Book 2: Chapter 6: Rare Commodities

Book 2: Chapter 6: Rare Commodities

Both mine and Maria's arms were full as we strode toward Tropica.

The rising sun had crested the horizon, allowing me to steal glances at Maria and the obvious joy and anticipation spread over her face.

"You know, if someone saw you smiling so hard about creating heretical objects, they might make some terrible assumptions."

"It's horrible, isn't it?" she asked, still beaming. "Your bad influence is spreading."

"Truly a travesty," I said, laughing.

As our footing swapped from sand and soil to cobblestones, we started passing people in the street. We were greeted with smiling faces, waves, and more than a few good-mornings as we made our way toward the woodworkers.

I knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal Brad, coffee in hand and apron already dirty with wood chips and shavings.

"I was wondering when you were coming by! Come on in."

We followed him inside, and a workstation was already cleared and set up with myriad tools.

"I wasn't aware you were coming too, Maria—did you want me to set up another workspace for you?"

"Nah, you're all good," I answered. "We can make room if she wants to try it herself—I don't want to impose on you more than necessary."

"You're never imposing, Fischer. I wasn't joking when I said you don't have to ask to use it." He fumbled in a back pocket. "That's why I wanted to give you this."

My eyebrows shot up at what was in his hand. It was a small metal key.

"What's this, mate?"

"A key to the workshop."

"Woah," I said, stopping. "I appreciate it, but you've already done so much."

"Nonsense." He dropped it into my top pocket, which I was unable to block given the crate of fittings, bearings, and other knick-knacks occupying my arms. "Think of it this way—it's a weight off my shoulders because I won't need to go out of my way to let you in if you have work to do at odd hours."

"Sounds like he's trapped you, Fischer," Maria said, setting her bamboo poles down and patting me on the shoulder. "Turning it down now would be downright rude, which a proper, gods-fearing citizen like yourself would never be... right?"

She grinned at us, and Brad barked a laugh.

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

"Mate... I don't know what to say..."

"You could say thank you," Maria suggested, elbowing me lightly in the side.

I put my crate down and turned to him.

"You a hugger, Brad?"

"Er, I mean—"

He cut off as I wrapped him up, gave him a few pats on the back, then let go.

"Thank you, mate. I appreciate the trust."

"You're welcome." He rubbed the back of his head. "It's the least I can do given how much you've helped Tropica."

"Alright, that's enough flirting you two," Maria said, shooting us a wink. "I'm sure you've got orders to fill, Brad, and we've got rods to make!"

"Sorry, mate," I said to Brad. "She's terribly jealous."

"It's true," Maria agreed, unpacking the contents of my crate.

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and shook his head.

"I'm just gonna keep sanding these chairs down—I don't even know what to say to you two."

Maria and I shared a grin as he turned away.

I started helping her unpack and organize the components.

***

"Are these the offcuts we can use?" I asked from my kneeling position by a bench.

"Aye," Brad said, still focused on his work.

"You didn't even look..."

"That's because you can use whatever you want—there are more chucks of ironbark riddled in there at the back."

"Thanks, mate, but I think we'll try using something a little easier to work with—they don't need to be works of art. I'll definitely take one for Maria's reel, though."

I shot her a wink, and she held a hand to her chest and mouthed, “who, me?”

I collected an armful of offcuts that were roughly the correct shape: six softwoods, and an ironbark one for Maria.

A softwood one went in the vice first, and after winding it firmly closed, I picked up a hand saw and started shaping.

"So," I instructed, "it's best to get a rough shape going before we start filing and shaving."

My enhanced body easily pushed the saw's teeth through the soft wood, and within minutes, the block was roughly circular.

"What's the look for?"

"Oh, nothing—you just reminded me how smooth-brained I can be at times."

"What does asking about the luck bonus have to do with how smooth you are?"

"Wait... what? Oh! I don't mean I'm smooth with my words; I mean my brain is smooth. A wrinkly brain is very-much preferred, and having a smooth brain implies I'm an idiot."

She gave me a flat stare.

"Fischer."

"Yeah?"

"What on Kallis are you talking about?"

"It's basic biology. Having a wrinkly brain means there's more of a surface-to-volume ratio, which allows room for more neurons while decreasing the relative distance between them. Though, there is an argument that having a smooth-brain is a defense mechanism that makes you more aerodynamic, allowing insults to slip right off—"

"Nope," she said, holding up a hand.

"... nope?"

"Nope," she repeated. "I've heard enough, and I won't be letting you take us any further off track from my glorious fishing rod we're definitely making today. Understood?"

A smile curled the corner of her lip as she raised an eyebrow in expectation of an answer, and I grinned down at her.

"Understood, boss."

"Good. Before we continue, why did asking about the luck bonus make you feel like an idiot?"

I opened my mouth, and she held up a finger, signaling me to wait.

"I will allow you to explain it in seven words—no more, no less."

"My lady would allow me to speak seven words? This lowly one thanks elder sister."

I bowed at the waist, and she giggled. She cut it off and cleared her throat as she tried to hide her amusement behind a mask of indifference.

I rubbed my chin in exaggerated thought, planning my seven words carefully.

"Fischer can wear fishing rod," I said with the intonation of a caveman. "Increase luck."

She nodded, then responded with the same cadence.

"Luck good. Fischer smart."

"No—Fischer dumb. It Maria idea."

I paused for effect, rubbing my chin as if I was channeling every ounce of intellect into my next words.

"Maria smart."

***

Brad shook his head as he listened to the two go back and forth.

He had been adjusting to the abilities and strength of his newfound body over the past week. One such ability was his enhanced hearing, which he was currently utilizing to eavesdrop. He was all the way at the other side of the workshop, and by all rights, shouldn't be able to hear their conversation.

He'd intended to search for nuggets of wisdom, and to that end, he'd succeeded. Knowing that gaining levels in a skill would allow one to read created items' bonuses was intel he couldn't wait to share with Barry.

Despite the insight, and despite the possibility of further knowledge to come, he found himself more interested in their playful bickering. Genuine connection and conversation were rare commodities, and it made him think of his own partner. He felt guilt for listening in on such intimate moments, but as he began traversing that internal rabbit hole, he shook himself.

Focus, Brad, he thought. Keep your mind on the mission at hand.

"Alright," Fischer said, laughing. "Let's put this reel on the rod and see what happens."

Brad refocused, his hands moving of their own accord across the leg of a chair atop his workbench as he listened in.

***

I started by screwing in the rod's eyelets.

"These are what you run the line through. When either you or the fish pull, the rod will flex and take most of the pressure from the line."

Maria nodded intently, her eyes focused on what I was doing.

Next, I attached the bracket I'd asked Fergus, the blacksmith, to create for me. It, along with the others I'd had him make, were slightly smaller than the one on my fishing rod.

"This is what allows the reel to flick sideways and let the line spool out freely."

She said nothing, merely watching.

My heart hammered in my chest as I picked up the reel and slid a bearing into it. The fitting was seamless, and I took a deep breath as I slotted it onto the metal bracket.

Exhaling, I focused on what I wanted the rod to become.

The world listened, and it blurred before my eyes. The shape expanded, then contracted and sharpened.

My vision was drawn into my newest creation.