Holes / Part II

In the months that followed very little changed in the hamlet of Yapalap. The weather remained cool and fair as it does every year. The riverbed was dry as usual, and the men made their wooden whatchamacallits as they have done for decades.

Time had passed, but no one noticed or could say exactly to the number of days, or months, or years with any concrete accuracy -- no one in the hamlet wore a watch or owned a calendar. It was during an early spring when the air held the chill of winter and the sun had risen above the tops of the giant white trees. When snow could be seen on the surrounding mountaintops and food was plentiful. When water flowed in the springs, and the brooks gurgled over their rocky edges, and the deer, wild turkeys and rabbits ran with abundance throughout the forest

It was a day just like that when a single rider mounted on a fine palomino horse rode into the hamlet of Yapalap. The rider stood tall in the stirrups riding high above the saddle, wearing shiny handsome leather pants and new brown leather boots. The stranger’s shirt was made of the finest leather in the land and opened at the neck with real wooden buttons. A hood covered the rider’s head. An official banner was pinned at the tip of a lance displaying the proud colors of purple and orange, the colors of the third dynasty of the kingdom of Sukhotorcold.

The old man’s shack was not hard to find and the mounted horseman could easily see the two men working together under the canopy. The boy was now a fine handsome young man, tall and proud and true. The rider slowed to a stop, the pony was covered in raw sweat as both rider and mount were in a hurry to find their destination. The king’s messenger dismounted smartly and removed the hood that covered her head. It was with this one single flowing motion that a thick mop of long curly blond hair fell to her shoulders, like a magicians trick, the young apprentice was transformed into a beautiful young girl. The riding apparel was a rogue disguise, as she did not want to be recognized while traveling. Riding alone through the forest could be dangerous for anyone and this particular young woman was very special. This young rider was the only daughter of the king of the third dynasty of Sukhotorcold. Her clothes hung lose on her frame and were dyed in shades of pale green and browns. Her eyes were crystal green as a warm as a tropical sea, her lips were full and succulent, and she walked with the authority of nobility – having direction and purpose to her stride. 

            The old mans son, a handsome young adult himself, couldn’t keep from staring at this beautiful women. Nervously, he dropped the end of the board he held in his hand. His father gave a ghastly shirking cry from deep in his throat. The wooden hand plane jerked from his hands and flew to the ground. The board fell and cracked, the blade of the plane was badly damaged.

            “You just ruined five days of hard work, you useless son of mine. Go now – be rid of yourself -- while I still have control of my temper.”

The young man was embarrassed to be seen making such a grave mistake in front of this beautiful visitor that he was hoping to impress. The striking young lady smiled and blushed sharing his embarrassment. He was not worried about his father’s anger, the old man was known to throw temper tantrums and fits and have days of depression from losing a good board or misplacing a tool that was needed that very moment, and couldn’t be found.

The young woodworker was mostly upset because he was asked to leave, and could no longer feast his eyes on such a beautiful creature or find out why God had dropped her from he heavens to descend on this hamlet. He thought to himself -- she must be here for one single purpose -- for her and I to fall in love.

The only daughter of the third dynasty of the kingdom of Sukhotorcold pulled a tightly rolled scroll protected in a canvas sheath from her saddlebag and began to read --loud enough for the entire hamlet to hear.

“The King of the third dynasty of Sukhotorcold claims the hamlet of Yapalpe by right of eminent domain and hereby orders the best hole maker in all of Yapalpe to make a hole as wide as a giant lizard’s tail”.

The king had sent a challenge to the woodworkers of Yapalap. The beautiful young maiden continued, “He further orders that the hole be made to specifications that will allow it to be both contractible and expandable, at the pleasure of the king”.

            She tossed three silk purses of gold coins to the ground at the foot of the old woodworker. His son could not keep his excitement contained any longer and ran out from behind the neighboring shack and grabbed one of the bags off the ground. Slowly talking out one coin out at a time, he held them up to the sky and studied them carefully, like one would examine a Robin’s egg for the first time.

The young man turned each coin over in his fingers, seeing the beautifully engraved numbers and symbols imprinted on each side. He noticed that some of the gold coins had holes in them, and showed those to his father. But the holes where irregular and poorly formed and did not impress the old man at all. The young boy noticed that the sizes of the coins varied. With an increase in numerical denomination the physical size of the coin increased as well. No one in the entire hamlet had ever seen a gold coin, much less a bag of them. The people were greatly impressed that the king would be interested in the workings of a poor simple hamlet like Yapalap, but they were also confused, they simply had no idea what to do with a bag of gold coins.

Money had no use in the hamlet, for nothing was for sale. The people had lived by the barter system for centuries. Everything they made was traded. The old man swapped his fine wooden holes for a neighbor’s whatsyoucallit. That tool helped his wife remove the weeds in the garden. The man who made the thingamabobs that hung from the ceiling and held a candle in place to light the inside of the shack traded the extra ones for gismos that made different sounds by adjusting the tautness of the animal gut held slightly away from its bell shaped frame. Gold coins were pointless in the lives of the people of Yapalap. Not wanting to be impolite, the three purses of gold coins were moved to the communal storage shed where they would be kept safe, and placed on a table next to the elephant manure.

The beautiful young woman rider turned swiftly and rode out of town in the same direction she had come from – but not without turning her head for one last look at the old man’s son that was openly smiling and passionately waving good-by.

Within a couple of weeks everyone had forgotten about the strange young visitor. The workers, the wives, and the children went back to their day-to-day lives. No one thought about making a hole as large as a giant lizard’s tail. That was, no one except the old man, and the old man’s son.

The old man never thought about making holes any larger than an egg, until now – when that became all he thought about. It wasn’t the gold coins that interested him, he had no use for gold coins, it was the challenge of creating a hole larger and purer and deeper then he had even dreamed about.

He told his son, “Just because it has never been done is no reason to think it couldn’t be done”.

Everyday and every night he thought about a hole the size of a giant lizard’s tail and how it could be made. On the other hand, his son dreamed only of the beautiful women on horseback with long curly hair and deep green eyes and how he could possibly get to see her again?

The old man fell into a deep depression after that day. He was no longer interested in drilling the same perfect round holes the size of hawk’s eggs. He lied at night in deep concentration, getting up to sketch designs and patterns for tools. In the morning he would tack then to the shop walls, then throughout the day he would add notes to describe how to use the patterns. Days would pass and he would have to add new notes to remind him what the original notes were for. He was obsessed by something larger than himself. He no longer made anything. His family could no longer barter for goods or food or any of life’s necessities. There was nothing more important in the world to the old man than to try and figure out how to make giant holes. Laughter was no longer heard from the old man’s dwelling.

At first his son didn’t mind. He enjoyed not having any work to do and he could sit around all day and dream about the beautiful princess from the third dynasty of the kingdom of Sukhotorcold. He fantasized that he too made beautiful holes, just like his father, and since his holes were pure and natural and more beautiful than any holes anywhere else in the kingdom, she would fall deeply in love with him. They would marry, and live in a small hamlet just like this one, and he would build a fine house just like the one his father built, and they would have three children, two boys and one girl. He thought this through to every detail. He would write letters to this beautiful creature and profess his love. But, because he had no way of knowing where she lived, he would save the letters. He would then go back and rewrite the letters, sometimes making them funny and other times they were very serious and described every thought he ever had in the world.

As the seasons past, his father sank into a deeper depression, and the young man’s fears became real and food for the family became scarce. The young man realized his father’s quest was destroying their family, and he tried reasoning with the old man. He told his father he didn’t like the two men who were ministers for the king. He said they had shifty eyes, and large stomachs from excessive eating. There hands were smooth, like they had never handled a shovel or wield an ax in their lifetime, so they couldn’t be trusted. He made an empty promise to his father that he would stop thinking of the beautiful young woman if his father would stop thinking of making a hole as large as a giant lizard’s tail. It will only bring more strangers to our hamlet, he said. We have no need of gold coins or slaves or cattle, he pleated.

            The woodworker’s family ate only the rice and simple vegetables that grew in their garden. The young boy hardly ate at all. What little food was put in front of him he would  pick at it for no apparent reason? He would play with each grain of rice on his plate and daydream about better times. The young man was once slim and strong with long tight muscles, but was now emaciated and weak. His mother was very concerned about his health but his father never noticed.

Every waking hour the old man spent in deep thought about how he could make a hole as large as a giant lizard’s tail. He would spend his days arranging and adjusting the machinery in his shop. His son no longer had any boards to hold, for they were traded for food long ago. He would sit quietly on a log at the side of the hut and be quiet, not wanting to be in his father’s way. He watched his father get excited, and burst with glee, brimming with the energy of success only to see him dejected and slothful the following day, lost in defeat. He never understood what was happening, only that his father became distant and removed from the things in life he was taught were important. The spring turned to summer, summer turned to fall, and fall became winter -- the seasons past-by like the dreams of young man.

            Then one day in the middle of the night the old man jumped from bed and knew he had solved the problem. It was so simple he thought to himself, why did it take me so long to figure out? The hole could be cut using a scribe, supported at various lengths that rotated in a continuous circle. I could build a spring-loaded machine that would adjust the weight and depth of the cut. He smiled at his own ingenious. Then the rest would be easy, he thought. Once a perfect circle was made I could remove an equal amount of material from any side and the circle would become smaller. When the material was placed back in the same place, the circle would expand to its original size. Now, let me sketch the designs and build the jigs to make the machines that will be needed.

            The old man was energetic and out of bed before dawn. His son sensed his energy and quickly dressed – when they went outside to begin the day’s work they could hear that water was rushing in the riverbed.


to be continued . . .