My stepmother demanded drinking water the first thing in the morning, every morning. When I went on this errand, the streets were practically empty. The hustle of the day wouldn't begin for at least another hour. Pembroke, the capital and only major city of Pembria, was a port. The dock area always bustled with the arrival and departure of air and tall-masted ships. The guild district, where I live, was at the outskirts of town towards the mountains and quiet in comparison.
Every day, I walked along the same cobbled stone street to a plaza for drinking water. The houses in the guild district were modern and had a pump to access canal water. Everyone went to the wells for drinking water because the well water was from ancient aquifers and was the sweetest tasting water. Each district, be it the manufacturing, the port, or one of the other four districts of Pembria, claimed their well gave the finest drinking water. Many say the aquifer well at the palace had the absolutely coldest, most refreshing water though, I could not say since I have never been there.
A clunking sound became louder and louder when I was a block from the well.
I stepped into the plaza where a woman, in a powder blue silk skirt and bodice, banged with a black and white striped parasol at the series of gears and pulleys which covered the well. In her other hand, she held a silver teacup.
The contraption frustrated her. When the Queen had them installed six months ago, they had confounded most of the citizens of Pembroke, Pembria. However, everyone quickly learned how to get their precious well water.
"Pardon," I called out using formal language which is the Pembria way when addressing a stranger. "May I be of assistance in retrieving some water from the well contrivance?"
When she faced me, her gold guild pin of a shriveled apple glinted in the sun. She was a H.A.G.! I stumbled a step back. A member of the Hermetic Aphrodite Guild in Pembroke, Pembria. Astonishing!
"I would be ever so grateful for your assistance since I have never encountered such a thing. I am perplexed and thirsty." She stared at my pin of a flat spring with a bee, and finished with, "Spring Guild girl."
Looking at every detail of her dress, parasol, and perfect rosy complexion, I wanted to ask her about being a H.A.G. though my manners suppressed the questions.
"The well contrivance isn't tricky. The main thing to remember is a glass of water is the same price as two gallons." Placing my bucket under the spout, I inserted a coin into the slot and turned the crank once. "My dad and the Gear Guild built seven of them on the Queen's orders."
The H.A.G.'s eyes followed the motions of the contraption. Its gears and springs retrieved and poured water into a tube which directed the water into the bucket.
"Exceptional!" she said when the water started to pour out of the spout.
Without a thought, I said, "Yes, I enjoy watching the workings. All though, our pockets are lighter and the Queen's treasury is fuller." It had become the mantra of the guild district.
The H.A.G. held out her cup towards me.
My hand shook when I took the teacup. I dipped it into the bucket and handed it back, dripping and almost full.
She peered into the glass, sniffed at the water, and drank. Her every movement fascinated me. I couldn't believe a H.A.G. stood before me.
I was one of the early arrivals for the morning's drinking water. Typically, I would greet Grecia of the Baker's Guild, Asa of the Dyer's guild, or a few other girls going about their morning chores. Today, the well's courtyard was empty as if the world had stopped for my encounter with the H.A.G.
She handed me her cup again. I refilled it and gave it back to her. She sipped the water like she would enjoy tea at a street cafe and all morning to enjoy it.
Smiling, she stared into my eyes. The teacup spun on her finger. The only sound, for an extended moment, was within the well contraption. The chain creaked as the bucket returned to its starting position within the well contraption.
In the stillness, in a voice of pure notes, the H.A.G. chirped;
"Spring Guild girl
with golden curls and emerald eyes,
for every audible resonance you make,
a cascade will be your bounty."
When she enunciated the 'ty' on the word bounty, the sounds of the world returned. I could hear girl's shoes clatter on the cobblestones street, carrying empty buckets, heading towards the well.
She placed the silver teacup into a carpet bag, opened her parasol, and swung it over her head at just the right angle to shield her from the morning sun. She strolled down Rose Lane.
Picking up the full bucket, I walked home in a daze and could scarcely believe I had spoken to a H.A.G. The stories told to children about H.A.G.s were frightening. These women stole naughty children from their beds to use in their experiments to create gold or some horrible magic potion. They were always described as old and disfigured from years of experimentations. I found this odd because of the Aphrodite part of the name. The H.A.G. at the well certainly personified Aphrodite with her stunning beauty.
***
My stepmother's voice greeted me as I walked into the kitchen garden. "Gerty, I thirst. Where is that bucket of water? You have been gone for hours."
The errand had taken the usual twenty minutes to get the water even with helping the H.A.G.
I responded automatically with, "Yes, Good Mother Springflat."
After each word, a sparkling stone popped out of my mouth!
I touched my tongue and then bent to pick up the pebbles. There in my hand, I held what looked to be an emerald, a diamond, and a small piece of gold.
My stepmother walked toward me and yelled, "What are you eating?"
At the sound of her voice, I stood up with the gems sparkling in my hand.
Good Mother Springflat attracted to the glimmer, took them from my hand.
"Gerty. Where did these come from? Were they in your mouth making you sound like a warbling bird? Why?" She stopped asking questions and bit the chickpea-sized gold chunk. The nugget took on an impression of her tooth.
I scrunch my face in disgust as she did this. The nugget had been on my tongue and on the ground.
"I was..." I stopped speaking. Two more gems popped out. Stepmother picked up a ruby and another emerald.
"Prattle on, Gerty." She stared at the wealth in her hand.
Usually, chatting with my stepmother consisted of her commanding me and my reply of 'Yes, Good Mother Springflat', 'No, Good Mother Springflat,' or 'I'm sorry it took me took me so long, Good Mother Springflat." Telling her a story had never happened.
While I recounted my tale of meeting the H.A.G. I concentrated on the sensation of speaking and the pebbles forming.
Every jewel and gold stone felt odd when they formed in my mouth. When I spoke a word, it was as if a cold and hard tooth grew in the middle of my tongue. The second it appeared in my mouth, my tongue would propel the stone out at the end of each word.
Good Mother Springflat spent the whole time I told the story picking up the gems as they tumbled. I watched stones bounced off her while she turned to gather them up. A giggle started to well up within me, and if I continued to watch her scramble to pick up each gem and piece of gold, I wouldn't be able to contain my laughter. I stared at the sky for the rest of the tale and conjured a sad image to help me suppress the urge to giggle.
I wondered if I had laughed what would happen to the spewing of jewels? What would Good Mother Springflat do? If she was mad at me, she liked to stomp on my foot. She slapped me once. When my father saw the mark on my face, he was angry about it and forbade Good Mother Springflat from touching me.
When I'd finished, she gathered the last of the jewels and pebbles into her apron. "Quite a story, Gerty. A real H.A.G., with a shriveled apple guild pin, left her lab, Gerty? Came to town in daylight, Gerty? A young H.A.G! If it weren't for the curse of gems and gold, I would say you were lying, Gerty."
She often ended each sentence she spoke to me with her version of my name. My name is actually Eliza. I'm not sure how she got Gerty out of Eliza. Gerty must be the stepmother form of Eliza.
Once all the Gertys left my ears, the word curse echoed through my thoughts. "H.A.G. curses are real, Good Mother Springflat?"
She picked up four more jewels. "Of course H.A.G curses are real. Did you think the tales were just to keep children on their best behavior? Pfft, obviously, your mother didn't tell them right, or your behavior would be better." Before my thoughts had a chance to work through the idea of having a H.A.G. curse, Good Mother Springflat went back into the house and yelled to me from inside, "Bring in the well water and pick the lettuce."
Without questioning her command, I picked up the bucket and entered the house. I grabbed the basket for vegetable gathering and walked to the garden to pick the greens. The words, 'H.A.G. Curse' repeated over and over in my mind. I questioned in what way would gems and gold be a curse.
Curiosity and the idea of experimentation entered my thoughts. What would happen if I sang, laughed, or cried? How did the jewels and nuggets form? How had the H.A.G. created the curse, or should I call it a gift? In the H.A.G.'s poetic farewell, she called it a bounty. A curse which was a bounty? Rewards were never mentioned in the stories.
I stopped picking lettuce. "Whoop!" I exclaimed. How exciting! I meet a H.A.G, and she cursed/gifted me with wealth. Finally, something different from my daily life of spring making and chores. A large sapphire sparkle from amongst the leaves of the lettuce from the 'whoop'.
All right, I thought, let's experiment with the curse. The first experiment I tried was singing.
"Hey, ho, and a nanny no." Gold and gems tumbled to the ground. This was no different than if I had said the words. The stones in my mouth made the singing sound terrible though. I put the gems and gold in the cloth pocket hanging from my belt.
Laughter, what would laughter create? I laughed. Through the strangled laugh, a fountain of gold pebbles fell to the dirt. I laughed again. Emeralds hit the ground. How interesting I thought and noted laughter didn't produce a mixture of stones and gold but one single type of either gems or gold.
What would I do with this wealth? I questioned while putting the emeralds and nuggets in my pocket.
The lettuce was picked, and I looked at the rest of the garden to see what else needed tending and started to feel at ease with the curse. Who was I to deny a gift bestowed upon me from a H.A.G.? Perhaps, I was one of her experiments. Instead of questioning my fate, I decided to see what the curse might bring me.
I walked the paths looking at the growing vegetables and thought about H.A.G stories. The line from one of my favorite H.A.G. stories shouted in my head, 'You have been cursed by a H.A.G.' I laughed. Stooping to pick up the sapphires, I thought perhaps picking up dozens of small stones every time I uttered a sound was a curse. And, what would we do with this new wealth? My life was simple, and we really had all we needed.
In the story which contained that line, the curse the princess endured was she turned into a wild boar for a full hour after she smelled a flower. The King in the story wanted to protect his daughter from turning into a boar, so he had all the plants removed from the kingdom. Within a year, the people were on the verge of starvation. The princess, saddened by what her curse did to the kingdom, left and went to the desert. She hoped the king would bring back the plants, thus returning the kingdom to normal. Because of this story, I always wondered what it would be like to see the world through a boar's eyes.
It was a typical H.A.G tale. The bearer of the curse always making a huge sacrifice. There was never a counterspell to end the misery. Though, none of the H.A.G. stories had a bounty of wealth given to its bearer either. Would there be an end to my H.A.G. curse, I wondered?
I went inside to wash the lettuce and Good Mother Springflat swept through the kitchen dressed in her best dress, and she'd fixed her hair.
"Did you say anything in the garden, Gerty?" I shook my head no. I hoped she wouldn't look at my bulging pocket. "How rude, Gerty. Speak when being spoken to." She tapped her foot.
"No," I paused but continued with, "Good Mother Springflat."
She picked up the four gems and put them in her embroidered-going-to-town pocket, "I have an errand to run. If you speak while I am gone put the jewels and gold in the spice box. And, get to work on that flat spring order." She paused and added, "You might want to tell yourself a story out loud while you work. It will make the time go faster." Her eyebrows went up when she thought of this, and the smile across her face was maniacal.
She left out the front door.
I mumbled once the front door was shut, "Yes, that's what I always do while I work. I tell myself a story, out loud."
My mouth filled with stones making words even more of a mumble. At least, I didn't have to pick them up. Now, I knew mumbling kept the stones from propelling from my mouth. I spit them out and put them in the spice box because my pocket couldn't handle anymore.
After I washed my hands, I went to my workbench to start the simple order of small watch springs. I loved creating flat-springs. My father, Good Father Springflat, made springs for large mechanical devices and medium ones for clockworks.
My mother learned how to wind the metal into flat-springs by watching him and refined the technique for delicate small flat-springs. Her springs were especially pretty.
The fashion for ladies in Pembria was to trim a bodice or a pocket with the delicate pieces of metal. A dressmaker saw her work and decided to incorporated flat-springs into the embroidery design of a dress which was worn to a ball. The fashion changed from metal bits on a bodice to pieces and parts from watches or clocks decorating the latest dress styles. My mother's flat-springs were in demand.
I worked the metal thinking of mother which led me to think about my brother. He is now an apprentice in a goldsmith's shoppe. He tried to be a good son and create flat-springs, but he wanted to work with gold. He said he dreamed of gold spoons, gold goblets, and gold jewelry. This was an odd wish because most boys in Pembroke dreamed of inventing steam engine gadgets.
I thought how marvelous this curse was. I could spew gold for my brother. He would need a good pile, so I decided to talk to myself as my stepmother suggested. A childhood poem came to my mind. I recited it as I worked the metal ribbons into flat-springs. The gold and gems tumbled next to my workbench.
The work usually cleared my head and calmed my thoughts, however, this time my head filled with anger. "How dare my stepmother call me Gerty! How dare she take the jewels and gold which came out of my mouth. The HA.G. gave me the ability to spew gems and gold when I spoke. Shouldn't the wealth belong to me?"
Taking a deep breath, I went back to reciting the poem and wound the brass. But, my anger grew towards my stepmother. She never tried to learn how to create even the simplest of flat-springs, leaving my father and me to do all orders. I stopped reciting and screamed, "You are an ogre, Good Mother Springflat."
The ground around me was littered. The blue, red, yellow, and gold sparkled and caught the sunlight from the window. The mosaic of light and color was beautiful, and it was hard to comprehend the amount of wealth that laid on the floor.
On my knees, I ran my hands over them feeling the sharpness of the gems and the smoothness of the gold. In the distance, the whistle for the eleven o'clock train took me out of the trance. Thinking my stepmother would be back at any moment, I picked up and separated the gold pebbles from the jewels. The gold I placed in a box and hid it under my bed. The rest I put in the spice box. I hoped it would be enough wealth to keep her happy.
In the front room where the shoppe is, I heard a rattling at the door. My father had made an intricate flat-spring device to open the shoppe door. I warned him that people would find it difficult to open.
"Eliza," he said, "it is quite simple. Just pull this lever, and it opens."
Most people can't find the lever because of the ornate workings. When I opened the door, a barrage of chatter from a well dress patron filled my ears like a young girl telling me about her first sale on market day.