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Chronicles of a Cooper. (post 19, Rosedale)
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<blockquote data-quote="alsih2o" data-source="post: 2158931" data-attributes="member: 4790"><p><strong>The beginning of the beginning</strong></p><p></p><p>Porter twisted the man around his hip and slung him towards the wagon.</p><p></p><p> Porter was six feet tall by the time he was fifteen years old. On his eighteenth birthday he stood a solid six foot five inches and had bested most of the tradesmen in town at falls. He had also taken their money for toting their loads back and forth. As a coopers con he had found plenty of extra work moving barrels. Slinging barrels of pitch or wine around prepared a man well for hurling men about.</p><p></p><p> As Dorus landed his head passed between the spokes of the wagon’s wheel and he rattled to stop when his shoulders would not pass. Porter was on his back in a flash/</p><p></p><p> “Tell me what is happening! Tell me or I swear I’ll send this wagon a’rollin’ and your head’ll roll with it!” Spittle hung form Porters lower lip as he roared, tears rolled form his eyes and his neck swelled with bulbous veins.</p><p> </p><p> “Don’t do it Porter! Think now Porter, don’t do it!” Dorus struggled against the spokes and struggled to turn and see Porter as he spoke “It was supposed to be a joke. I didn’t want you thinking less of Joseph and nobody like Baldric. I swear, Porter. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!”</p><p></p><p> Porter eased his weight off the man’s back and breathed deeply.</p><p></p><p> Dorus got himself up to his knees slowly. “You gotta think Porter. We gotta do something. I mean, I’ll never tell anyone but folks are gonna come lookin’. They’ll ask questions. Did anyone see you near the orchard?”</p><p></p><p> Dorus turned for his answer but the big man was already gone.</p><p></p><p> ***************************************************************</p><p></p><p> Porter tried not to shiver as clung to the log. He hadn’t running since the wagon and had managed to convince himself that taking the ferry across the river this late was suspicious. He almost laughed at the word suspicious. Nothing suspicious about a full-grown man clinging to a log in the middle of the Calila River on a cold spring night.</p><p></p><p> He made the bank and crawled heavily onto the shore. The water had softened his hard leather apron and it sagged across his body grinding the gritty river mud into his chest with every heaving breath.</p><p></p><p> He thought of heading to a church and pleading for mercy but he had never darkened the door of any church. He thought of walking back into the river and not resisting it, just letting the cold surround him and take him. He thought about the terrible sound of his hammer separating the lord shoulder from his breast.</p><p></p><p> He pulled himself sloppily to his feet and watched the muddy water drip form his clothes. He had wanted to be somebody, to be known, for his entire life and it was about to work against him.</p><p></p><p> Porter inhaled deeply and stumbled up the bank of the river as it began to rain.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="alsih2o, post: 2158931, member: 4790"] [b]The beginning of the beginning[/b] Porter twisted the man around his hip and slung him towards the wagon. Porter was six feet tall by the time he was fifteen years old. On his eighteenth birthday he stood a solid six foot five inches and had bested most of the tradesmen in town at falls. He had also taken their money for toting their loads back and forth. As a coopers con he had found plenty of extra work moving barrels. Slinging barrels of pitch or wine around prepared a man well for hurling men about. As Dorus landed his head passed between the spokes of the wagon’s wheel and he rattled to stop when his shoulders would not pass. Porter was on his back in a flash/ “Tell me what is happening! Tell me or I swear I’ll send this wagon a’rollin’ and your head’ll roll with it!” Spittle hung form Porters lower lip as he roared, tears rolled form his eyes and his neck swelled with bulbous veins. “Don’t do it Porter! Think now Porter, don’t do it!” Dorus struggled against the spokes and struggled to turn and see Porter as he spoke “It was supposed to be a joke. I didn’t want you thinking less of Joseph and nobody like Baldric. I swear, Porter. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!” Porter eased his weight off the man’s back and breathed deeply. Dorus got himself up to his knees slowly. “You gotta think Porter. We gotta do something. I mean, I’ll never tell anyone but folks are gonna come lookin’. They’ll ask questions. Did anyone see you near the orchard?” Dorus turned for his answer but the big man was already gone. *************************************************************** Porter tried not to shiver as clung to the log. He hadn’t running since the wagon and had managed to convince himself that taking the ferry across the river this late was suspicious. He almost laughed at the word suspicious. Nothing suspicious about a full-grown man clinging to a log in the middle of the Calila River on a cold spring night. He made the bank and crawled heavily onto the shore. The water had softened his hard leather apron and it sagged across his body grinding the gritty river mud into his chest with every heaving breath. He thought of heading to a church and pleading for mercy but he had never darkened the door of any church. He thought of walking back into the river and not resisting it, just letting the cold surround him and take him. He thought about the terrible sound of his hammer separating the lord shoulder from his breast. He pulled himself sloppily to his feet and watched the muddy water drip form his clothes. He had wanted to be somebody, to be known, for his entire life and it was about to work against him. Porter inhaled deeply and stumbled up the bank of the river as it began to rain. [/QUOTE]
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