The Last Philosopher

The game of compromise

Currently editing

Charlie wasn't too pleased about accepting people into a place whose front looked worse than some of the town's outhouses. Not only was it stained, but they had brown rain coming through the roof on the second floor. Still, she wasn't in charge of building upkeep.

It hadn't been included in the compromise the two young something or others made that first evening in HC's. What they decided was that she would loan him the money to buy the place. Since Charlie had worked numerous jobs since she was a kid, there were considerable savings. To pay her back for the loan — besides an even split, and most of his earnings until he paid her back — Herschel also promised her something called a veto in money matters. He explained that meant she got to decide what people paid, and who got helped pro-bone, or free. Their deal said nothing about what HC's would look like.

Deciding was what she was doing as she chatted up the line outside HC's. Since she knew most everyone, at least by reputation. She had no trouble knowing who was most in need of help, and what they could pay.

Still, even with her veto, Herschel was making himself happy by taking books as the preferred payment. In those rare cases when someone owned a book. She hadn't the heart to stop him gathering them up like a great bookwyrm, it was enough to know that she could. Besides at some point a bookstore should perhaps have some books? Charlie's preferred payment was coin, which went right back into her savings. Coin was almost like hard currency in these barter dependant parts.

With HC's opening, even Herschel's old p-word accuser Geraldine and her neighbour Ada came to get some help. The two old dears had been best frenemies since youth. Like a couple of stubborn goats they'd locked horns way back and never could get loose. Geraldine was the only woman she knew that always wore pants. Even thought with her twiggy legs and ample gut, she would've looked better in a dress.

"Hello ladies, wha' seems ta be the trouble" Charlie said moving them up the line. She reckoned it was a good to keep Geraldine on their side.

"She's been pickin' all mi raspberries!" They both pointed at each other.

"Mi? No you!"

"I've been pickin' those bushes since I was a girl!" Ada yelled.

"Well, so 'ave I!"

The two weren't much concerned with the old adage of holding your tongue to keep a friend. Their fight was about a patch of wild raspberry bushes. Not uncommon, because picking someone else's spot just wasn't done. Unless by cover of night, and blaming the birds. Still, who had claim to any given spot was often hotly contested. The bushes weren't on either ladies property, but both women claimed ownership by right of tradition.

Herschel solved it by promising the bushes to whoever was willing to dig them up and replant them on their own property. Neither was willing. Which led to them agreeing to share the berries, in that most traditional way of all, by whoever could get to them first. But Herschel suggested one addition. That whoever got there first, would give a quarter of the pickings to the other. To Charlie's surprise both old battle-axes thought that was a grand idea. As they were leaving, Charlie overheard them laughing about how silly they'd been.

"May yar heart be light an' happy, may yar smile be big an' wide, an' may yar pockets always 'ave a coin or two inside!" Ada said to Geraldine, and they hugged.

"Ya know, ma'be that Nontie ain't no p-word after all?"

"Wull, I never believed it for a second. Ya know wha' tha' wus about, don't ya? Ya use' to bi the prettiest girl in all Remin'ton, and now ya're bitter ya're not still beatin' them aff with a stick." Ada countered.

The truce had held as long as humanly possible. But at least with the bush business solved they had one less thing to fight about. Charlie put out their closed for lunch sign, and went back in.