Gears, ratios, coils, steam, clockwork, keys and rails; it all came naturally to me as reading was to a poet. The comprehension of something complex was always interesting to someone like me. I love to study the ins and outs of gadgets, machinery, firearms and other sorts of things I could tinker with. No one would ever really complain though, they would get their things in one piece or another better than it had been previously.
Flaws in creations are an eyesore. Why would someone be so careless to leave so many in something they hold so high. To call a work of art complete without a finishing touch to seal it all together was ridiculous.
I suppose my love for tinkering all began about ten to fifteen years ago. I was still young then and I was just wed. My new wife came to love me quickly, despite the arrangement, and admired my talents as much as I hoped she would. After some years later she started to become jealous of my work, claiming that I didn’t give her attention, didn’t love her anymore. She even said once, “If you actually loved me, you would get your head out of the clouds and back onto what was important”, My work is important. I provided for her, she spent as much money as she liked; I put food on the table, gave her a daughter and a son to call her own, and even took care of the expenses. She even asked for a pet parakeet and I succumbed to it even though I have a loathing for birds. She had all she ever wanted, my lovely Lenoire, yet she wanted more so more I gave to her.
Through dull sky and stormy nights she was always there radiant as ever, always bringing the sun to the darkest of days. My children played and loved to learn, even my daughter took up playing with gadgets to try to understand how they worked. Everything seemed to be going along perfectly until the parakeet died. Then there was another episode. Her depression was unbearable, staying in her room for long nights leaving me to take care of the children. It was then, late one night while I was working on Thomas McGregor’s pocket watch, when I had the idea. Abandoning my project I quickly drew up plans and begun my work. It only took half a day to figure out all the details and another day to withstand my criticism.
I was proud of myself, a mechanical bird, who would have thought it? It chirped, fluttered its’ wings, hopped about and was even colored like her parakeet was. I left it for her outside of her room while I left to deliver my completed works to their owners. A smile on my face and a skip in my step, I had turned a bad situation around.
Only to return home to the most horrendous site I ever beheld in my life. The front door was knocked off of its’ hinges, the windows were broken, random valuables scattered about the floor, lamps and china shattered. Someone had invaded my home. Stunned I dropped my bag and dashed about the house looking for my dear wife and the children. But they were no where to be found. I could only find a scrap of my daughter, Jane’s, dress hem on the staircase.
Something inside of me told me it would be alright. I contacted the authorities and while they worked I stayed out of their way, turned and decided to go do some work of my own to keep my mind busy. I have been here awaiting a reply, some clue as to who did this or why meanwhile building the best thing I could have ever built for myself. I have never built myself something before and in a circumstance like this, I believe I deserve it.
– Edward D. Mandeville
Lenore, Where have you been? I work all day and expect my tea at noon like usual. She would sit across from me at the small round wooden table that sits in the nook of my study. That’s where I would take my breaks with her. Just to sip at tea and munch on fruits, cheeses, breads and the like while I would occasionally glance up at her angelic face. It was the little things in life that she did that made me adore her. All these things are different now, I suppose. She never did come back home from shopping. Or was she taking Jane and Vincent to practice? I can never remember the little things when I have been working long hours.
I adore my children even though I never really have time for them. They do, however, appreciate the times I do get to spend with them. This is probably because I spoil them with treats and trips that I will not allow my wife to give. Children need discipline, without it they have no guidance or respect for their parents. I refuse to let my children walk over me and waste their lives without a value on a proper education. Dear Jane takes painting, piano, singing and etiquette classes. She is such a talented flower, each class she takes with such grace and eagerness, which brings a tear to eye when you watch her recitals. She has a determination that burns like fire when you look into her eyes. Such a domineering little angel for being so young; she will bring out the best in any man she chooses when she grows older.
Vincent is a light that will never burn out, but burn brighter as he grows. He is a couple of years older than his sister and yet he treats her as an equal to him. I could never really understand this, but I suppose the times are changing. He is learning to be a man currently he takes two foreign languages, etiquette and goes hunting with his uncle on weekends once a month (I never was any good at those things). From what I have heard he is getting pretty good with his archery, a proud and decent sport that. I, personally, teach him the ways of comprehending arithmetic and economics. He couldn’t learn these things from his mother, because she is a woman and does things a different kind of way than a man. Regardless, he will be a brilliant businessman one day and I am proud to call him my son.
Their schooling is paid for and their lives are set. The two of them just have to make it through these few small trials and they can start their own families. I have only set aside a little money for the tuition at their colleges but if they plan it out carefully they won’t need it. The money can go to my lovely wife when I pass. But enough about my children, here is my tea? That confounded woman! I bet you she is having one of her episodes again.
Well, that is something. I went to go check on my tea and the house is empty. There were things tossed about as if in anger. I find that very strange, as I didn’t hear a sound, not even from the bird. Wait, the bird died, I’ll need to review my notes; I seem to be confused on what day it is again.
– Edward D. Mandeville
We were in the sitting room alone; she shyly glanced up at me and averted her eyes quickly when she saw me staring. A small smile played across my face as she fidgeted with her dress as we sat in silence. Lenoíre… She was to be my wife, it had been arranged by our parents, and I was 19 and she 15. I was a tad too old to have any marriages arranged. I am considered a man by now and able to choose my own bride. Since I was just out of school, it only made sense for my family to take over.
She had golden tresses that fell into her face now and again as she moved, which she would quickly brush away. I tried talking to her a couple of times, but it would seem she would have nothing of it. She gave me short responses, if any at all and would nod or shake her head if necessary. I would think she didn’t like me if it weren’t for her slight blushes and stifled giggles. This told me she was nervous, but I had no idea why. She shouldn’t be nervous around me, I am not hideous and I find myself to be charming enough. I suppose it’s the idea of settling down with someone and being on her own that frightens her. Maybe it was the thought of being on her own with someone she hardly knows.
The silence was an overwhelming, stifling blanket that covered the room to a point of asphyxiation. Our fathers walked into the room and I jumped to my feet, perhaps a tad too quickly. Lenoíre giggled quietly to herself and it brought a smirk to my stern face. My father gave me a disapproving look and nodded as my smirk melted away from my features. She followed me soon after and stood gracefully but shaken. Her father gave her an approving look and one that was to encourage bravery and love. Although the situation, in itself was awkward, it was like the first breath of fresh air, relieving and beautiful.
The wedding itself was exquisite, in my opinion; she had everything she could ever want. She was of simple mind and didn’t want anything extravagant. Her family could afford it if she wanted it though. She didn’t come from a small unknown family. She had some importance to her, which was a reason why I was marrying her. With the two families combining it was made into an arrangement of sorts. Both become profitable in the end, combining also the businesses our family owned. She wanted lilies, white roses and a sprinkling of spring flowers for the floral arrangements, simple finger foods for the reception and a nice light sparkling cider. With the flowers in her hair, the perfect gown to suit her figure and the dainty shoes that made her stand straight and tall like a ballet dancer – she was the picture of a goddess.
Nothing could separate me from her at that moment and her name always echoes in my heart; she belongs to me and me alone. I acquired all the necessities to make her life easier for the transition and continue to give to her what she needs and desires. She bore me two beautiful children and has done nothing but good for me. She makes me my meals, makes sure I keep to my schedule, and takes care of everyone if we take ill. She is a saint in my eyes and no one can tell me different.
Not until recently has she had her episodes, I can’t figure out why or how she had come down with such fever. She erupts as if she had been abused for years and had enough. The tantrums are as if she were pregnant again and had no control over her emotions. I don’t know what to make of it and the stubborn woman refuses to see a doctor.
– Edward D. Mandeville
I have lived here in Barbaroy for most of my life. From the beginning, my parents have made a life for themselves in finance and starting their own advisory company. Growing under their guidance and instruction brought me not only closer to them, but also learning to respect and admire them. They came from nothing and grew into something more. I can only wish to accomplish as much as they have in their lifetimes. They helped me through my schooling and I graduated with honors. College was a breeze, I thought it would be somewhat of a challenge, but it seems as though I have more smarts than I was given credit for. It was about time I was paid my due because with the honors program under my belt, I landed a blasted good occupation. I don’t work for my father, although I could at any time, he has welcomed me to the opportunity many a time.
I never chose any other lifestyle that had been laid out before me. There are several roads I could have taken. Like the many winding streets throughout the city, any decision can be overwhelming. Persistence and the want to learn was a thing that was driven into me since birth, it seems. I wanted nothing more than to go to school to learn, build and grow as an engineer, a father, a husband and lastly – a person.
When I was a young boy, I was offered to go and join a group of children that had been mischievous in nature. They caused all sorts of trouble around the city, but I would have none of it. I didn’t offend them in any manner, just told them matter-of-factly that I was going to attend and complete school. Of course they responded with jokes and pranks for a while about how stupid I was for choosing the “girl’s way out”, or what have you. Those actions all come natural to any child when it comes to maturing, in my opinion.
The Barbarodian cityscape is all I’m accustomed to. I fear that if I were to leave the city, I would feel homesick or perhaps lost without the normal jagged edges of the buildings in the horizon. Or the smokestacks of the factories that line the city or the bustling streets that I am so fond of. The noise and flow of Barbaroy works together, bred as if it were a factory or a clock itself. The puzzles and gears within itself moving bringing light itself to Xadune. Without our beautiful nation, I fear the world would be lost. We are bred as geniuses. Not to offend, but I do believe that we hold, somewhat, more power than the rest of the nations. Perhaps that is just the way of thinking here.
We engineers, don’t think much anything else besides our work.
Speaking of, I wonder what happened to that bird. I bet Lenoire forgot to take care of it and it broke. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that woman. Then again, I don’t know what I would do without her. She does, on the other hand, she does cause a ruckus.
– Edward D. Mandeville
The heat in Barbaroy is excruciating sometimes, so unbearable that you hardly want to move. But move we must to accomplish our goals and show the world what we, Barbarodians, are made of. We constantly strive to be the best and that’s what we have proven to the world. We make the best things and provide excellent service.
My father owned this clock shoppe for the longest time. His father started it when he was just reaching maturity and they had been moving forward like a Greachen merchant vessel. Making progress and thinking of new and intriguing ideas to apply to their works. I, on the other hand, have had the opportunity of helping my father all of these years and had learned from, what I consider to be, the best. He sold his company either before I was borne or when I was too young to remember its’ existence.
From what I have heard, the business made him a large profit, which had helped him and my mother open up their financial advisory company called “The Merchant’s Till” They provide loans, help those in need get on a stable budget and meet their financial deadlines/goals. Being extremely proud they tell stories about the little clock shoppe that could and succeeded. If you put your mind to it, anything is possible, or so they say.
It has been very cold in the house as of late. Not because of the weather, because that is quite opposite. It is lonely and it is starting to get dank, I think. Maybe if the children and my wife would come home things would be different. The house would be more active than it is and all of the bustling would make things livelier.
But unfortunately, they have not, as of yet and I am beginning to worry. I don’t know how long it has been because my projects keep my mind focused on only that one thing, forgoing eating or sleeping some times to get minor things accomplished. Although, I do believe, that this is my greatest project in my entire career. Regardless if others wish to purchase it, it will make things more bearable at home.
– Edward D. Mandeville
Oh, look how pathetic these writings are… Memoirs to express his feelings and his love for me… To think that I had wasted so much time with a man who took so much effort into ignoring his family, “for the greater good of his creations”. Bastard… I have become more stoic than anything else, I believe, due to the circumstances in which I have been through. The children are fine without their father and I have managed without him doting on me or taking care of this family since day three.
Although, it seems that there are other issues that have stirred the pot while he had been on his rampage of recreating our family… It seems as though a group of people had caused some mischief within Barboroy and some of these people were of… ill repute within our land…well to us anyhow, as I don’t know them personally, that I’m aware of.
I wonder what happened to all of the politics?
-Lenoire Mandeville
