The Devil's Opera(26)
Aware that he was almost gaping at her, Simon tore his gaze from the young woman and crammed the last of his bread into his mouth. He looked around the room as he chewed the bread, and noticed the traces of mud that he and Hans must have tracked in last night. “Um,” he started, then strained to swallow the wad of bread in order to clear his mouth. “Do you have a broom?”
“In the corner,” Ursula pointed. She had set her plate on the table next to her, and removed a bundle of cloth from a bag sitting beside her chair. Unfolding it carefully, she pulled a needle out of the cloth and started sewing.
Simon stood and crammed his feet into his wooden shoes. They were cold, and he shivered at their contact. He walked over to the corner and picked up the broom, then turned to address the dried mud.
It took him a few moments to find the balance of the broom. That was always a bit of a challenge for him. But he was sweeping away before long.
Simon decided that as long as he was sweeping, he might as well do a job of it, so he swept the entire room. He was well begun when Ursula spoke.
“Is your other arm hurt?”
He felt his cheeks flush a bit. “No. It’s useless.”
“An injury?”
“No. It’s always been like this.”
“Did Hans bring you here because of that?” She looked up with a frown.
“No…at least, I don’t think that was the only reason.” Now she had a quizzical expression on her face. “He calls me his luck.”
Ursula chuckled, and now it was Simon’s turn to feel confused. “My brother, for all that he is hardheaded about most things, is surprisingly superstitious. If something is lucky to him, he’ll keep it around until it absolutely wears out and falls apart.”
“Well, I hope that doesn’t happen to me.” They both shared a laugh over that comment.
Simon swept around the room, brushing all the dirt toward the outside door. He built the pile with care, then opened the door and swept it all outside onto the landing. It was the work of a moment to sweep the dirt off the landing, then he returned inside and placed the broom back in its corner.
“Do you have a family, Simon?” Ursula asked from where she was plying her needle.
“No, Fraulein Metzger.”
Her laugh rang out. “Please, call me Ursula. You make me feel like an old maiden aunt.” The smile left her face. “Not that I won’t be an old maid someday. No one will marry a cripple.”
Simon sat down on his stool. “Me neither.”
“So what happened to your family?”
“Mutti and Vatti died before the soldiers came, along with my little brother Johann. The pastor came and put me in a family to foster me, because I had no uncles or cousins to take me in. That was okay, I guess, but then the soldiers came and we had to leave.”
“That’s when I got hurt.”
“Hans told me last night.”
Ursula sighed. “He would. He gives no thought that I might like some things to remain private.” Sigh again. “Brothers.”
“Anyway, when we came back, they didn’t want me anymore. The pastor tried to find me an apprenticeship, but no one wants a one-handed apprentice. Especially a left-handed one. He found me another family to take me in, but they were hateful folk, so I left. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
“So what do you do?”
“Whatever I can. I can carry messages and small packages. I can watch over things. I can sweep.”
“You seem to be surviving.”
“I do okay.”
Simon stood up, restless all of a sudden. He wandered around the room, looking at different objects, wondering what it was like to be able to pay for rooms like this, and have your own things in them. His path took him by Ursula’s chair, where he looked at what she was working on. He discovered she wasn’t sewing, she was embroidering.
“That’s pretty,” he remarked.
“Thank you,” Ursula replied. “It’s a good thing I like to embroider, since that’s about all I can do to earn money.”
“Someone pays you to do this?”
“Oh, yes. I work mostly for Frau Schneider, seamstress for many of the best families in the city. Sometimes I’ll do something for someone else, but Frau Schneider keeps me pretty busy.”
Simon watched her for a while, watched the precise stitches being placed just so, watched as a bit more of the pattern was revealed. “I wish I could do something like that.” His voice was very wistful. “To be able to make something beautiful, that would be…wonderful.”
Ursula looked up at him. “Perhaps someday you will.”
“Not with only a left hand I won’t.”