doing some business. I’ll keep that in mind after I see how long it takes for you to get me my lumber.”
“Well, horseshit,” he said sitting on the corner of his desk. “I’ll have it to you Monday afternoon, Tuesday morning at the latest.” He stood and held out his hand, “Al Conner is the name.”
Blake shook his hand. “Pleasure.”
******
Blake spent the rest of the day teaching Caleb about the forge. They moved the small forge outside with the anvil. Blake showed him the different types of coal and how to start a fire in the pot. Caleb learned quickly, but what was more, he wanted to learn. He wanted to know the name of every tool and how to use it. The only time he frowned was when Blake would tell him that a tool was advanced and he needed to learn the basics first. Blake had him turning the blower for the forge and he seemed bored until he made a mistake and burned off a piece of metal because it was too hot. “A smith is only as good as his fire,” Blake told him. “There is a real knack to getting a fire just right and keeping it there. The fire is alive, a living breathing thing that needs care and constant watching.”
When he got better at tending the fire, Blake had him start forging nails. “This is how everybody starts, must of made a thousand nails for my father before he let me move on to other things.” Blake taught him how to draw out metal to a point, how to cut it off using the hardy, and how to put a proper head on the nail.
“T-there’s a-a lot t-to l-l-learn,” said Caleb as he quenched a nail.
“Yup, there is and it’s going to be like today, everyday for a long time. You still want to do this?”
“Hell, yes,” Caleb said smiling.
Blake checked his watch. “Getting pretty close to suppertime. Why don’t we let the forge cool and clean everything up. We don’t want Sadie mad because we’re late.” When they were done and headed home Satan appeared in back of them following close behind.
“That stupid dog is going to get himself shot,” Blake laughed.
“S-she w-wouldn’t,” a genuinely scared Caleb said.
“She might.”
As they came around the back of the house they found Sam hard at work removing clapboards on Sadie’s room. Satan started barking furiously at him and he stopped.
“Call S
atan off,” Blake told Caleb, who promptly whistled and tapped his leg. “How’s it going, Sam? Join us for supper?”
“No suh, ah’s need the light to work, if’n you don’ mind none,” Sam said. Then pointing his hammer at Satan. “Is that there th’ cur dog Aunt Sadie was tellin’ me ‘bout?”
“That sho’ is,” Sadie piped up from behind the screen door. Satan barked once at her and wagged his tail. She came out and handed Blake and Caleb towels. “You two get cleaned up over at the pump. I’ll get yo’ supper on the table. Yo’ dog, can eat outside.”
They took the towels and headed for the pump, unbuttoning their shirts. Blake removed his and heard Caleb whistle and say, “W-what t-the hell.”
Blake had forgotten about his tattoo, which covered a vast majority of his upper body. It started just above his elbows, went over his shoulders covering his chest and back all the way down to just above his knees. It was a great swirling pattern with lines and dots that accentuated his muscles and physique. He looked at Caleb’s bugging eyes and said, “What’s the matter? Never seen a tattoo before?” he asked, pumping the handle as water poured into the bucket. Splashing some on his face and arms he looked back at Caleb who just stood there and stared. “Best get cleaned up, son.” He flicked some water in face to bring him around.
Caleb blinked his eyes and stammered, “Y-y-yes sir.”
Sadie came to the back door, “Come and get…..” her voice trailed off when she saw Blake, “Good Lawd, Almighty,” she said coming out the door towards Blake. Her eyes were wide as she approached him. Blake started to put his shirt on but she stopped him. “Sammy comes here,” she called over her shoulder. “Lawd, I never…” whispering to herself as she traced a line on Blake’s arm with her finger.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said when he got near her.
“Yo’ see these here marks?” Sam nodded. “Yo’ Granpappy tol’ me ‘bout men with these here marks over in Africa where he was from. Only th’ greatest warriors get them. I knowed yo’ was sumptin different, but this here places yo’ high above most men, fo’ shu’.”
Blake shrugged on his shirt, “No ma’am, I’m like everybody else.”
“Oh shu’ yo’ is,” Sadie laughed.
“Let’s eat,” he said rolling his eyes.
Chapter 8
Dinner was meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. Fresh baked bread and collard greens with apple pie for dessert. When they sat down Caleb kept asking Blake to tell the story of the tattoo. Finally relenting, Blake started. He had left home the day after his sixteenth birthday. He had been born in Duanesburgh, which was in upstate New York. He followed the Schoharie Creek to the Mohawk River. From there he made it to the Hudson River down to New York City. The journey had taken much longer than he thought and he was almost out of money and starving. He slept in alleys near the docks and stole food where he could until he heard two drunken sailors talking about a merchant ship bound for China around Cape Horn. Blake knew that they would be heading through the South Pacific and that was his dream. He found the ship and tried to get hired on but the first mate had him thrown off because he had no sailing experience. Not daunted, he stowed away on it but was soon discovered after leaving port. When he was presented to the captain he took pity on him and let him stay aboard. At first he was treated harshly but soon proved his worth and became a fair seaman. Several months later found him rounding Cape Horn in some of the worst seas imaginable. The ship’s blacksmith along with many others were washed overboard while cutting away torn sails. The ship had been badly damaged and was in need of repairs. Blake took on the duties of blacksmith because of his experience. After limping the ship into a port on the coast of South America the crew spent months repairing and refitting the ship so it could continue on. Blake was becoming a respected member of the crew, despite his age, almost nineteen. He could handle himself as well as any man on board.
Once again he was bound for China. Three months after leaving South America his ship was set upon by pirates. Blake was working in the forge when the ship was attacked. It was a bloody battle and many of Blake’s shipmates were killed. They were no match for the vicious pirates and the remainder were taken prisoner. When the captain of the pirates saw the leather apron on Blake he ordered Blake to be brought aboard his ship. Once again being a blacksmith would save his life. All his tools were brought aboard and he was forced to make repairs to the ship and their weapons. He was treated badly, kept in chains when he wasn’t working and fed small amounts of food, barely enough to keep him alive.
For roughly a year he endured life aboard the pirate’s vessel. He longed for home and the peace that came with it. His fortune came in the form of a typhoon. The ship was not in great condition and could not withstand the pummeling of the hurricane force winds. The captain spotted an island and prayed for a safe cove to take shelter in but the ship collided with a reef and was torn apart. Blake somehow managed to float ashore on a piece of wreckage and awoke to bright sun shining on his face. Straining to open his salt crusted eyes he could see the island. Getting to his very shaky knees he could see shapes moving in the trees above the shoreline. Just when he started to stand a stone tipped spear stuck in the sand at his feet. Exhaustion overtook him and he passed out.
He woke sometime later inside a wood and grass structure, a bitter tasting liquid was being poured into his mouth by a beautiful native woman. She had long black hair and golden suntanned skin. Naked from the waist up, she was a sight to behold. Blake tried to rise but she held him back gently and smiled. There were leaf wrapped poultices on his wrists and ankles where the chains had chaffed him. His clothes were gone, an animal hide loincloth was all he had on. He fell back into a peaceful sleep and awoke the next day. Feeling much stronger he stood and went outside. There seemed to be an argument among the men, most of who were a fierce looking bunch, many of them tattooed heavily with bones decorating their ears and hair. The arguing stopped when they saw him. A large older man with a large bone necklace approached him. It took all of Blake’s nerve not to run but he stood his ground. The man’s eyes were piercing and the look in them was not at all friendly. He gestured toward the beach and grunted. Blake was unsure of what he wanted and headed for the beach followed by several of the warriors. When he got there the captain of the pirate ship was tied to a cross in the sand along with one other of the pirates. The captain was in rough condition but perked up when he saw Blake.
“Boy,” he said in a raspy voice, “cut me loose and we’ll send all these devils to hell.”
The large warrior with a bone necklace walked past Blake and picked a large piece of wreckage with a chain hanging from it. On the end of the chain was a shackle that was used to secure Blake when he was not working. Then he took the shackle and placed it on Blake’s wrist and grunted. Blake nodded his head and said, “Yes.” The warrior seemed to understand, and then he knelt down and placed it on his ankle and grunted. Again Blake said, “Yes.”
He stood and pointed at the captain, grunting again and then placing the shackle back on Blake’s wrist. Blake knew that he figured out that he had been a prisoner. Blake hardened his jaw and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Yes.”
The big warrior turned to the others and spoke loudly and clearly, when he was finished the others talked among themselves and then started to chant. The big warrior turned to Blake and handed him his spear. Blake took it and turned to the captain, and, as he slowly walked toward him, he saw the fear in his eyes.
“Now don’t be hasty lad. We can get clear of this we can,” he pleaded.
“Yeah, yeah c’mon boy we can take ‘em,” the other pirate said.
Blake turned back to the warrior chief, looking straight at him he raised the spear up and stuck it in the ground. The chanting stopped immediately. The chief’s eyes burned at Blake. Blake turned and faced the pirates.
“There’s a good lad, now cut me loose.”
Blake reached down and drew the captain’s heavy cu
tlass from his belt.
“Burn in hell, you bastard.” Then he raised the sword up and brought it down deep into his neck. Horrified, the other pirate started screaming and Blake brought it down squarely on his forehead. Blood sprayed in great fountains from their wounds and Blake watched as the life left their eyes. Blake was covered with blood spray and the sword dripped with gore. He felt no remorse, he felt only that these men needed to die and he escorted them to hell. Turning back to the chief he walked back slowly and knelt in front of him and presented the sword in both hands. The chief took the sword from him and raised it high above his head. He turned to the rest of the tribe and screamed loudly. The rest joined in and led Blake back to the village.
******
Blake’s strength returned rapidly. He was fed regularly and, when he was ready, they taught him to hunt and fish to help carry his weight with the tribe. A high cliff ran along one side of the cove where he washed up after the wreck. He went hunting up there and looked down in the water. He could see an outline of a ship submerged about a hundred feet from the base of the cliff. It appeared to be only ten feet below the surface. It had to be the pirate’s ship he was on, and he would make it a point to see if he could salvage anything from it.
Blake started to make his way back to the village when he spotted black flecks far out in the ocean. He watched for a while and as they got closer he could see they were actually six out-rigger canoes with ten men in each one. Blake ran as fast as he could to tell the men in the village of the boats. He had learned only a few words of their language and managed get through to one of the warriors what he saw. The warrior started yelling and suddenly the village exploded into chaos. Women grabbed children and ran for the jungle. Any man that was able took up weapons and ran for the beach. There were forty or fifty in all, carrying knives, clubs, axes and spears all made from stone. The only metal weapon was the sword Blake had given the chief. As the boats drew nearer Blake could see a human skull mounted on the bow of each canoe, with angry looking warriors paddling with all their strength.
The Blacksmith Page 8