on his right. The middle button on the other arm was moved to take the place of the third button down on the front of his shirt. You can tell because it’s slightly smaller than the rest.”
Elder Dan put one hand over his right sleeve. Hanich worked to keep a serious visage to his face. His possible employer had noticed the buttons first and had used it as a test. Mr. Scrimm showed no reaction whatsoever, and even more, he was not quite finished. He walked around the desk and sat down before he asked his next question.
“If you have a cricket in your room, what do you do?”
Hanich had never heard of such a question being given as a test of employment, and considered for a moment. He was not sure what was required of him, so he was forced to answer the question with honesty.
“Crickets are good luck sir,” Hanich said. “But if he insists on making his noise while I attempt to sleep, I would be obligated to catch him and put him outside.”
Mr. Scrimm allowed himself the barest edge of a smile.
“I guess he will do,” Mr. Scrimm said. “But I will send him home the first time he abuses his time, or takes anything not belonging to him.”
Elder Dan seemed pleased. He offered his hand to Hanich, who shook it hesitantly.
“I’ve brought you to the door young man,” Elder Dan said. “Whether you get to stay is on your shoulders. Put your heart into your work. Also, your mother would prefer to see you attend the meeting on as many Sundays as you can manage.”
“I will do my best Elder Dan,” Hanich said.
After collecting his fee Elder Dan departed, leaving Hanich standing in front of the desk where Mr. Scrimm sat. There was silence in the Kitchen for the whole of a minute.
Mr. Scrimm looked up.
“We help people here, people who need it,” Mr. Scrimm said. “No one is less of a person because they need help. If you are accustomed to looking down on people who have less than you, I will not require your services.”
“That will not be a problem sir,” Hanich said.
“I do not have an extra room for you,” Mr. Scrimm said. “But there is a nook on the other side of the fire where you can keep your things and sleep. This is Mira, she will find you a bedroll. You should change out of your wet clothes before you get to work.”
Behind Mr. Scrimm a girl stepped forward. Hanich would not have known whether she had been in the shadows the whole time, or if she had just arrived. She was slightly taller than he, and thin with dark hair straight down to her shoulders. Her left cheek was porcelain, as if someone had put a patch to cover her face from chin to cheekbone. It sparkled in the lamp on the desk.
“Follow me,” she said softly, and put her head down as she led him down the hall into the main room and then to the other side of the fireplace.
The girl was wearing a modest dress, the flax colored cloth was adorned with blue flowers. She was also wearing two wrist watches. They were very similar, one had a brown band and the other band was black. There were also some consistencies in the faces, like they were produced by the same maker. Hanich noticed they both were set to the same time.
“Your name is Hanich?” she asked as she put down two layers of blankets in the corner, and he opened his sack to retrieve his other change of clothes.
“It is,” Hanich said. “Mira, may I ask what happened to your face?”
Mira looked down again, taking a small step back from him.
“It is not an unpleasant thing to wear,” Hanich said. “I only wondered about the reason.”
Mira looked up at him and smiled slightly.
“You do not know what we do here.”
Hanich threw his bag of clothes on the bedroll. It was a small corner and wasn’t as large as the room he had at home, but he wasn’t obligated to share it with three brothers either, so he could not imagine anything more perfect. It would also be warm, being next to the fireplace. Someone had put up a three paneled privacy screen which Hanich would need to adjust.
“I guess I don't ma’am,” he said. “I understood we help people somehow.”
“You need not call me ma’am,” Mira said. “You had best change quickly. We have much to do today. This evening we will prepare a meal, and we will serve it to those who arrive in need of food and company.”
“How many would that be?” Hanich asked, but Mira had already walked away from his corner and was shutting the door of the main room behind her. He quickly put his wet clothes on a set of hooks on the side of the fireplace where they might dry and put on his other clothes.
Hanich had been eager to work for a long time, and there was no one here who would hold him back saying he was too sickly or small for such things.
“Here Hanich,” Mira called him as he entered a room with long tables, lined with chairs to either side. Hanich made his way across the room and she greeted him with a tray covered with cookies of every kind and shape. Mira held it out to him until he reached for a cookie, then she moved it out of his reach.
“No Hanich,” she said. “Take the entire tray.”
He took the tray; it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. Hanich decided he would enjoy working in a place where they let him have whole platters of cookies to salivate over, trying to decide which he would sample first.
“Go outside on the corner and give these to as many children as you can,” Mira said. “Return when you are done.”
Hanich felt his face fall. He had misunderstood the purpose of the tray from the beginning, and had done a fine job of making himself look silly. Hopefully it was something which hadn't really been noticed and would be quickly forgotten.
“What if I don’t find any children?” Hanich asked. He had seen only a few people milling about in the short walk between the horse trolley and the shop, however, it had been raining at the time.
“Trust me,” Mira said, not quite hiding a smirk. “The children will most assuredly find you.”
Mira was correct, of course. The rain had subsided, leaving the gutters with a lazy flow of water and the occasional puddle. The sun was hidden behind clouds, but they were lighter than they had been before. Between the time Hanich stepped outside and when he reached the corner, he found himself in the company of twenty-seven young bodies who had converged on him and jostled for the best positions relative to the tray as he lifted the cookies out of the reach of dozens of tiny hands. It was like the time when the cousins had visited for Christmastime; they had supposed the candy set high on the shelf was meant exclusively for them.
“There is enough for you all,” Hanich said with a firm voice. “And I will box the ears of anyone attempting to take more than one. Form a line if you would.”
The children were eager in their desire for the cookies, but Hanich managed to keep them in check. All the while a young girl who wore a ragged dress stood at his side, offering her support for his efforts to create order amidst the chaos. She was, of course, eating her own cookie all the while.
The treats were quickly gone, and the children just as quickly dispersed to their play, a few actually thanked him before they were on their way. Hanich returned the tray inside. Mira had put the chairs all upon the tables and was busy sweeping the floor. Hanich found another broom and began sweeping from the other side.
It was in the midst of this task that Hanich remembered the little girl had, at one point, put the tops of her fingers into this vest pocket. At the time it had seemed innocent enough, he hadn’t given it a second thought.
Hanich stopped for a moment, and put his hand into the selfsame pocket. Where once the lucky coin his father had brought back from the war rested there was nothing to be found. The coin was indeed gone, and it was most likely the little girl had taken it.
“Doggon it,” Hanich exclaimed. He had not realized how close he had been working to his new employer. Mr. Scrimm had in fact stopped at a nearby table to write something on a document he had been holding.
“Is there a problem M
aster Hanich?” Mr. Scrimm asked without actually looking up.
“Begging your pardon, sir. I’ve lost my lucky coin,” Hanich said, trying to look down into this pocket in case his fingers missed something his eyes might see. “I believe it was one of the children.”
“I see,” Mr Scrimm said, then turned back to finish the note he was scribbling onto the page.
As Hanich returned to his work, Mr. Scrimm stood up, put the pages under one arm and turned to Hanich.
“Perhaps Master. Hanich,” Mr. Scrimm said. “You will no longer require the services of a lucky coin.”
“I seem to have little choice in the matter, Mr. Scrimm,” Hanich said.
Mr. Scrimm thought for a moment. He had a distant look when he was thinking, and a bit of a smile.
“If your coin is indeed lucky,” Mr Scrimm said at last. “You may find it will return itself to you.”
“On that,” Hanich said. “We will be obliged to wait and see.”
The League of Red-Eyed Gentlemen
After an afternoon of cleaning the large dining room, and assisting the cook as he prepared a large meal, Hanich counted thirty-two people as they showed up for dinner.
The cook was a large dark man named Ope who seemed to only speak in one word sentences, on those rare occasions when he chose to speak at all. He indicated what was ready to go out to the tables with a nod or by pointing a kitchen utensil. Hanich busied himself with carrying food to the tables, and after a few minutes carrying