Angela's contribution:
He could see a couple were missing and assumed he'd unusually left them on site yesterday. Then as he went to climb in the cab he heard the sound of metal on stone - unmistakable to his practised ear. It was coming from somewhere in the forest, not too far away. Curiously he walked quietly between the trees and saw the hunched figure of a young, very scruffily dressed boy, engrossed in his work, chipping at a piece of stone.
'Hey', he said and the boy jumped, springing up and clutching the tools to him.
'What do you think you're doing and with my tools you young thief'!
'Please guv, I didn't mean no 'arm I was jess practisin. Saw you doin' it last week when you was round our 'ouse workin.'
'Ah yes, I remember, you were watching, till your dad boxed your ears and sent you packing.'
I've left 'im and I ain't never goin' back. He's always 'itting me.
Since me mum died it's been 'ell living with 'im.
I wanna learn what you do and maybe one day I can make stuff like you make, walls 'n that.
He looked at the boy, more closely now. He was thin with ginger hair and freckles. He had blue eyes, and his hands, though dirty, were well formed, almost artistic looking.
'Look boy, you have to be an apprentice and it takes years to get really skilled.'
'I don't care 'ow long it takes, an' you can teach me, don't need to go to no 'prentice place.'
He looked at the boy and felt a flood of sympathy, remembering his own parents and how they'd supported him when he was learning the trade, full of misgivings and fear.
He found himself saying,
'All right lad, you can stay here for a bit and I'll show you basics but you've got to have a heart for this job you know, a feeling for the stone, it isn't just a question of bashing it with a mallet.
The boy's face lit up and his whole frame seemed visibly to relax and soften.
'Ah fanks guv. I won't let yer down, you'll see!'
************
The cottage in the forest looked little changed in three years.
Still unkempt and with the old banger parked randomly to one side.
There was just one noticeable difference though. Sounds of talking and the odd chuckle emanated from the open doorway.
Then a young adolescent strode out can in hand and crouched down at the river's edge. He sluiced water on his face before filling the can and disappearing back inside.
The man appeared dressed ready for work and called to the lad.
'It'll be a late one today, we're out at Smith's farm, he wants the job done by nightfall'
'Ok guv', good job it stays light till gone nine in'nit'
The man smiled to himself and a feeling of deep satisfaction filled his being.
It had been worth taking a chance on the boy.
Even though it had meant selling his painting to fund the apprenticeship.
It turned out his inheritance had been worth several thousand pounds. When the first dealer he had seen, offered him peanuts he got a second opinion, rightly suspecting the first one to be corrupt.
As he watched the boy gather his own tools, carefully wrapping them in the cloth, he knew that his parents would have been more than happy to know they had inadvertently changed a life, enabling the boy to realise his innate creativity and for this precious skill to be handed down to the next generation.
The fact that he had acquired an apprentice, the best you could wish for, was just a bonus and one he valued more than he liked to admit.
'
Jackie's contribution:
"Slow Tom" had been condemned to prison several times. His father, the corrupt Sheriff of the town of Big Tree in Michigan saw to it that each time his beloved son was condemned he bailed him out or just set him free with no judgement. There were regular reports of aggressions, car theft and even rape reported to the Sheriff but each time he bailed his precious son out of prison - patted him on the back and said “don’t do that again son”. The town was well run, clean and the population wanted for nothing as the narcissistic Sheriff had money and didn’t hesitate to contribute personally to the welfare of the population with free school meals, bus trips for the elderly and a Christmas party with presents for the 5000 population in the town. In return the inhabitants turned their back on the Sheriffs son’s misdoings, slightly afraid, that if they complained the flow of gifts and good things for their families would come to a halt.
Slow Tom was a big lad of 6 foot. His nickname born out of a mental deficiency at birth, his hairy chest tufted out of his shirt and collar - he resembled a grisilly a big brown bear ready to swipe out to anyone that might be in his way and prevented him doing what he wanted. His job as forestier kept him out of trouble - most days.
But one man in particular was particularly careful to step out of Slow Tom’s way. Jamie and Slow Tom had been friends of a sort in school and when Slow Tom started to sell drugs when he was only 12 Jamie found him clients through his parents friends and they started a business together. By the age of 14 Slow Tom was dealing with dangerous people from other towns and they were starting to come into Big Tree and causing trouble. Jamie wanted “out” and Slow Tom made him promise that if he let him out of the deals Jamie would forget their relationship had ever existed, never cross him, talk about him or condemn him.
Unfortunately for Jamie his parents found out about their trafficking and dealings and went to see Slow Tom’s parents. Slow Tom was sent away to a reform school and never forgave Jamie thinking he had been the telltale. He vowed to do him or his family harm one day .. Jamie lived in apprehension but as the years went by his marriage and children born he forgot about Slow Tom who eventually came home to Big Tree and set up house just next to Jamie’s farm. Slow Tom became a renown stonemason and when Jamie asked him to build a small house for his eldest daughter thinking that this was a way of healing their relationship Slow Tom accepted with verve. A few weeks into building the stone house, Jamie’s eldest daughter disappeared. Out for a walk with their dog she just never came back and despite search party’s calling out for her night and day the dog and herself were never found. Devastated, Jamie then sent his second youngest son to the city to see if his daughter had run away to live there but he never returned and Jamie plunged into despair shutting himself into his room, his only activity was painting a portrait of his lost daughter and son. On one Christmas morning when the family were usually full of joy the decorations up and the house smelling of turkey lunch Jamie roused himself to be with his family . Overnight there had been a big storm and he went outside to check on any damage done. The stone house, half built by Slow Tom had suffered considerable destruction. Upon getting closer to the crumbling walls - Jamie gasped at what he saw, fell to his knees and began howling and wailing; for there, protruding from the rubble he could see his daughters shoe that she had worn the morning of her disappearance - a dog collar embedded in the grass lay next to it…. Slow Tom watched from his farmhouse window a malicious triumph gleaming in his eyes.
Paula's limerick:
There once was a stonemason’s sad wife
Who made money by painting her strife.
In the forest one day,
A young knight came her way,
And said, “Paint me, and I’ll corrupt you for life!”
