"Master, Master," Ugilino said enthusiastically, "you could teach me to put the lenses in the frames."
The Master snorted. "Yes, and pigs will learn to sing in the church choir." Lincoln laughed till Hansum kicked him under the table. Then the Master said sternly, "Ugilino, I told you to go to Father Lurenzano's after supper."
"But Master . . ." Ugilino began. The big, red hand banged the table again. Everyone was quiet. Ugilino got up slowly, walked to the door, opened it and paused for a second. He looked at everyone, then left. As the door closed, everybody burst back into happy chatter.
The Master continued. "Carmella, tomorrow after market, you will learn to put the lenses in the frames. With your good hands, I think this will not be a problem."
"That is wonderful," Guilietta said enthusiastically. "And I will make sure everybody gets their meals, Papa."
"Just so, daughter. But after dinner, you and Romero will go back to the market. You will show him the furniture maker's." The idea of spending time alone with Guilietta hit Hansum right between the eyes. The Master added, "Romero, I trust you to assess whether this furniture maker is adequate to the job. If you think he is, bring him back to meet me. I will negotiate a price. Romero? Romero? Are you listening?" Now it was Lincoln's turn to kick Hansum under the table.
"Sorry, Master," Hansum finally said. "I heard you. I was . . . thinking."
"Our daughter in public with a servant!" the Signora objected. "Scandalous!"
"Quiet, woman. We must mobilize our house like an army. This is war! Us against the world! Us against poverty!"
Soon the plan was set. All had their instructions, except Lincoln.
***
"Maruccio," the Master said.
"Si, Master?" Lincoln found the Master's eyes staring right into his.
"You have been doing an excellent job, Maruccio."
"Grazie, Master."
"For one so young, even for one some years older."
This caught Lincoln off guard. He actually blushed. "Grazie, Master."
"There's not much more to say except to keep doing what you are doing."
"Well, when we get the new lathe," Lincoln said, "it will be me that prepares the dops and flips the lenses over. I've looked at the drawings and thought about it."
Lincoln and the Master were looking deep into one another's eyes. Sober, sincere, connected.
"I see you have thought about it," Agistino replied. "And thought well, Maruccio." Lincoln smiled. He actually giggled involuntarily. But he was stopped by the big finger of the Master's hand, which was held up to make a point. "But this, my young friend, you must understand. To do a job well for some days or weeks, a month even, that is one thing. But for a family to be successful, for a business to flourish, one must be prepared to work well for years. To establish a reputation and wealth, this takes a strong heart. Are you prepared for this, young Maruccio?"
Lincoln's emotions were mixed. He had been promised to be back in his home with his mother, father and A.I. nanny within a month. That time was coming soon. He swallowed hard and had to admit that whatever plan the History Camp people had put together, it must be working for him to feel so confused. He refocused and found the Master still staring at him. He answered sincerely.
"Yes, Master. I can do it."
Chapter 44
The next morning Agistino came downstairs to find the fire blazing, hot leftovers already on the table, and the girls waiting to go to the market. He took out his pouch and counted some coins for Guilietta.
"Carmella and I know exactly what we are going for, and will be back very soon, Father." She showed him a shopping list in her own beginner's hand. Aspics of meat, dried sausage, preserved carp, many loaves of bread, figs, apples, pears, chestnuts and other nutritious foods that could be eaten casually without requiring much time to prepare. Hansum and Lincoln came in and Agistino noted how even Maruccio looked like he had scrubbed and cleaned himself with extra care this morning.
"Eat, boys, eat. A full belly makes your fire strong."
When Agistino had been on his lathe for a bit over an hour, he looked around and saw that Shamira was already back from the market. Hansum was giving her a lesson on mounting the lenses. The Master got up and came to inspect her progress. He had to admit that between Hansum's quiet teaching and Shamira's dexterity, there was little he could suggest to improve her work. He crossed himself and gave thanks to both God and Father Aaron. Then the shop became suddenly noisy again.
"Master, I'm back," Ugilino shouted as he came running in the door. "The Father says he'll come tomorrow to introduce us to two more churches. I'm supposed to run to the priests today and tell them we're coming. Hey, what's Carmella doin' in the shop? That's men's work."
"She's quicker and better than me," Hansum replied. Ugilino had a look on his face that seemed to question why one person would build up another at his own expense.
Just as they were locking the shop for dinner, two parishioners of San Zeno showed up to purchase spectacles. The Master sent the others ahead, but told Ugilino to stay with him.
When the Master and Ugilino returned to the house, Agistino showed off the ten soldi already brought in before the morning meal. He said that Ugilino had conducted himself not badly with the customers. He predicted that after the next few weeks, business should be quite regular, booming even.
Just then, the Signora reached across the table to grab a few extra olives and there was a big ripping sound.
"Cavolo!" she swore, lifting her arm and exposing a large hole with dangling threads. "That was my best frock!" she whined.
"Perhaps this afternoon," Guilietta suggested, "we can visit the Satores. They can sew you a new dress."
"Yes, a whole new wardrobe!" the Signora beamed, her attitude changing instantly.
"We've no money for new clothes!" Agistino complained.
"I'm sure they would trade for discs for the eyes, Master," Hansum suggested. "They squint when they work."
"Okay, okay. But not a whole wardrobe. Just one frock. And sturdy material," Agistino emphasized. "To hold in her bulk."
***
After dinner, Pan watched the House of della Cappa continue its campaign. Ugilino was sent to tell the priests of their visit tomorrow. Lincoln and Shamira quickly followed the Master back to the shop to work. This left Hansum in the house with Guilietta and the Signora. Hansum stood back, watching Guilietta walk her now giggling mother up the stairs for her nap. The old lady wouldn't stop talking about how she would instruct the tailor on this or that detail of her new wardrobe.
Pan could sense how Hansum was now anxious with anticipation. He scanned the youth's respiration and heart rate and noted they had increased dramatically. They climbed even higher when Guilietta reappeared at the top of the steps. She stopped and the two young people's eyes met.
"Try to keep to the business at hand, Young Master," Pan whispered. Guilietta continued her descent. "Now your sympathetic nervous system is causing the blood vessels of your face to contract. You're blushing." But Pan could see his advice was to no avail. The boy was totally besotted. Hansum opened the door and the teens stepped out into the street. They walked side by side: Guilietta, her hands clasped in front of her, Hansum, his hands behind. Finally, Hansum said, "The weather. It looks like it may rain today."
"It was cloudy at the market when Carmella and I were there at dawn."
"But look, the light of the sun breaks through the clouds. It makes everything look soft."
"Which direction is that?"
"It is the east," Hansum said looking directly at Guilietta. "The sun comes up in the east."
Guilietta looked up at him for a moment, then quickly in the other direction. The clouds were parting everywhere. "Look, the moon is still up in that direction. You can just barely see it."
"The sunlight makes the moon pale," Hansum said. Then Pan, listening to the awkward conversation, thought to himself, 'I might as well give the kid some ammunition.' He whispered
into Hansum's ear, which he repeated. "The sun is the moon's handmaiden, and yet she outshines it."
"I remember when I was younger. We had several maids," Guilietta replied.
"But none more fair than you, I'm sure."
When Hansum repeated this, Guilietta gave him a quick glance.
"Now I am my mother's maid."
"You will have maids of your own again." These were Hansum's own words. Pan raised a holographic eyebrow. It was said with a quiet conviction, implying several things. Guilietta looked at Hansum quietly and they continued walking.
In the market, Guilietta showed Hansum the furniture maker's stall. Hansum moved his head around so Pan could inspect all of the examples of chairs, tables and trunks. It wasn't fine furniture, but it was far better than most of the plank and limb stuff that most people owned.
"I understand the Podesta has some of your furniture," Hansum said to the stall attendant. He was a maimed soldier, the master furniture maker's uncle, who was now only good for sitting and talking. He was missing an eye and a foot, but spoke quite well and had a rather cheerful personality. He hobbled about with a well-carved crutch, made, he said, by his nephew.
"Yes, the Podesta owns some of our work. They are in his servants' quarters."
Despite this, Pan confirmed that the work showed skills that should make the carpenter an adequate candidate for the lathe commission. Chairs of the same design were close enough in size that he probably did know how to measure and follow a pattern, unlike many craftspersons whose work varied significantly from one similar object to another. The furniture was not made here, but in a shop outside of the southern wall, close to San Francesco al Corso. Directions given, they left the market. Many of the merchants called out to Guilietta, now a market regular. They called out their hellos and also to tell her of some foodstuffs they were getting in. Quite a few of the women raised their eyes or made hand-shaking gestures to Guilietta when they thought Hansum wasn't looking.
As they came to the Bra Gates, Hansum stopped. "What's this mean?" he asked, imitating the hand shaking movement.
"You don't know?" Guilietta looked at him mischievously.
He reached across and almost touched Guilietta, then pulled his finger back, like it had been burnt on something hot. The two teenagers giggled. Then Guilietta reached forward, put her finger on Hansum's arm, repeating the joke slowly. They stared for a second, till Guilietta lowered her eyes chastely. Then they continued on their way out through the gates and out of the market. What they did not see, though Pan did, was Ugilino. He was on his way back from San Fermo, standing, gape-mouthed, no more than fifty paces from them. He had seen this intimacy.
Chapter 45
That night at supper, Ugilino sat quietly, slowly eating his food while others told of their day's adventures. For him, the food didn't hold the magic it had a short day earlier. He listened as the Master told how seven more people came to their shop to buy discs for the eyes, how Shamira had done an excellent job with setting the lenses in the frames, how Lincoln had even worked on the lathe while the Master was taking care of a customer. Hansum and Guilietta told about having to go close to San Francesco al Corso to visit the furniture maker, Master Raphael. He had four apprentices and two journeymen and also three different-sized pole lathes for shaping wood. The carpentry master and journeymen were excited to see such detailed plans and said they looked forward to the precise work of making the interchangeable dops.
"Good, good," the Master smiled. "But remember not to tell them too much about the lathe. If they realize how different it is, they could steal the ideas and take them to Florence. I know you are too trusting, Romero."
"Don't you worry, Papa," Guilietta said. "I shall keep an eye on this one."
This was too much for Ugilino. He shot to his feet, pushing back the bench roughly and almost knocking the three other teenagers off. Lincoln's bowl spilled to the floor.
"I'm going to bed," the oaf said gruffly.
"UGILINO!" the Master shouted. "What's wrong with you? If you ever. . ."
But Ugilino didn't wait to hear the end of the Master's admonishment. He was gone.
***
Not long after, Ugilino could hear the orphans coming up the ladder. They moved quietly, like they didn't want to disturb him. He lay curled up in the hay, wrapped in his blanket and pretending to be asleep. Ugilino's miserable mood was made even worse when he heard how happy the orphans were.
"That new lathe is really going to be great," he heard the younger one whisper. "I'll have fun working on it with the Master." These words stung Ugilino.
"Yeah, it'll really help the family prosper." When the older orphan said family, he knew he was really referring to Guilietta.
"G'night, Hansum. Night, Pan," he heard Lincoln whispered.
"Night."
"Good night."
***
A happy Hansum lay in the straw, his whole consciousness consumed by Guilietta. He replayed their walk in his mind, their first extended eye contact, her smooth skin, the almond- shaped eyes that became even softer when she looked at him. He was falling into those eyes when he felt himself being roughly turned over. The stink of a bulldog's breath filled his face.
"You think you can turn up here and take my place?"
"Ugilino, what are you talking . . ."
Ugilino's hands gripped Hansum's shoulders and held him down fast. The brute's big knuckles pushed into Hansum's shoulder socket and pressed on a nerve. "I'm the senior apprentice! I should sit next to the Master!"
"Calm down, Ugilino. You're hurting me. Owwww!"
"And stay away from Guilietta!" he growled, leaning down with all his weight.
"What are you talking ab . . ." Ugilino knuckles pushed deeper into Hansum's rotator cuff, causing waves of pain to shoot through his body.
"I'll tell the Master what I saw in the piazza," Ugilino growled. "How you looked at each..." But his rage seemed to explode when he said this. Hansum felt a knee punching into his ribs, then another into his stomach, causing him to throw up. Hansum felt his face being rubbed into the puke. "Not such a pretty face now," Ugilino spit. Hansum looked up helplessly to see Ugilino's enraged visage. Then he saw a piece of heavy lumber in his hand. "I'll change that pretty face of yours for good," he shouted at the defenseless Hansum. A dark figure flew through the air. Lincoln slammed into Ugilino. The larger youth flew backwards and hit his head on the corner of the ladder. All went quiet. Hansum began to cough. Lincoln helped him to his knees. Pan popped out of Hansum's shoulder. Actually, it was only a large, single goat eye floating in the air, looking around and also casting light for the boys to see. Ugilino lay unconscious. Lincoln went over to the big, motionless lump. Hansum rubbed his throat and arm. Then the eye turned into a little whirlwind. A moment later, Pan was standing by Ugilino. He bent down and looked at the prone figure.
"Is he all right?" Lincoln asked fearfully. "Is he . . ."
"He's breathing," Pan assured. "But he may have a concussion." Pan reached out, like he was going to lift Ugilino's eyelid, but his holographic hand went right through him. "Lincoln, Young Master, lift his eyelid for me. I'll do a retina and blood vessel scan to assess the damage."
"I didn't mean to hurt him," Lincoln said, scared.
"You did what was necessary, Young Master," Pan said seriously. "Don't move his head or neck, just in case. Only his eyelid. There. Uh huh. Uh huh," the imp said, looking into Ugilino's eye. It only took a few moments. "He's fine. There's a very slight concussion, but the data I get shows he's living with previous head-blow damage far more serious. This shouldn't change a thing. Master Hansum, you look pale. Shall I check you?"
Hansum waved Pan off. "No, I'm all right."
"What are we going to do about this guy?" Lincoln said. "He's nuts."
"Hmmm," Pan murmured, "I have a wee plan that might influence our friend here."
***
Pan had Hansum place his little brass lamp in the crevice of a beam to give him full v
iew of the loft. While the two boys pretended to sleep, Pan expanded himself up to his full height of one meter. Then he strode over to the still-prone Ugilino, who was now snoring loudly.
"Oh, being non-corporeal can become tiresome," Pan complained. "Will one of you please wake him for me?"
Hansum threw a piece of wood at Ugilino's leg. When Ugilino stirred, Pan took on a serious look.
"Oh, oohhh. Oh, my head," Ugilino groaned.
"Rise, you worthless soul," Pan proclaimed loudly. "See what eternity has in store for you!"
"Oh shut up, you stupid orph . . ." Ugilino's curse stopped short as he opened his eyes and gazed upon the self-illuminated figure of a church fresco come to life. "I, I, I..." he stammered.
"Behold!" Pan shouted. "The dolt of death utters forth his perspicuous soliloquy. I, I, I..." and then Pan doubled over in mock laughter.
"I, I, I..." Ugilino repeated.
"Oh, disappointment is my lot. I believed I would be visiting a sinner with style. I understood you to be the Deflowerer of Florence, the Plague of Padua, the Mangler of Mantua, the Sodomiser of Syracuse, the Blight, Destroyer, Ruination, Damnation, Vexation and Virulence of Verona. And all you can muster are musty I, I, I, Is. Tsk, tsk. Such a disappointment."
"Are, are you the devil?"
"Me? The devil? Ha! The devil waste his time on a useless like you? I am but one of his minions, freed from the eternal flames for a few minutes to take you, yes, to the Satan of Sadness."
"But I am not dead."
"What? Not dead, my love? But you rot as you lie there."
Ugilino did a double take, looking quickly where his head had lain, checking to see if it was true. Then he jumped to his feet.
"No, demon spirit, I'm alive. See, I still breathe." He took several deep breaths and then looked dizzy. "And my heart," he added, "is beating like the wings of a bat."
Pan looked serious and paused for effect. He walked over to Ugilino, coming up only to his waist. Ugilino recoiled. Pan looked the youth up and down.
"Perhaps I've been sent on a fool's errand, another bedevilment by that devious emperor of demons, designed to cause me more unspeakable torment if I don't bring you back." Pan looked thoughtful. "Perhaps I should kill you to save myself more unspeakable pain?"