The Last Philosopher

Just things

Currently editing

The next day was Saturday. Herschel had convinced Charlene they shouldn't work during the weekend. Except for church days, most Agalians worked every day. He tried to make a case for a four day workweek, but she wouldn't even consider it. Even if she agreed it would set a good example for many too hard working townsfolk, which she never considered included her.

"Remember you agreed you would try to relax," he shouted before closing the door to HC's, it was not something Charlene was good at.

Not that he was one to talk, he was going to see Ms Skvosip, and the visit wasn't entirely work unrelated. He had a deep respect for the ladyship, a moniker he used without even a hint of irony, but he never bothered to knock when coming to the front door. Instead just stepping in and yelling, 'anyone home?' Like an old friend.

He hadn't told anyone, except Attercap herself, that their first meeting in the jail had been was one of the great moments of his life. More than one veil had been lifted from his eyes. He had learnt things that should have been obvious before, and he was more grateful than he could express.

"Sir?" Patrick turned up behind him in the hallway as always.

"Is she in the tea parlour?"

"Yes sir."

"Great, you sit down for a while, it's Saturday. I know the way."

Patrick looked offended at the idea that he might need to sit. Still, even if the man was Ms Skvosip's confidant and more, Herschel preferred to speak to her alone.

"My Lady," he bowed in the entrance waiting for her to reply.

"Oh stop and sit down will you?" Ms Skvosip protested, but she was secretly pleased.

"So, have you got any good gossip for me?" Something Herschel would never ask anyone else.

Sitting all prim and proper, Ms Skvosip allowed him to pour her some more tea, before telling him the rumours of the day. In her role as Agalaland's crone, she knew most things worth knowing. But from around town, she knew everyone and everything. Including who might be in need of his help. There were more than a few who wouldn't ask, out of pride, vanity, or in rare cases fear. So, he was going to start making house calls.

Attercap had been telling him who needed help since their first meeting, and Herschel would show up asking them to help him. For some reason he couldn't understand, the same people who never asked for help would give you the shirt off their back if you asked. And while they were helping him, he would sneak in some advice about their troubles.

"There's one more thing," he said after she'd gone through her list. "You're not the only wise woman are you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you neglected to tell me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was safer if you didn't know. A secret only stays secret as long as you keep it to yourself."

"Ah, of course, I understand. But you know I won't tell anyone?"

"I know you will try your very, very best not to." For a second the old woman looked like she wanted to give him a pat on the cheek. Like a dotting grandmother might.

"Well, I better be off, no rest for those trying to do good," he said a bit embarrassed.