Demitri didn't get out much, or have any real friends to speak of. He had an older brother who loved him dearly, and so invited him over for dinner once a week. His weathered house was small, and their subsistence meager, but full of life. The warm glow of light and warmth emanated out the cracked and taped windows, casting warm rectangles out on the fresh winter snow in the distance, beckoning kinship, and a warm hearth that would never fail to give him hospitality.
The north winds howled about Demitri as he made his way up the street. The low tumbling roar of the faraway immense power generator, appearing as a gear of fantastic size always looming, churning in the distance.The sun began to sink behind the great gear of Lochshore, bringing down with it a curtain of blues, purples, and night. The glassblower kept the sun to his back as he hurried along to his brother's house, rubbing his hands together, thinking of warm curry, hot stew, fresh naan, thinking warm and pleasant thoughts to tide him over until he could escape the cold.
In the city of Lochshore, there was a never ending churn of machinery that never slept. In faraway and closer factories, pistons fired, furnaces roared, especially down in the industrial part of town where the working class poor and skilled hands made their craft. The amateur scholar considered himself lucky that he was able to escape a vocation that dragged him out in long hours late into the night. Their father had instilled in his sons at a young age, the only way to escape the slaving hard labor, the only way to get to a better life, was to learn a trade, learn it well, and make sure your hands were too skilled to be put to work in the mindless droning factories that made their empire of copper and steel keep turning. Then spend just enough to be comfortable, and hoard what wealth you can like your life depends on it, as it is your greatest shield to hardship in this world.
Artisans and skilled tradesmen were indeed far better off than everyday factory workers. Though even factory work was still a dream compared to the lot ascribed to those who couldn't keep up on their debts. Those that were found and thrown into the outliers, the floating, piss poor, privately owned island slums that were said to be one of the closest things to hell on earth in all of the Caelumnian Empire. There where the corporations, robber barons, and oligarchic bad seeds threw the unwanted, the poor, the plagued, the undesired, under the guise of an honest day's work, to work off their debts, but was more like a step above slavery. Once you are sent there, nobody can afford a ticket out. Once you were sent to the outliers, you were never seen again.
Demitri recalled his father telling them of their uncle who liked to gamble, he would warn them that if they were not frugal, were they not wise, they would end up just like their Uncle Arlo, taken away and worked until the end of their days, never to be seen again. Work hard, be realistic, be sensible, don't be foolish, and you will get by just fine. Demitri never had much in common with his father, but he couldn't deny he prepared him for the world as it was, and he could never disparage the man for that.
The Glassblower rejoiced inside as he lifted his head against the wind, squinting through the frost building on his glasses, making out the front doorstep of his brother's home. He sighed with relief as he anticipated regaining feeling in his fingers, as he took a cautious step on to the flimsy wooden stair that creaked with questionable integrity. The first step had always made him nervous that it was threatening to give way, any one of these visits, but had yet to do so. After conquering the first step he smirked with pride and proceeded up the next step without a care in the world before slipping on a deceptive layer of black ice on the second step that sent him flailing grabbing for the splintered plank of wood they used as a railing, nearly decorative in it's own integrity, tearing away from the stairs with great CRACK before he managed to steady himself just in time, and leaping to the safety of the first step. He knocked on the door before realizing that the broken off railing was still clutched in his hand and he looked to the left and right frantically as if a solution might appear in time before his hostess made it to the door, he looked to the bush beside where it normally stood before it had been wrenched from it's position, and he quickly leaned it up between the bush and the stairs, then blushed looking elsewhere, hoping his indiscretion would go unnoticed, as he whistled a jolly tune, feigning nonchalance just as the front door was opened.
"DEMITRI!!" A mighty booming voice seized him with great large muscular arms that smelled of sweat, soot and iron, and pulled him into a vice of an embrace with a laugh that shook the rafters. "How the hell are ya little brother!?" The owner of the voice said, as he ragdolled the tweed, portly young man around before setting him down and gave him what he would call a light pat on the back, but Demitri would call a thunder clap that stung to high heaven.
"Oh-h! You know!" The shorter man coughed out like he wasn't biting back the sting from the manhandling treatment from his affectionate older brother you'd think he would be accustomed to by now, still appreciating the warm welcome he took it like a champ. "The usual..!"
"Ah come come sit down Demitri," The voice that ran like ice down Demitri's spine made him flinch as it appeared right next to him. The woman gave a warm smile, before casting a judgemental side glance out the front door as she closed it, absolutely having seen the broken railing, much to the visitor's chagrin.
Nicolaus Baltimore paid this no mind, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder and walking him over the table with his innate bold, jovial demeanor that Demitri found endearing, if not a bit intense at times.
Nicolaus was a tall, broad, hairy man with great mighty arms, and bright blue eyes that always had a twinkle of life. He had a fairly groomed beard and an infectiously warm grin that was missing his upper right bicuspid tooth, which he believed enhanced his 'rugged good looks'. His often messy sweaty brown hair was tied back in with a do rag to absorb the perspiration from his laborious trade that he was very proud of. He was almost a mountain of a man but one of even greater spirit that was rough but fair, and always looking toward better times. A jovial blacksmith through and through.
"UNCLE 'MITRI!" A little scamp of a voice approached with quick plodding feet on the wooden floorboards and excitement in his voice. "What did you bring me!? What did you bring me!?" Exclaimed the little boy that ran into the visitor's leg with a thud and a laugh as he hung on Demitri's pantleg almost as cavalier as his father did 'round his shoulders.
"Clay," The woman's voice addressed the child sternly. "That's impolite," She told off the 5 year old sternly, with a furrowed brow. "Do not hang off him, he is not a jungle gym, he's your uncle and our guest. And don't beg for gifts, that's rude." The boy sighed and released his uncle, hanging his little head with dejection.
"Yes mama…" The little boy's voice mumbled.
"Thank you," she nodded in approval. Vlasta Baltimore was a loving, but stubborn and proud woman. She valued manners, and took her position as a housewife, mother, and a homemaker very seriously. She had black dark hair that hung in a long braid that reached down to her thighs, and deep brown skin, and a fire in her eyes that spoke to her passionate soul, (or others might say her unforgiving wrath,) and around the house often wore a sari, both a comfortable, practical and stylish dress, as well as a nod to her indian heritage of which she was very proud.
Demitri didn't quite understand what about this woman made his easy going, redneck older brother fall so hard for her at first. They seemed like complete opposites, she was always this serious, proud, stubborn, fiery, blunt person who was always unafraid to speak her mind. It took over the course of knowing her and watching them for years for him to begin to understand.
To his surprise their natures complimented one another. Nicolaus was used to working with rigid, fiery ingots of burning lava that took time and perspiration to coax into the form it was always meant to be. He was strong of course, as any blacksmith might be, but as rugged, burned, calloused and bruised his strong leathery hands were, their nature was gentle and precise. He worked with passion and poured love and light and pride into everything in his forge.
She was as untamable as any force of nature could be, nor would Nicolaus nor anyone else dare try. He was drawn to her fire, to her powerful outspoken ways that never minced words and said exactly what she meant to say, and would let you know in no uncertain terms how she felt. Nicolaus, while being a very capable craftsman, was very simple and earnest in his approach to people. He took folks as they were. This hulking man looked into her eyes that burned with passion brighter than any inferno he could ever find in his forge, and instantly fell in love.
He was a flexible, laid back, amiable fellow, with so much love to give. She was strong, unyielding in her core values, she knew what she wanted and she strove for it. Together, they built a family.
Their ramshackle house was modest, but chosen in service to the greater goals of saving up money for a home to suit the large family they always wanted.
"It's quite alright, quite alright," Demitri spoke up, tousling the young boy's hair as he pulled up a seat at the table and reached inside his coat for something and the boy could scarcely keep from bouncing on his toes in anticipation, which Nicolaus laughed at with great humor. Vlasta shook her head and muttered something in hindi as she let it go and continued setting the table for the meal she had spent the last few hours preparing. From his inner coat pocket the visitor had pulled out something he concealed in his palm, before putting his hand behind his back with a playful smirk.
"Alright pick a hand," He asked and the child giggled enjoying the game as he thought carefully, trying to peek around him unsuccessfully as he would playfully lean to block his view before the laughing child finally pointed to his right arm, which Demitri pulled from behind his back, reached out toward Clay, before he opened his palm which was empty.
The 5 year old stuck out his tongue, with a decided "Booo" Before he noticed his uncle had crept up on his left hand side holding a small, crude, glass dog figure he had made out of glass, which made the small child's eyes sparkle and squeal with delight as he grabbed it and examined it with great interest and excitement.
"It's a woof bark!!" He giggled with delight at the bulky, figure, with poor artistry in the execution, but sturdy and with rounded edges, made with durability in mind.
The two men at the table laughed and watched him examine his gift with affection.
"It isn't the most sophisticated, but I gave it a try," Demitri said modestly. "At least it's something other than small, very swallowable marbles…" he said with a bit of an anxious grimace, recalling when Vlasta had chewed him out for offering such an age inappropriate gift when Clay was smaller.
"Heyyy! I think it's swell, and he loved those marbles!" Nicolaus piped up with a snicker. "-Just took two days and a whole can of prunes to get the green one back!" he burst out laughing and dug his brother in the arm with his elbow. Demitri shook his head nervously and waved him away. "Not funny!! Not funny at all! I don't know who was having the bigger anxiety attack, me or Vlasta!!" The more timid brother exclaimed, but the blacksmith paid no heed.
"Hey!" He spoke between his guffawing. "Hey, remember when I dared ya to lick that shovel when we were kids??" he continued his laughter.
"Hey!! That wasn't funny either! I was really scared!! It was frozen stuck and I didn't know what to do!!" The tweed brother said in defense of his childhood distress. "And whenever one of us hurt ourselves dad would always-"
"Get out his pliers and act like he was gonna cut it off!"
"Get out his pliers and act like he was gonna cut it off!"
The brothers said at the same time before Demitri softened and they both started laughing together. Nicolaus wiped a mirthful tear from his eye as he caught his breath.
"Then you just panicked and ripped it off, and then you spoke with a lisp for the rest of first grade while the tip of your tongue grew back," He shook his head and snorted.
"Ha-haah! Oh man, there were so many times we could have died as kids," the younger brother laughed and shook his head. "Or like every year when we went sledding down that big hill, you kept smashing into the same tree every time, and every time you got hurt worse and worse? That tree was out to get you!" The blacksmith narrowed his eyes and lifted his glass with reverence as he declared,
"NEVER trust a hickory," he glared with vengeance in his voice.
There was a quiet moment before they both started laughing again and the elder brother poured him a drink and they continued to reminisce.
"You know I nearly peed myself when it knocked you out cold, and I thought you were dead! And the whole time I was working out a plan to tell mom how it wasn't my fault, but could I also have your side of the room now?" Demitri said with a devious snicker, and that made his brother grin with delight.
"Oooo-weee, we did some dumbass shit didn't we?" The elder brother leaned back in his chair with a faraway look in his eye, stroking his beard in thought.
"Who woulda guessed…" Demitri said, taking a drink and looking at his delighted nephew with a wholesome nostalgic smile.
"Ah times are good little brother," The blacksmith clinked his glass with his own. "When'r you gonna come up with a couple rugrats of your own?" He leaned on his hand with his elbow on the table. Demitri's ears turned read as he got flustered.
"Ohh, you know I'm not really a ladies man, I'm just, well," Demitri tried to muster while evading the question. Nicolaus smiled and shook his head.
"I know I know, I just think aboutcha sometimes, 27, all alone in that shithole apartment with your books and your cat, and I dunno, I guess I want more for ya, that's all," He shrugged.
"Hey it's not as big of a shithole as this place," The younger brother jeered as Vlasta came back from the kitchen looking unamused at the comment.
"What did you say about my house??" She said with a raised eyebrow and a fiery side eye, carrying in a tray with curry and rice and delicious home cooked food.
"N-nothing-! He started it!" He pointed at Nicolaus with some spook in his eyes, and the husband just laughed and nodded in agreement.
Vlasta held in a smirk as she put everything in its proper place, only slightly relishing the humour of Demitri's easily flustered nature.
"Oh, and is Zeke already asleep?" Demitri asked her, changing the subject to something more benign.
"No no no, not at all," She said, hiding a touch of pride in her children. "I was just about to go get him," She turned to retrieve the child before hesitating and reminding him, "NO MARBLES yes?" Demitri turned beet red and shook his head profusely in extreme embarrassment. She nodded her head satisfied before going to get the baby.
"Neither of you are going to let me live that down are you?" Demitri said sulking. Nicolaus beamed and shook his head.
"NOPE!" He grinned, showing off his missing tooth. "Hey man, you give my kid a choking hazard and us a heart attack for christmas, and we get the gift of laughing about it for the rest of your life," he nodded. "Fair is fair."
"I suppose I can't deny you that," Demitri shook his head and smiled.
Vlasta returned with their little baby Zeke, who had a bunch of black hair like his mama. Clay looked much like Nicolaus but with darker skin. He liked to laugh a lot just like his papa. They all sat together at the table and ate and visited and told stories. Demitri didn't have many people in his life, but he loved his brother and his family dearly, even if he was slightly intimidated by his wife. He knew in his heart that she was a devoted wife and mother that took very good care of her husband and sons, and she could make food that made his tastebuds sing, which he found himself quite fortunate to enjoy every week.
While sometimes his visits at their house could be loud, overstimulating, and exhausting; he wouldn't miss it for the world. He felt good after a couple drinks and a lot of laughter, discussion of current events and catching up with one another. Toward the end of the night, when Vlasta had gone and put the boys to bed, The brothers were at the cleared table chatting.
"So you sure there's nothing new with you?" The elder brother tried to suss out. "Somethin' aboutcha seems different lately.
Demitri thought for a moment whether or not to share about the incident with the mysterious stranger, and his bringing of books to the hospital since then. He almost told him but decided against it. He heard his fathers words ringing in his head, 'Dammit boy, you saved up all that cash, your whole savings just to throw it away and give it to some hobo on the street?! Didn't I teach you any sense boy?? We gotta take care of ourselves first!! Ain't nobody else gonna!' The glassblower knew his father's words were probably right. He probably was foolish, maybe it was all a big mistake or something…. Even so, he didn't feel regret. Something felt lighter in him. Maybe it wasn't what their father would have done. But it was his money and his choice to make. Despite everything he was taught, he felt right, and he didn't feel like explaining himself to anyone. Much less make his family worry about him. Besides, it felt a little good to have a secret that just belonged to him. A good deed is its own reward, he thought.
"Is it a girrrrl?" His brother raised an eyebrow and Demitri looked mortified and shook his head.
"No really! There's nothing new-!" He tried to explain but his brother just laughed and waved him off.
"I know I know, I just like fuckin' with ya," he laughed as Demitri gave him the midwestern Welp! I better get going! As they continued the conversation but moved toward the door.
"Okay, you be careful now, alright little brother?" The men exchanged an embrace and patted each other on the back.
"I will, it was good to see you," The spectacled brother smiled. "And don't let your kid eat the glass dog, cause at this point it's on you," He snickered and that made him smile.
"Don't be a stranger, alright?" Nicolaus said this warmly before exchanging their last waves before closing the door. Was there something a bit more sincere about the way he said that? Or was Demitri just tired? He sighed on the reliable step as he expelled a cloud of hot vapor into the frigid air, staring up at a thousand glittering icy stars in the sky as he lamented having to walk home in the cold.
He took care to step over the second stair covered in ice, then CRUNCH! There went the flimsy first step as Demitri flailed in panic before finding his balance on the ground, on the shards of what was the wood of their front stair.
"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Vlasta's fiery voice rang out from inside the house.
Demitri was already booking it halfway down the block shouting through sloppy breaths "ALRIGHT! GREAT VISIT! GOODNIGHT! LOVE Y'ALL!!!!" He exclaimed as he bounded with very poor running form, into the winter night.