Cold

Chapter 5: Growing Summer

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Author Says: This is a special chapter for a main character, Benji Dammen, that happened at the same time with Chapter 5: 'Growing Spring'. Some minor characters are introduced here, too.

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CHAPTER 5: Growing Summer

The main profit of District 12, Cyprus County was in a big Blacksmith’s stable— wooden walls on the outside, bricked in the inside, having 5 meters wide front door, floor of gravels and partly cemented, with blazing coals in a fire pit, a bellow lying on the surface, an anvil and forge tables at the center, a rack of charcoals dumped at the right side, and the biggest area filled with different rocks and raw metals ready to get drilled, trimmed, forged, and bend.

One old man named Saibara Lithos, the best blacksmith in the village, bald-headed with black turning white goatee, about four inches long from his chin and a mustache, was working on one of the forge table. Then this other man named, Arthur Foss, 47, with buzz hair, was hammering an iron on the anvil. The last one inside was this lad on the edge of being a teenager, was shoving more charcoals into the fire hole.

Benji Dammen was my name, 19 years old, crew-cut and a bit wavy, fit and about 5’10” tall, wearing now was a fit sando and black jeans and slippers. I was the only child of Levi and Nicole Dammen. My auntie told me that they died when I was 3 years old from an accident in the West Forest. It wasn't a problem because everybody in the village was my family. My father was a blacksmith, they said. He really loved making tools and stuff out of gold that they discovered when they were young. I thought it was his dream so I chose to work here and help Saibara and Arthur out.

My real passion was to bake breads and pastries. Nothing stopped me as I was also working at the village bakery, owned by Mr. Joe Mo, early in the morning, molding and baking. The excess products were always sent to the city.

Alice and Jane were my childhood friends. However, they made me feel weird sometimes, since the adults used to tease me that I was playing dolls with them. But I was sure that I’m secured and I never been confused in my whole life. There were only a few ladies in my own age around here and I didn’t think there's someone my type. I had been thinking and asking something to Saibara or Arthur almost every day...

“Hey Arthur...” I distracted him, dropped the shovel and leaned on the brick wall.

“What, kid?” he responded while still busy hammering iron, making every sound of the punch louder and louder.

Wiped my dry hand towel on my face and nape, “Do you think I would end growing up like you guys, with no wives or children??” I asked for the millionth time.

Arthur shook his head, laughing.

“Maybe yes, maybe no… You are always bothered with that question,” Saibara kiddingly answered.

I wrinkled my forehead, looking at them, spinning my towel like a chopper’s wing with my right hand. They were still breaking their bones out of these forged irons and rocks.

Arthur stopped for awhile, staring at me. “Kid, I know that I’m cursed, and ladies hated me. That’s why I married my hammer,” he said and put up his hot hammer directly close enough to his face, showing that he would kiss it.

I exhaled heavily with a serious face and put the towel on my right shoulder. Arthur looked at me smirking and shaking his head.

Just a while, Nolso Flicker, 42, a carpenter and son of Mr. Jeff Flicker and my older cousin Rupert Dammen, 30, a blacksmith too but he spent most of the time mining at the Rocky Plateau. They invaded the stable.