Skeletons of The Heavens

The Assistant

    

And so Ellenora was taken to the studio, given a leather bound journal, a pencil and a lantern. 
      Ellenora now knew the name of the nautical instrument perched on the tripod. It was a sextant. She would not have to ask Hilary after all. Good!
      They stepped out onto the widow walk balcony underneath a clear night sky packed with stars. Mr. Hollenburg set up the sextant tripod, peered through the eye piece and then had Ellenora use the lantern to read the measurements and jot them down.
        Ellenora dutifully and silently completed the task. They then stepped back inside the studio. Mr. Hollenburg lit more lamps. Out came the star charts, draft paper, drafting tools, a mathematical slide rule and plenty of pencils strewn all over the table. 
      Mr. Hollenburg worked the numbers quickly and although Ellenora was considered above average in arithmetic, she simply was not able to follow.  But she was somehow captivated watching him work, knowing that she was witnessing the absolute beginnings of something truly extraordinary. Like the birth of a galaxy, or maybe even a universe.
And the calculations continued, in what seemed a pattern. He'd spend time over a rolled out star chart with the small leather bound journal in his hand, then taking what looked like a compass with two solid points instead of one point being a pencil. He measured between two points of the chart, compared it to the written number in the book, measured again, then wrote a number down just beside the one in the journal. He did this with all the numbers she wrote down.
Mr. Hollenburg finally stopped and stood over the chart, hands on hips. Seeing this as a pause in his work, Ellenora ventured to ask.
"How do you know I was correct with my numbers?"
He looked at her where she sat, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. "It simply did not occur to me that they could be incorrect."
"It would just be awful if I wrecked it all with just one wrong number. I'm sure precision is all important."
"Yes, it is. But, if anything, I feel they are even more accurate than even my own readings."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. When I do my own reading, I'm constantly having to take my eye off the sky, to jot them down. With you doing it for me, it makes the process go a lot smoother."
Ellenora lay a hand at her breast and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. Good. I was being extra careful."
"I know." Mr. Hollenburg said simply, taking a seat across from her. He plucked up a pencil and the slide ruler and began some calculations involving functions Ellenora had only seen while thumbing through advanced calculus texts.
She watched, mesmerized as he filled two sheets of draft paper front and back with computations. They had remained silent for the better part of an hour when Mr. Hollenburg paused, sat down the pencil and slide rule, relaxed back in his chair and massaged his overworked right hand with his left.
"Would you be interested in becoming my personal assistant while I'm here?"
Ellenora stared at him and then blinked, finding her voice. She wanted to answer 'Yes' immediately, but there was a lot to consider. The school term had just ended, but then there were her chores for her father's company.
Again, Ellenora sat up straight, squared her shoulders and set her jaw, her mother made over. Her eyes stayed on his face. "And what would being an assistant to a scribe require?" she asked.
Mr. Hollenburg shrugged, then took off his eyeglasses to clean them with a clean linen handkerchief. "Many scribes take on an assistant, many times a novice. I've never had one, so I am not too sure what scribes require of their assistances, to be honest. I suppose keeping pencils sharpened and paintbrushes clean and tidy." He then grinned, his sparking blue eyes piercing. "Make sure I don't starve by bringing up tea."
Ellenora looked behind her at his bed and the wardrobe in the far dark corner. "But who would make sure your linens are laundered? I could make sure it goes down. Mother hates doing laundry, so it's the one true luxury she has sending it out twice a week. Even the bedding comes back pressed."
"Sounds good. I'll compensate for the service." he replied, replacing his cleaned eyeglasses back on his face.
Ellenora nodded. "And what will be MY compensation?"
"How much does your father pay you for your chores?"
"30 Corse a week, but it's just making sure the windows and counters are clean. Father said he'd start teaching me some basic accounting this holiday also."
"Sure there would be time for you to assist me, then?"
"I'll make time. . . for the right price." Ellenora replied, rather enjoying this adult banter with him.
Mr. Hollenburg chuckled. "Very well. How about 30 a week from me, to go along with your father's salary?"
60 Corse a week was more than some adults made in the same amount of time.
"Plus bonuses." he added.
"Bonuses?"
"I like going to the symphony and sometimes the opera. If you'd like and your parents approve, then I'll be sure to have a ticket for you when I go."
Ellenora stared at him, her mouth open, but then she closed it again, and cleared her throat delicately. "I would enjoy going to the symphony and the opera. Thank you."
"Very well, then that's settled. You can begin tomorrow. I keep late hours and sleep til a good 10 here in the beginning of the process. I'll eat from the baskets for now and have tea at around 4. At 10:45 pm, I'll do another star reading, and would like you to assist with that again. The rest we'll just play by ear."
"Yes, sir," Ellenora answered.
"Novice assistants call their scribes 'master', but you are not a novice scribe. Calling me Mr. Hollenburg sounds too cumbersome for the one speaking it and the one hearing it. I'd much rather you refer to me as I refer to you, so feel free to call me Petrich."
Ellenora paused, then answered. "Alright. Petrich. But not around my parents. They might think I'm being disrespectful."
"Good idea." Petrich agreed.
"Just call me Nora, then. But again, not around my parents. I am named after my father's late mother."
"I understand. Past time for you to go to bed, Nora. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
"Good night, Petrich. Thank you for the opportunity to assist you."
He smiled at her then returned to his calculations.
Before creeping downstairs to her room, she slipped off her shoes and treaded lightly until she was inside her own room. She simply sat on her bed and stared out into the darkness, knowing she would not be able to sleep any time soon.