The Carpenter's Gift by Hudson Aimless

     There was once a carpenter of some talent and little means. He made his way in the world by fixing roofs or mending doors or plows that had gone broken against large stones. He had a small home in which he lived and did his work and when the weather was good he would spend his time outside building tables to bring to market. And when the weather was harsh he would sit inside near the hearth and work at blocks of wood, turning them into small figurines.

     One winter evening while he was lying in bed a mouse ran among the floorboards and darted into his cupboard. "I will catch that mouse and teach him a harsh lesson!" thought the carpenter, and so he spent the next day building a trap. That night he setup his trap, which was a box poised above a piece of bread. Attached to the box was a string that lead to the carpenter's bed. He would wait until the mouse was under the box and eating the bread and then he would pull the string to trap it.

     And though he had drunk a cup of strong tea and stayed awake as long as he could, he never saw the mouse. In the morning he awoke with the string in his hand, but the bread had been taken. That night he again baited his trap and drank his tea and again he fell asleep without catching the mouse.

     On the third night he made a large pot of tea and stayed up even longer. Then, when he thought he could not stay awake a moment more he saw the mouse creep from under his bed and approach the trap. When the mouse was just starting to nibble the stale bread, the carpenter pulled the string and trapped him!

     The carpenter had been smart enough to cut a small hole in the top of the box just large enough for his hand and he quickly pounced on the box. He stuck his hand in the hole and took firm grip of the mouse, which he pulled out and prepared to throw him into the deep snows outside his door.

     "Wait!" Said the mouse. "Please do not hurt me. I only meant to steal enough bread that I may survive the winter," pleaded the small creature. The carpenter stopped short and looked down at the grey mouse in his hand.

     "It is not my place to support both you and me," conceded the carpenter, "I am too poor to feed another mouth, even one so small as yours. You see, I have neither children to play in my yard nor a wife to join me in song. I have not even a dog here to accompany me in the woods when I hunt."

     "But you needn't be poor," suggested the mouse. "If you show me mercy I shall tell you how you may be rich. And with riches you may gather as many children about you as you have teeth. With riches you may raise song with the most lovely of women. With riches you may keep a stable of fine hounds to ride with you through the woods for sport."

     The carpenter considered the offer. He gathered up his string and wrapped it around the mouse so that he could not run away and sat him down in the middle of the floor.

     "Therenow," he began, "I am listening."

     "You see," said the small mouse, struggling to breath within his restraints, "just beyond these great woods, in the direction of the sun's morning rise, lives a wealthy King who is very unhappy. For, though he is richer than all of the other Kings around he has no great craftsman to build him a proper throne. I have seen the chairs that you make and they are of good craftsmanship."

     "But," interrupted the carpenter, "they are plain and not such a thing as a King would want!"

     "True enough, friend, true enough. But I have also seen the wonderful figures of deer and rabbit that you carve here in the winter evenings. They have such detail that one might almost think them real should they be of proper size and color."

     "But," interrupted the carpenter again, "they are only toys, not such things as a King would fancy!"

     "True enough, friend, true enough." The poor mouse squirmed against the string once more and took a deep breath. "But imagine that you had built a chair, large and of great quality. And imagine that you had carved into its feet the talons of the eagle. And into the legs you fashioned the muscle of the elk. Imagine if you had given it's arms the power and dignity that a lion's has and across its seat and back all manner of images so that a thousand stories could be read within them."

     The carpenter sat back, in his eyes he could see just such a chair and was momentarily taken by how beautiful it would be.

     "But," interrupted the carpenter once more, "such a throne would take months, maybe years to create. And the lumbar I would need to do it justice are dear and I am very poor."

     "Not to mention such a thing would be impossible to carry through the thick woods," added the mouse.

     "Yes," agreed the carpenter, disappointed.

     "Do not fret, friend, for you needn't suffer any of these challenges. If you will kindly remove the bindings here that I may breathe freely, I will tell you how you may still find your riches."

     So the poor carpenter released the mouse from the string and sat him back down, placing a hunk of stale bread before him. The mouse chewed at the bread briefly, smiled and returned to his plan.

     "The King has seven sons, the youngest just little more than six. Should you will carve a small throne for this prince and provide it as a gift to the King he will quickly know your talent and reward you with a commission. He will provide you a workshop in his castle filled with tools you have never seen before and feed you on savory meats and flavorful cheeses and wines as deep in color as they are sweet and pungent. And should your effort be successful you may even cast your eye about the court for a lady in waiting with whom you may fall in love, for though there are many pretty faces in the land, the fairest of all are in this court."

     The carpenter was beside himself with joy at the vision that the mouse painted and was soon cutting hunks of his winter cheese stocks to feed him and they talked long into the night and then again into the next.

     And through the dark days of winter the mouse entertained the carpenter with tales of the castle beyond the wood and the carpenter sold his mule to buy rare pieces of ebony wood with which to construct the child's chair. When the chair was complete he spent the early spring days carving into it's seat and back fantastic scenes of dragons and knights such that would enrapture the large eyes of a young boy. Of its arms and legs he carved bears and turtles and all manner of creatures one upon another. When it was done the skies had turned blue and the days warm and pleasant.

     "You have truly created a masterpiece," said the mouse who had gained much weight in the comfort of the carpenter's hospitality, "I hope you will still let me call on you when you are the appointed carpenter of the royal court." And this pleased the carpenter greatly and he thanked the mouse.

     The next morning the two parted at the door and the carpenter shouldered his things and headed out into the wood in the direction of the sun's morning rise. The mouse headed into the green fields to find a love of his own and soon the two saw each other never again.

     The road to the castle was long and the carpenter knew it would take many days to make his journey. That first night he took his rest in a leafy expanse within the dark wood. Quickly he fell asleep and as quickly thereafter awoke, his ears romanced by the singing of a nearby woman that was so beautifully he feared for a moment he was among the angels. He sat up and looked in all directions but saw only the trees flooded in the warm moonlight. A cloud wandered the sky and then covered the moon and the forest grew black again. And the singing stopped.

     The next day he traveled further and the next night he again fell fast asleep and just as soon he awoke. From somewhere came a voice delicate and playful as if laughing joyfully. The moon rose above the tree branches and the voice sang in tones that filled him with warmth. Who was this creature that so stole his heart? He gathered his belongings and set forward in the direction of the voice. But once again a cloud crept across the sky and covered the moon and again the forest fell silent.

     The following day he pushed on and the following night he decided to stand guard that he may see the woman that had haunted him the previous evenings. When the sun crept above the canopy of leaves and shone down, again the singing began. And he walked quickly towards it until he found himself at the bank of a dark brook. In the curving and bubbling water, painted on its surface in the reflection of the white moon, was a woman pale and milky with glowing eyes and generous pink lips. She smiled at him as she sang and he sank to his knees, overwhelmed by her beauty.

     "Who are you?" he asked, his skin prickling, his mouth dry.

     "I am the brook that feeds the stream and river who flow to the sea," she said and smiled at him causing his heart to float within him. "I bring cool water to the creatures of the forest and fish to the people of the towns and at night the stars tease me and the moon coerces me to sing. Who are you?"

     "I am a just a poor carpenter who journeys to see the King. For a mouse has told me that should I please the King's son, the Prince, with this small chair I have adorned with small creatures he shall reward me and I shall be rich and live fully." He held the chair for her to see and she splashed about her banks with admiration.

     "It is a most wonderful chair to be sure! That you have made this thing shows that you are a man of great talent and devotion. That you should willingly hand it away shows you to be trusting." And the she smiled upon him again and again his heart fluttered within him.

     "If it were possible I would make for you a great chair where you could sit and watch the forest and see the sea far beyond," said the poor carpenter, staring into her crystal eyes.

     "I should love to sit and watch the sun make her journey across the land and see the ocean far away, but I'm afraid it would not hold me for I am larger than time and I sit still not at all!" She laughed at him playfully. "Come, poor carpenter, and take a drink from me that I may soothe your dry lips." And the carpenter bent down and placed his rough face against her surface and kissed into her and her run against his lips.

     "I have no use for a chair," continued the stream, "but if you would give me one of your carved animals to bounce along my journey to the stream and the river and out to the sea it would provide me great amusement and joy."

     The carpenter quickly took a knife from his satchel and without hesitation cut from each of the four feet of the chair one of the animals he had carved. First he tossed a small tortoise them into the brook. Then he tossed to her a lion in full repose followed by a snake curled upon himself and lastly a sheep in wooly winter furs. He watched as the brook merrily bounced them in her waters and as they flowed away into the night toward the stream and the river and the sea ahead. And with each bounce of each small figure she rejoiced with giggles and laughter that made his mind light and lovestruck.

     "It is a shame that they have flowed away and head out to sea. But you have brought me great joy and I thank you kind carpenter."

     "It is my pleasure, fair maiden," admitted the carpenter, "for this chair has so many fine figures that to remove a few leaves it no worse. Let me take just four more that you may laugh again so gaily." And with that he cut another creature from each of the four feet and tossed them to her. She shrieked with great amusement and watched them bob and lull their way down her banks and over smooth stones on their way to the ocean. And he could not resist to hear her laugh once more and cut yet four more figures to give her, and four again.

     "Come, kind carpenter," cooed the stream, "come embrace me that I may wash these hands and arms that create such works, come that I may wet your crown and soothe your troubles." And the carpenter lowered himself into her dark waters and drank from her deeply until he could swallow no more but languished on her banks and stared up with her at the stars beyond the tall branches of the trees. And later he sent more carvings happily into her waters and later still more floated along her moving body.

     In the morning he woke on her cold banks and quickly turned to look in her beautiful eyes once more, but he did not find her there, only the sight of the brook moving on. As well, by his side, he found a chair, now pared down to a most simple and unadorned work, now just a most simple object for a most simple child. And he sat on the banks of the brook and felt the black mud between his fingers and thought of the maiden and of the mouse and of the mule he had sold and the chair he had destroyed. And he wondered to himself in which direction lay the King's court and in which lay his home. And he wondered in which lay his future.